Page 67 of The Deadbeat Next Door

“My mother believed a love of reading was key to being successful in all aspects of life. She either read to us or insisted we read all the classics,” he said. “Jane Eyre wouldn’t even make my top ten list. I figured you would have chosen Pride and Prejudice or Mrs. Dalloway or The Bluest Eye.”

“I love all those books.” My heart warmed at his knowledge of and obvious love of books. I repeated my mantra, I do not care for Cody Reynolds, but it didn’t do much to chill the warmth. “But Jane Eyre is special to me. I’ve read it once every year since I was ten and every time I read it I love it a little more.”

“Tell me. Tell me why it means so much to you.”

So I did my best to explain it to him. Jane Eyre was a woman in a prison formed by expectations, by poverty, by society’s rules and laws, even physically caged by her aunt, and yet she found a way to overcome every obstacle, to find love, to transcend her lot in life. Her life was hard and yet she found beauty and friendships and loves that made her story beloved by generations. “How about you?” I asked, when I’d finished my explanation. “What’s your favorite book?”

He thought it over for a minute. “Actually, I also like books that question the status quo. I love fiction, read it all the time, but my favorite books are probably nonfiction, memoir type books about nature, like Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. If I had to pick a favorite, it would be Edward Abbey’s Desert Solitaire. Which is ironic, considering that I want to farm the land, to be one of those forces disturbing the natural order.”

“I haven’t read that one. Haven’t read Pilgrim at Tinker’s Creek either. I should add them to my list.”

He explained what he loved about the books, how the authors could perform a sort of magic with their words, to uncover unseen layers in nature, to somehow make it more. He talked about the peace he found in nature, the unmatchable beauty, and how those authors somehow made it more beautiful, made his enjoyment nature more. He also talked about the importance of protecting nature and how he hoped to build his winery in an environmentally sustainable way. He’d tried to convince his family to build their hotels in the same way, but his father had resisted and it wasn’t until Noah took over that changes started to be made.

“I’ve never been a huge fan of hiking,” I said. “But I think if I went with you, I might change my mind.”

He smiled, but he didn’t tell me what he thought of that idea, instead he asked where I wanted to go for dinner. We argued about what to eat for a good half hour. After we’d settled on a compromise and were back in the truck with full bellies, he pulled out an mp3 player and fired up an audio book. “What is this?” I asked.

“The Sound and the Fury. Unless you’d prefer something else? I’ve got The Goldfinch on here, too.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had this before I started reading?”

He didn’t look the least bit repentant. “Your voice is my favorite.”

His words made my heart squeeze and I couldn’t be annoyed with him. “The Sound and the Fury is good.”

We listened, getting lost in Faulkner’s words and the lovely voice of the reader, until we got to Myrtle Beach.

***

We arrived at Noah’s condo after nine thirty, and I was tired. I’d had a long week at work and I’d been in overdrive worrying about people I couldn’t control or influence. Harrison seemed to be in a good place, finally, but Kayla had missed two more days of school that week and, when she’d been in class, she’d had dark bags under her eyes and had looked pale. I’d asked her if she was okay, but she’d said she was fine and did her best to avoid me. Since I couldn’t legally kidnap her and hold her until she told me the truth, I was out of options. On top of that, Missy Melcher had ‘dropped in’ to see me or observe my class every single day and every single day she reminded me I was on probation, criticized my appearance or my teaching skills, and suggested there was no way I’d really landed a fiancé as hot as Cody.

I rubbed my eyes and looked up at the three-story building Cody had parked in front of. “How far is the ocean?”

“It’s just on the other side of this building,” he said. “Nothing but the best for Noah. We’re in North Myrtle Beach, about fifteen minutes from Myrtle, where the boardwalk and most of the excitement happens. This is more of a family beach, but we can go to the boardwalk tomorrow.”

“I just want to see the ocean. I want to build a sandcastle and lay in the sun and dive through a wave.”

He grinned. “The water’s a bit chilly this time of year, but all of that can definitely be arranged.”

The smell of salt and warm wood filled me as soon as I stepped out of the car into the cool night air. He grabbed our bags and led us up to the third floor and a condo at the beach-side of the building. The interior was cute and tropical, with a living room, full kitchen, small dining area, and two bedrooms. I bypassed it all and went straight to the balcony to see the ocean. It was much louder than I’d imagined. The white caps glowed bright white in the light of the full moon and the dark water rolled and glistened. The night was warmer on the street-side of the building, but the breeze was chilly off the ocean and I shivered. I should go in and grab a sweatshirt, but I didn’t want to turn away from the view.

The door behind me slid open and Cody stepped out. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder. For several long moments, he didn’t say a word, didn’t mar the beauty of the moment with small talk or unwieldy words. He just held me and watched the ocean with me. I was mesmerized by its ebb and flow, by the pure force and enormity of it.

“Want to go for a walk on the beach,” he asked in a soft voice.

“Uh-huh.”

We went back inside and I pulled a sweatshirt on over my short-sleeved shirt. Cody claimed not to be cold and wore only his jeans and a t-shirt that stretched tight over his upper body. Under any other circumstances, I might have been distracted by him and the empty condo and the responsibility-free weekend stretching out before us, but the ocean held a bigger draw.

He held my hand as we walked out of the condo and down the short path to the sand. I didn’t remind myself that I didn’t care for him or worry about the danger of getting too close to him. Instead, I found myself falling into a happy daze and pretending we were a couple, that he belonged to me for real, that we had a whole future of days like this one stretching out before us. I kicked off my flip-flops and sank my toes into the sand. It felt a bit like a foot massage and Cody waited while I dug my toes in, closed my eyes, and just reveled in the feel of it against my skin, the sound of the ocean, louder now and all encompassing.

I opened my eyes and we walked down to the water’s edge. I let my feet sink into the wet sand and felt the chilly water lapping at my ankles. When I’d had my fill of that, we walked along the beach, chasing fiddler crabs, white ghosts against the glow from Cody’s cell phone. When I’d had enough of that, we walked back to the beach in front of our condo and lay on the sand, my head on Cody’s firm belly, and looked at the stars, so bright and clear and infinite.

I was in paradise and I savored every moment, clung to it, because I knew it couldn’t last, no matter how badly I might want it to.

***

My phone rang, waking me from a deep sleep, and a sense of dread washed over me. I scrambled out of bed, kicking Cody in the shin accidentally. He sat straight up in bed. “What?”

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