Page 15 of Halstead House

I abruptly opened my eyes and blushed. “Sorry.”

“For what? Sun worship is an important part of island life,” she replied easily.

We made our way to a large umbrella and two chairs. The cheery yellow and blue striped umbrella danced in the ocean breeze. The chairs were larger than normal beach chairs, which promised comfort.

“Are we okay to use these?” I asked when Ana set down her things.

“Yep. The same people who groom the beach set these up.” Ana wiggled her hips as she worked her shorts down her legs. “It’s kind of nice to be rich. Or, at least to live with the rich.” She grinned.

“It would seem so.” I smiled back.

Ana set her shorts and tank on one of the chairs and looked out at the water. “You ready?”

“To swim?”

“Yes.”

“It’s only nine o’clock,” I stated.

“What would be an appropriate time to swim?” Ana tilted her head in a way that I was beginning to be familiar with.

“I don’t mean that there’s an appropriate time, but won’t the water still be cold?”

She shook her head. “Nah. Gulf water is pretty warm, even this time of year.”

I was intrigued and ridiculously happy over the news that I wasn’t about to do a polar bear plunge. My stomach growled lightly, reminding both of us that I hadn’t eaten yet. I blushed when Ana laughed, having heard the sound.

“Go ahead and eat something. I’ll meet you out there when you’re ready. Oh, and with skin as pale as yours, you’d better spray on some of my sunscreen.”

“Sorry.”

“For what?” Ana asked.

“Making you wait. Letting you hear my stomach growl,” I replied quietly.

“Are you going to do that all the time?”

“What?”

“Apologize? By my count you’ve apologized to me three times already this morning.”

“Oh. Well...”

“Well, what? Stop saying you’re sorry all the time. You haven’t done anything to hurt me. You step on my toe, or use all the hot water, or eat the last piece of cake, then you say sorry. Otherwise, you don’t owe me any apologies.” Ana walked the last couple of feet to where the water licked the sand and poked her toe in.

I was speechless. Ana was unlike anyone I knew in my real life. I always apologized when I felt I’d done something to inconvenience someone. It was polite. Wasn’t it? I mentally ran through the times I’d apologized to Ana that morning and could see nothing wrong with what I’d done. Yet, Ana’s statement gave me something to think about as I ate the still-warm breakfast sandwich and piece of fruit she had brought for me.

I ate quickly, tore off my cover-up, coated myself in sunblock, and walked toward the water, trying not to care about the time I’d spent on my hair and makeup that morning that was now wasted. Spontaneous women didn’t worry about that sort of thing, I assumed. The moment my foot touched the waves I couldn’t help but gasp. It was warm. Ana had been telling the truth. It was like entering a lukewarm bath. I released a breath I’d been holding and walked to where Ana was floating on her back in the waist-deep water, eyes closed, bobbing along on the soft waves.

One eye popped open. “Hey.”

“You were right.” I ran a hand through the water.

“My three favorite words.” She chuckled. “You should join me.”

I lay back in the water and let my arms reach out to the side. I couldn’t believe how buoyant I felt. I’d never been able to float so effortlessly on my back. The waves were relaxing, the sun warm on my face and the fronts of my legs. The last time I’d been in the ocean had been off the coast of Massachusetts on a week away with my mother. The waves had been chilly, knocking roughly against my knees and sending me back to my towel on the sand. Mother had sighed and given me her ‘I tried to warn you’ look. Here the waves were shallow, calm, drawing me in to their embrace.

I opened my eyes and watched the brown pelicans fly around us, occasionally diving into the water for their own breakfast. A little farther out, fish were jumping.

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