Page 59 of Second Tide's the Charm
Dabbing her mouth with her sleeve, she says, “That was a mess.”
“Which part? Me telling the public about an imaginary program or Adrian and I fighting at work?” I tip up my glass and let the ice fall into my mouth, nervous energy needing an outlet.
She leans her hip against the counter. “Please. That was not a fight.” Good to know it didn’t look as terrible as it felt to hear him basically accuse me of breaking us up. “I think the worst part was us leaving you out to dry like that. I should’ve known it would be tough for you after what happened.”
I shift the ice to my cheek and suck in a chilled breath. “I thought I could handle it. And it was fine, but then, all of a sudden, my mind went blank, and I was talking on autopilot.” I drop my head to the cool granite countertop. “How many people were watching?”
She pats my back. “You don’t want to know.” I hear the ice rattle in her cup as she takes another drink. “Fortunately, I think it’s an awesome idea, so there’s that.”
I twist my head sideways to peek up at her. “Of course it is. But Adrian’s not sure it’s feasible.”
She rolls her eyes, tugging off her stretchy headband with an audible sigh of relief. She recently took down her braids, and is wearing her hair loose today, the thick coils held away from her face with the headbands she often wears on days at sea.
“He’s the worrier in the family. And I get it. My parents moved once when I was like seven—” she squints in thought, spinning the headband on her finger “—maybe eight. Anyway, I was so thrown I wouldn’t even go to school for two weeks that fall. I can’t imagine doing it as often as Adrian did. My aunt and uncle are great parents, and they did their best balancing career and family, but I think Adrian coped with all that change by thinking three steps ahead.”
“Not always a bad thing,” I feel compelled to say.
“Who said it was?” She frowns at me, the expression so like Adrian that I grin. “But I have experience with outreach programs—”
“He said that too.” Right before he told me it might not be a good plan. “He also said you have another full-time job, and he’ll be busy with lab work and a full course load in the fall.”
“I think I know how to manage my own time,” she says. “It might not work out, sure. But worst-case scenario, you disappointed a few people. It happens.”
I roll my face back into my crossed arms, wanting to block out the memory of my failure. Failures, plural.
“Hey,it happens,” she says. “You did your best out there, and I bet you inspired at least one person to go look up goblin sharks. They’ll wish they hadn’t, but...”
I straighten up, chuckling. “I think they’re kind of cute.”
“They’re a lot of things, but cute isn’t one of them. Cool enough to get someone interested in shark science, though. That’s for sure.”
I smile, grateful for her support. “But Adrian started the channel to be an inspiration, and getting people excited about an opportunity and then not delivering is the opposite of that.”
“You think social media is the only way he gets involved?”
“I mean, I know he’s devoted to teaching.” Even back in undergrad, he helped out as a TA.
Marissa sets down her glass. “Should’ve known he’d be too shy to tell you.”
Shy? A man with over a million followers? A man who kisses me with a boldness that makes me blush just thinking of it?
She marches to the coatrack and grabs her purse. “Come with me. You need to see something.” With a twinkle in her brown eyes, she opens the door with a dramatic flourish. “I’ll drive.”
I am never living that down.
In a flashback to middle school weekends, I find myself left standing on the curb of a public library with Marissa’s instructions to head to the children’s section. The rain let up and now the warm air hangs heavy on my skin, like a blanket left out on the line, thick with moisture.
Palmettos line the sidewalk, and though I’ve lived in the southeastern United States for most of my adult life, I’ll never get over the difference in the flora here. Even the evergreens flanking the building are different from up north—towering longleaf pines, instead of the sturdy white pines back home—though stepping into the library wraps me in a familiar feeling of belonging.
The sliding doors whoosh shut behind me and mute the birdsong, air-conditioning embracing me like I’ve entered a hermetically sealed chamber, cool and quiet. A librarian seated at the front desk turns from her computer with a smile.
“May I help you with something?”
I hesitate, glancing around the open space. “My...” I stutter to a halt. Co-worker? Ex-boyfriend? Recent make-out buddy? Yeah, won’t be going with either of the latter options. “A colleague of mine—” our agreed-upon status resounds with a discordant twang against my heartstrings “—is doing story time here. I don’t want to interrupt...”
“A friend of Adrian’s?” She breaks into a big smile. “Wait a minute. You’re the new scientist withShark Science Crew. Hope, right?”
I appraise her with fresh eyes. Around sixty, I’d say, with the bearing of someone I’d expect to lecture youngsters on how screen time rots their brains. Obviously, I need to check my judgments. “You watch their channel?”
