Page 79 of Second Tide's the Charm
She cackles, the fiend. “That was me checking in on you. What else are friends for?”
“Um, to be supportive?”
“I am, now that I know you’re making a good decision.” Zuri is the best kind of friend, honest enough to trust when she tells me what I want to hear.
I blow out a breath, relaxing as iridescent waves curl against my bare toes. “So you think this is good? It’s honestly impossible to be objective in this situation.”
“What you had with Adrian was special. I know you two were going through some tough times, but if you hadn’t stayed here...” Her voice slips, like she lost her footing on a patch of ice. But she recovers quickly, in the agile way she has, and my heart breaks that she’s had to develop that ability. “Let’s just say if I thought he was no good, I never would’ve encouraged you to take the job.”
“By encouraged, you mean fired me so my hands were tied?”
She murmurs noncommittally before clearing her throat. “I know I haven’t been in a relationship since...since losing Eric, so maybe I’m not the most qualified...” She trails off again, and I want to jump in and reassure her, but I can tell it’s important for her to say this. “But he and I did make it through a lot together. And one thing I learned is you can’t move forward if you don’t accept and acknowledge the past. And it sounds like you’ve both done that.”
We have, but things are shaky and new and not ready for any test. But we have another month of summer. Another month of days spent working together and nights we can spend remembering what we love most about each other. Shoring up the pieces of our relationship with newly-discovered connections. “It’s freaking terrifying, Zuri. But I want this. I want to try.”
“Trying is good,” she says. “In fact, I think it’s incredible. You’re brave to give each other a second chance.” Her voice cracks, and I know she’s thinking of Eric, of true love. Real love, the kind I never thought existed until I met Adrian.
The beachgoers around me come to a halt, many of them with phones aloft, and I turn back toward the horizon just in time. The sun dislodges itself from the cocoon of the ocean, begins its bright ascent into the sky.
I inhale, filling my lungs with salt-scented air.
“I always thought that to succeed in my career, I couldn’t be in a relationship. And I never had to confront that fear until we were about to move in together. But I’ve come to realize I made a lot of false assumptions. Now I want to have both.”
“You deserve both,” Zuri says. “And from the looks of your recent videos, you’re crushing your career goals.”
My cheeks flame all over again. “Not you too.”
“Oh yes, me too. Me and the kids love watching them. They make me check for new content every morning.”
The reminder that people back home are watching pierces through the fog of my happiness. I don’t know how Adrian handles the exposure, but I’m glad that so far, I haven’t embarrassed myself. “I’ll make sure to tell Gabe he’d better pick up the pace on editing so the kids don’t have to wait so long for new content.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Well, yeah—”
“Sorry, not you.” She lets out an irritated huff. “My cashier for the day just texted that she’s sick, but I’m supposed to lead the morning kayak tour. I’m going to have to let you go so I can work on finding someone to cover her shift.”
“Maybe I should rethink the move,” I say, teasing, though I do often wish I could be in two places at once.
“Don’t even joke, Evans. You’re right where you need to be. And besides, Seth called dibs on your room.”
We end the call with promises to talk soon, but her words stay with me as I pocket my phone and sidestep a terrier who’s pulling on its leash in an attempt to get at the sandpipers darting along the waterline. Chats with Zuri always leave me both comforted and challenged. She’s like a motivational speaker and fairy godmother rolled into one and I am one hundred percent lucky to have her.
The sky is a lush blend of pink and orange and peach, like sherbet ready to be scooped and I can’t resist snapping a photo, even though my phone does the colors no justice. I text it to Zuri, a small offering of my day, a visual “wish you were here,” no words required.
Once it’s sent, I realize this is the kind of thing I used to do with Adrian all the time but stopped once I moved to Michigan. At first it was grief, but then it was resentment. It felt disingenuous, and I didn’t want to try to push past that feeling or talk through it with him. But now I do. I want to let him know I’m thinking of him, carrying him with me, wherever I go.
Raising the phone again, in selfie mode this time, I pivot until the sun is visible over my shoulder. I shrug a few times, arm flapping in a motion reminiscent of an irate pelican, until the neck of the hoodie falls off my shoulder to reveal the strappy ties of my swimsuit. It feels weird to pose for a solo selfie in public, but that’s a me thing. Beach selfies are so ubiquitous, no one spares me a glance.
I turn on the camera and wave, trying to pretend the hair in my face is alluring, not a windblown mess that has me wishing I’d grabbed a hair tie. I consider blowing a kiss, but that’s something I’ve never done in my life and Adrian would probably think I’d been abducted. I end the recording and send the clip to Adrian before embarrassment stops me.
I’m here, thinking of him. And I want him to know that. A moment later, my phone vibrates. Heart pounding irrationally, I read the text.
Adrian: Best. Sunrise Ever.
Affection fills me, steaming chamomile tea poured to the brim. So simple. So easy. And yet I’d stopped trying. I thought it was easier to close myself off, but it didn’t stop me from being hurt or from losing him.
He means so much to me, and I want him to know that, beyond a shadow of a doubt. I want to try again. I want us to succeed. I want that life-changing, heart-on-the-line love we once had. It will be a long journey to get there, but this is a start.
