Page 87 of Second Tide's the Charm
“Why are you so focused on the negative amidst all the positive?” The answer is obvious, and she waves a hand. “Never mind. We both know it’s because Hope means the world to you, and I get it. But she’d hate to be the reason you abandon all this. Giving up your life to be with her isn’t the solution.”
She’s right. Not to mention I can’t think of a single thing anyone in my family has given up on. Not piano lessons, not science fair projects that literally went up in smoke, and certainly not an educational platform.
Marissa turns toward me, expression serious now. “I’m not trying to negate that it could’ve been a sticky situation, but you act like we were out there on a pleasure cruise.”
“I don’t even want to parse that phrase.”
“Then don’t, because you know exactly what I mean. This is important work.”
But sometimes the line between our mission and myself gets blurred. And if Hope got caught in the crossfire because I felt the need to push boundaries... “Is this hubris?”
“Thinking you can control the world? Heck yeah it is.”
“I meant the channel. Using my viral moment to create this.”
She steps around a jellyfish stranded by the tide. “We didn’t start this channel for the likes or accolades. You took what could’ve been a party anecdote and turned it into an educational tool that reaches millions. I’ve known you since you were in diapers and even as a kid you let other people hog the limelight. You never once wanted to do any of the plays Iris and I put on.”
“That says more about the quality of your scriptwriting than anything,” I say with a reluctant grin.
She shakes her head. “Just saying. The fame is something you’ve had to adjust to, not what you crave.”
“But before he went over the edge—” the double meaning isn’t lost on me, and I shudder at the thought of what could’ve happened if Hope hadn’t been prepared “—Gabe said he had to feed the algorithm. Which is just shorthand for saying he wanted to create watch-worthy content. Half of the job is to stay relevant.”
“Bullshit,” Marissa says. “Our job is to spread knowledge and raise awareness. Gabe and I didn’t dive for views, and neither did Hope. We dived because we love this work and we know how important it is. And we’re not the only ones. I got a call from Roger Bauer.”
The non sequitur has me instantly alert, no coffee required. “Did he have second thoughts about working with us?”
“He certainly had thoughts.” Brows raised, she takes a sip of coffee, drawing out the suspense. “He was thrilled about the positive response to the first video and asked if we’re willing to film a whole series with them.”
An errant wave rushes in, dousing my feet up to my ankles, but I barely notice. “Seriously?” I rake a hand over my head. “That’s... Wow. Not what I was expecting.”
Marissa tilts her head. “Let me guess, you were expecting the worst.”
I bristle at her accusation, but before I can answer, the slap of flip-flops comes from behind us, and I look over my shoulder to see Gabe walking up, a donut in one hand and a tote in the other.
“What’s in the bag?” Marissa doesn’t bother waiting for an answer, just walks over and slides the strap off his shoulder to peer inside.
“Homemade donuts,” he says, mouth full. “A nice volunteer gave them to me. Said to pass them along to Adrian as thanks for covering her shift.” He takes another bite and lets his head fall back. “Delicious. Now I see why you guys give up your mornings for this.”
I cross my arms. “What are you even doing here?”
“Marissa told me she planned to try to talk some sense into you, and I figured it was time I spoke up too.” He wipes his sugary hand on his shirt with zero shame. “I think you’re making a mistake thinking Hope would be better off without you.”
“I shouldn’t care that my job makes my girlfriend’s life more complicated?”
“Did you hear that?” Speaking in an exaggerated whisper, Gabe nudges Marissa. “He said ‘girlfriend.’ That’s promising.”
She pops the lid on the storage container and asks me, “Who said relationships are easy? Hence my desire to stay single.”
“Not helpful.” Gabe rolls his eyes. “But yeah, relationships take work. Doesn’t mean they’re not worth it.”
I mull this over for a moment. “But love should be simple.”
“Love is simple. Relationships aren’t.”
“Hence why I needed space.”
“Maybe,” he says. “Or maybe you’re not used to being in a relationship and you defaulted to figuring things out on your own. But if you care about making things work, you have to talk to her. You’re in this together, or not at all.”
