Page 37 of Between Two Shores

An elderly couple at the next picnic table glanced their way.

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Not the man-eating kind.”

“Oh.” She placed a hand to her chin. “And it’s safe to swim near them?”

“They’re big, so not too close. I’ll send you the links to the website and videos. You can let me know tonight if you’re up to it.”

Her shoulders lowered, and she sank against the wooden bench. “All right.”

He reached across the table and collected her hands. “You said earlier you wanted to talk about something. Is here okay, or do you want to go for a walk?”

Her gaze flickered around the table, everywhere but on him. Not a good sign. Knots formed in his stomach.

She took her hands back and started to clean up the table. “A walk sounds good.” She rolled up the butcher paper around the leftover scraps. Then Beth inched sideways out of the bench seat and stood.

Two American sailors exited the shop with their packages of hot chips. Nick nodded in their direction. “This table is free now.”

Beth moved on and headed to the sidewalk.

“How’d you manage to have that chick follow you up here?” The fool elbowed his friend. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“We’re engaged.” He turned and didn’t wait for a response, but the sniggers of amusement drifted behind him.

Beth’s face had a hue of pink. She must’ve heard the comments. He slipped his hand into hers. “Don’t listen to them, hon.” He pointed to the distance. “I believe there’s a bush trail up ahead. The weather’s cooled enough to enjoy it.” Unless the conversation ended up too heated. What did she want to discuss?

The sky streaked in colors of russet, pale amber, and strawberry—unusual, but stunning. “Have you spent much time in Exmouth before?”

“Not really. Passed through when we were kids. We had a bus, and in the cooler seasons often camped on the way to Broome. Cooked damper in the coals, delivered donations to the Aboriginal communities, and had a holiday at the same time.”

“Wow. I would’ve loved that upbringing. Big family. Other-people focused.”

“So, tell me more about your mother. Does she live in Los Angeles too?”

Just the mention of his mom caused a sick taste in his mouth. “No. She lives in Oceanside, about an hour from where I stay. Mom managed to get into a flashy senior apartment after dad passed. She’s happy with the facilities and community there.”

“Do you call her much?”

He scratched at the back of his head. “Um. Occasionally.” Mother’s Day. Christmas.

“I guess it’s not as easy on the ship?”

“Mmm.” He didn’t find it easy at any time.

Beth angled her head and studied him. “Would you say you have a good relationship with her?”

Here it goes. Background check. So, this was what Beth wanted to talk about. Was she having doubts about him?

“We had a close mother-son relationship during my childhood. But as my philosophy on life became different to her reserved points of view, a distance formed between us.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Her eyes seemed genuine.

“Yeah. So am I.” He swallowed hard. “As an adult, she’s opposed a lot of my decisions to travel or take financial risks. I can’t talk about any of my insight on anything that could be seen as controversial. She doesn’t get it.” Muscle tension formed in his left shoulder. “Mom’s not supportive in any way, so I don’t tell her much about what I’m doing. I ask her about her life, but don’t go into details of mine. Easier that way.”

He glanced at Beth’s frown. She seemed to have a close family connection, so this would be foreign to her way of life.

He scuffed his shoe against the red dirt bush trail. “Sometimes I just see her as my biological mother, not a real mom.”

Beth’s forehead lines deepened.

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