Page 56 of Between Two Shores

Lachlan.

Beth laid the phone back on the table and stared until the screen dimmed. She touched her cheeks. San Diego. Where was that? How far from L.A.? He’d just emailed, so maybe he could talk on messenger tonight. She could tell him—oh, how embarrassing. Shameful. Dumped in the U.S.A. Sounded like a song title. Dumped in the U.S.A. yeah, dumped in the U.S.A., yeah.

She clicked on Facebook and accepted Lachlan’s friend request. She hadn’t posted anything for months, but she wanted his friendship—even though he’d shunned her for almost a year. Opening the messenger app, she typed in his name and sent a message.

Hi Lachlan,

Thanks for your email. I’m available to talk now, can I call you on messenger?

The three dots waved as he typed. A smile appeared on her lips. He was in America. She had a friend in America.

Lachlan replied that she could call. One tap later, she held her breath and waited for his voice.

“G’day, mate,” He said in a poor attempt at an Aussie accent.

“Oh, Lachlan. It’s so good to hear from you.”

He laughed. “Really? That’s nice to know. Wow, I can’t believe I’m talking to you after two years. Your photo appeared on my memories’ notification the other day. The one with the Quokka.”

She laughed. “Oh, I love that photo.”

“Yeah. That was a great day.”

She wriggled in her seat. “How’s Wally? How did he weather the rest of his training?”

“Ugh, he didn’t last much longer.”

“Right.” She swallowed. Her stomach dived, taking the plunge to ask him more. “So, you live in San Diego. How far is that from L.A.?”

“Two hours. Why’s that? You know someone in Los Angeles?”

“Yes.” She bit her lip. “Me.”

“What? You’re in L.A.? Are you joshing me? Serious?”

A bubble of excitement rose in her belly. He sounded happy about it.

“So, I don’t have to fly to the other side of the world to see you?”

She giggled. “Were you going to fly to Australia, just to see me?” Her tone turned sassy.

“It’d be worth it. What are you doing in L.A.? Did you hit it bigtime in journalism?”

Beth didn’t know if she should laugh or cry at his comment. Now she had to tell him why she sat in an L.A. apartment, alone. Oh, it was so nice to forget, for just one minute.

“Beth, you there?”

“I have a sorry tale to tell.” Where to start? “I’m embarrassed by how foolish . . . I . . .” Too late to chicken out, she’d contacted Lachlan—told him she was in America. He was a counselor—a safe person. Beth bit her fingernail. How would he feel about her falling for another sailor? Would he understand?

“I’m listening. No judgment here.” His voice had not a trace of worry. Yet.

“True? I needed to hear that.” She released a breath. “Thank you, Lachlan.”

“So, how did you end up in the States?” he said in an encouraging tone.

She started from the beginning, only two months ago. Lachlan listened, asking an occasional question. “Nick said he had an urgency to get to Jerusalem, and when I returned from the corner store, he was gone. Took his things. And I’m left here in an apartment with no key.”

“He abandoned you? After you spent all that money, gave up your life in Australia, after a few days, just left you?” He whispered, “Beth, you poor thing.”

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