Page 83 of Reel Love

I draw her into my arms and hold her to me. She leans into me, and we’re comfortably quiet in one another’s arms. Just Alana, me, and the ebb and flow of the water beneath us.

“Did you still want to see my house?” I murmur the question into her hair.

“I definitely want to see your house.”

“It’s … okay. I want you to see it too. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

We retrieve our shoes from the sand, and Alana extends her hand to me. We’re quiet for most of the walk, stealing glances at one another and smiling softly when we do.

Is this what contentment feels like? Adrenaline burned off into a sedate, floaty sensation where there’s nowhere to be, nothing to do, and a pervasive sense that all’s right in the world? Or is this just her?

It’s her. All her.

We step off the sand and I lead Alana to a bench.

“I can take sandals off,” I tell her. “But you’re on your own when it comes to putting those back on.”

“I think I can manage. Though, I may want a repeat of the sandal removal again in the future.”

“You know where to find me.”

“I will in a few minutes. Once you show me where you live.”

“So, you’re saying you might just show up randomly at my door, asking me to take your sandals off for you?”

“Would that be a problem?”

“Not from where I’m standing. I don’t see a thing wrong with that at all.”

“Good to know.” She smiles and stands, her heels securely strapped to her feet.

We walk to my house, hand in hand.

We’re turning up my street when Alana asks, “Did you grow up on this side of the island?”

“I did not.”

“Where did you grow up then?”

“On the North Shore. Not far from your place, actually. But down in the neighborhoods at the bottom of the hills. If you know where Marbella Elementary is, we were a block downhill from there. Still are, actually. My parents have lived in that house since my mom was pregnant with me.”

“You’ve always lived on the island. Wow.”

“You haven’t?”

“No. We vacationed here. But I grew up in LA. My parents sold our vacation house when I was twelve. We didn’t have the luxury of spending time here when they were so focused on cultivating my career.”

“At age twelve?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a sadness to her voice, even though she’s masking it.

“Well, I feel like a total slacker. I only started pursuing my career in earnest in my twenties.”

She laughs, light and sweet. And I feel like I won the Nobel Prize.

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