Page 19 of The Significance of Moving On

Chapter Ten

“Well? What do ya think?” Kelsey stands with her back to me, twisting to the left and then to the right, admiring her perfect body, her perfect booty in the dressing room’s three-way mirror. She’s supposed to be trying on bathing suits, but the little red number she’s considering is more akin to strategically placed eye patches covering all her gloriously bronzed naughty bits, if only just.

“I think he’s gonna get you pregnant in that suit.”

“Perfect.” She winks at me. “I’m on the pill.” She spends another five minutes smoothing down the strings of the bikini over her thighs. “Go put back on that little black and pink one.” Kelsey orders like I’m her servant. “You looked super-hot in it.”

“Who’ll be looking?”

“Well I’ve been assured all D’s friends will be there, but I was thinking more about a certain blue-eyed hottie.”

“He’ll be there, but he won’t be looking.”

“Honey, are you delusional? That man looks at you like you’re the first juicy steak he’s seen after a month-long hunger strike.”

I laugh and shake my head, but do it leaving the stall to get the little black and pink number. Somehow, I’ve made it to the end of August with my sanity still intact. The bikini still hangs on the discard rack. I lift the hanger and realize the truth of it, we’re at the end of August,the end of August. That’s almost three months since Tom left me. I think about him every day and miss him like crazy, but if it hadn’t been for Casey… God, I’d still be a mess. On these thoughts I walk back into the tiny dressing room to retry on the two piece that will hopefully catch the attention of a certain blue-eyed hottie. At least the halter style top covers more than Kelsey’s eye patches.

I walk out and twist to see the full image in the mirror. Not half bad. A low whistle sounds from behind me. When I turn to glare at Kelsey, it’s not Kelsey at all. This random guy who must be waiting for someone in the fitting room, looks me up and down, “What? When you see a piece of art, you admire it.” Then he leaves with a handful of dressing room castoffs that he’d been holding onto.

Kelsey snickers off in the corner.

“And I’m the one getting pregnant? If he doesn’t have you de-suited by the end of the evening, the dude’s a eunuch.”

We both burst into a fit of giggles, falling into each other. I feel happy.

•••

Kelsey and I set up our beach chairs and matching black and white umbrellas, mine already open, she jams hers on the diagonal into the sand. She’s already showing the world her goods to her benefit, as Demetrius has been more than appreciative thus far. I pull the little sundress cover-up down letting it fall to the sand around my feet.

“Damn, Casey. Check out the look you’ve been hiding from us,” someone shouts from over my shoulder. Immediately my face flushes, and I’m not even sure why. I’ve been admired before. I used to like it, I mean, I still do but calling Casey’s attention to me—in public—just kind of makes my belly flip-flop.

And then I feel him at my side. His breath lightly brushing the fallen tendrils of hair loosened from my ponytail against my skin. He’s not wearing a shirt, he shouldn’t be, it’s the beach and all, but the heat of anger radiates off him like a mini sun.

Anger? Why is he angry with me?

“Is that all you’re wearing?” He asks.

“I’m more covered than Kelsey.”

“Yeah, but she’s showing off for D. Are you showing off for—uh—forget it, you look nice.” The anger fades before my eyes into confusion, maybe?

Part of me does a happy dance but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m the lost puppy who got the ‘good doggy’ from her master or if it’s because of the way he got all flustered and stumbled over his thoughts.

More and more people show up, and I’m lost to a list of names wider than the lake we’re swimming at. How could Demetrius know all these people? Kelsey’s playing her part to a T as the doted-on girlfriend, all giggly and swoony when called into action.

We, me and Kelsey, settle in the sand to watch the manliest display of sinewy meatheads go all gladiator on a volleyball. Sweat flies at my face and I turn to avoid splatter in my eyes or mouth. That’s when I see him, Casey sitting in a chair staring off at the water. I want to know what he’s thinking, why he’s off by himself. I always heard no man is an island. He sure looks like one set off from the rest of the party.

He knows almost everything about me. My life, Tom, but I’ve barely scratched red streaks into the skin that is Casey Davenport. And I know, with everything in me, that he saved me—my heart was dying and he saved it.

Casey doesn’t even flinch when I lay my hands on his shoulders. “Ruins the fun if you don’t jump.”

“Don’t think I know your scent by now?” He asks.

“Should I be upset by that comment?”

“Ha. No.” He pauses for a long breath, “It’s beautiful, you know?”

“It’s my new lotion.”

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