Page 57 of All the Ways You Save Me
“Oh my goodness, how long has it been?” she asks, taking me by the shoulders to look me over.
“About ten years.” During that first fall in Maple Ridge, Adam had encouraged me to reach out to her, and we’d exchanged emails and book recommendations. But once he died, I lost touch with just about everyone.
I introduce her to Garrett, and they shake hands before she turns back to me. “What are you doing in town?”
“I’m here for the summer. I’m actually an English teacher now, so I get my summers off.”
She beams at me. “Of course you are. That’s wonderful. Your students are so lucky.”
“I hope I’m half as good of a teacher as you,” I say. “Are you still at Sandy Harbor High?”
“Retired this past year,” she says. “I miss it, but it gives me more time with my grandkids. And I still read a lot of course—thanks to my book club.” She presses a hand to my wrist. “Ifyou’re here all summer, you should join us. We meet every other Tuesday.”
We exchange numbers, and she heads out with her bag of baked goods. Garrett and I place our orders and carry our sandwiches outside. The picnic tables in front of the bakery are full, but Garrett knows a good spot to eat, so we get back in the Jeep. Five minutes later, he steers the car down a road that dead-ends at a short wall of rocks with a view of the ocean beyond. He backs into a spot and hops out, rounding the car to open the trunk.
A flash of my first date with Adam comes back to me, the two of us sitting in the trunk of his Bronco, with him telling me about his parents dying, and me talking about leaving Sandy Harbor. But Garrett grabs two beach chairs and closes the tailgate, and the old memories drift away.
We slip off our shoes and set up the chairs in the sand. The breeze blows in from the ocean, and Garrett tugs off his hoodie and slides it around my shoulders. I breathe in the now-familiar scent of sawdust and sea air, gazing out at the water where a group of surfers paddle out to a break at the end of the island. “Tell me what you love about surfing.”
Garrett watches a surfer hop to his feet and ride into shore. “The waves are wild and unpredictable, but there’s a satisfaction in conquering them. You never know what they’ll throw at you, but surfing gives you the confidence that you can handle it.”
I’ve spent the last decade allowing myself to be pushed along by the current and tossed onto the shore. I want to take charge of my life. To feel the sun on my face and the sand beneath my feet. To join Mrs. Friedman’s book club and become friends with Chloe and the other locals. To stop swimming in circles in my little apartment pool and conquer the ocean.
“Will you teach me how to surf?” I expect to feel a wave ofnerves as the words come out of my mouth. The last time I braved the water, I found myself floundering and nearly going under. But that already feels like a lifetime ago. I was a strong swimmer once, and I’m finally rediscovering that girl who used to dive in headfirst.
“You never learned when you lived here?” Garrett asks.
“No, I always planned to but… when you’re young, you feel like you have all the time in the world. I didn’t realize I wouldn’t be back at the beach for ten years.”
“How about tomorrow?”
“I’m free tomorrow. I can’t wait.”
His mouth curves into a wide grin, one that’s become more and more familiar to me, but not because I see it as Adam’s anymore.
It hits me that when I study Garrett’s features, it’s not to find similarities to Adam’s anymore, but because I want to memorize every line and shadow on the face of the man I’m increasingly drawn to. When he makes me laugh, I’m not always comparing it to the way Adam made me laugh. I came to Sandy Harbor believing Garrett was secretly my childhood love, but every day that I spend here, my thoughts of Adam start to fade like a photo left in the sun, and the man next door comes into focus. The time I spend with Garrett isn’t tinged with suspicion but anticipation and hope.
Am I finally ready to let Adam go and to take a chance that Garrett is exactly who he says he is? I came here to find the truth, not to find love. But is it possible I may just find both?
THIRTY-TWO
PRESENT DAY
Garrett
I don’t know what I was thinking, suggesting Madeline and I do an activity that requires me spending the afternoon trying not to stare at her bare midriff in a bikini. The hot sun isn’t helping matters, and I use the back of my hand to wipe sweat from my brow. She stretches out on the surfboard that I’ve laid across the sand, swinging her arms as I’ve demonstrated, breasts straining against the thin green nylon of her top. I never knew it was possible to be jealous of a six-foot piece of fiberglass before now.
“Does this look right?”
“Perfect,” I manage, tearing my eyes away from her cleavage.
“And now to stand up, right?” Oblivious to my plight, Madeline grabs the sides of the board and pushes herself upward in a makeshift cobra position before hopping to her feet. I shift my weight in the sand, hoping she’s too distracted practicing her form to notice the growing bulge in my swim shorts.
I get up slowly, forcing my gaze to the middle-aged man with the hairy back and round belly next to the lifeguard stand.Anything to distract me from the woman in front of me. For ten years, I imagined how Madeline might have changed in the time that we were apart. What would her transformation from skinny teenager to a twenty-something woman look like? I wasn’t prepared for the reality of her rounded hips, pale skin, or that green bikini.
“Okay,” I say in a strangled voice. “I think it’s time to try it on the water.” I pick up the surfboard. At least the waves will hide my erection. But out there, Madeline is going to be wet, and slippery, and possibly clinging to me. Why didn’t I just give her the name of a reputable surf school?
We wade out into the water, and she gasps as a cold wave hits us head on. Her nipples tighten and my gaze shifts to the droplets shimmering in the sun on the stretch of perfect, pale, freckled skin disappearing into her bikini bottom. I briefly close my eyes, overcome by the memory of my tongue swirling around her belly button, teeth scraping against her hip bone, my lips leaving a trail of hot kisses even lower.
