Page 46 of Sea La Vie
“I’ve never had wine before,” she admits.
“Would you rather have water?” I ask, not bothering to tell her I haven’t had it, either. When I was searching for the picnic basket, I came across this bottle and snagged it, thinking a glass of wine at the top of a lighthouse at sunset was the epitome of romance.
“No,” she says, boldly. “I’m fine with wine.”
I grin and pour her a glass then offer it to her. She takes a tentative sip, then smiles. “It’s good. Thank you, Beau, for all of this. I have a feeling this is going to be a good summer.”
“Me too,” I say, pouring myself a glass. A seagull flies nearby, crying into the sunset.
“I’ve never done anything like this,” she says. “I feel so…reckless.” She covers her mouth with a hand and lets out a mischievous giggle.
“What’s life like in Charleston?” I ask her.
She takes another sip of wine. “Stuffy.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Stuffy?”
“We’re always at an event or some kind of party, and I always have to be on my best behavior. I can’t remember the last time I had true fun. Until now.” She grins at me and I reach a finger out to wipe off the lingering mayo, emboldened by her statement. Her cheeks flush in response.
“Life is the furthest thing from stuffy here,” I say. “But I wouldn’t mind getting out, exploring a little.”
“Have you always wanted to be a fisherman?” she asks.
I finish the last bite of my sandwich and ball up the paper it was wrapped in. “I’d love to build boats.”
“Well, why don’t you do that?” she asks.
“I don’t really think that’s an option,” I tell her. “I live with my dad and fishing is all we really know. We don’t have much, but we have a boat, so that’s what I’ve always assumed I’d do.”
She stares out at the horizon for a moment before turning to me. “What’s it like?” she asks. “To live like this? All my life, I’ve had someone telling me what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. I’ve never got to make a decision for myself. I didn’t even get to choose nursing to study this fall, and my parents already have a suitor set up for me for when I return home.”
My heart sinks. “A suitor?”
“John Aiken. The son of my dad’s colleague,” she explains. “His family is quite wealthy, and while he's truly a great guy, I don’t want to marry him. I want to live a little for heaven’s sake.”
“I don’t want you to marry him, either,” I blurt. My face heats in embarrassment, and Emma grins mischievously.
“I like you,” she says. “You’re so fun and different from what I’m used to. You’re refreshing.” She winks and takes another sip of her wine. “I’m sorry if I’m being too forward. I think this may have to be my last taste.”
I gulp, the effects of the wine making me a little bolder too. “Come here,” I tell her, scrambling to my feet. I offer her my hand and help her up.
“What are we doing now?” she asks.
“Dancing,” I tell her.
“We don’t have any music,” she giggles.
“You don’t need music here,” I tell her. “Can you hear the waves crashing against the shore and the seagulls crying?”
Emma pauses then nods.
“How about the bullfrogs and crickets?”
She smiles and pulls me closer to her. “Yes.”
“There’s our music,” I say. “The symphony of summer.”
She rests her head on my shoulder. “I never want it to end,” she whispers. “This dance, this song…this summer.”
