Page 58 of The Luck of Finding You
“Do I look like someone who hikes?” I ask, holding up my foot that has a three-inch heel on it. Yes, I’m someone who always is wearing shoes, and most of the time they are heels.
“Not really, no.” Noah smiles and puts his trash in the now-empty food bag. “Just throwing out suggestions based on the limited things I know about this place.”
“We could go see a movie.” Then I think of the two of us siting close in the dark theater. “Or shopping. You could help me pick out an outfit for tonight.”
“You didn’t bring something to wear?” Noah looks surprised.
“I did. But I could always find something new.” I did bring a dress that will work, but you can’t go wrong with something new, most of the time.
“Or you could wear what you brought and we could find something else to do. Did you bring your swimsuit?” Noah asks me.
“It’s October! That’s hardly a good time for a dip in the pool. Why would I have brought a swimsuit?” I shiver, thinking about how I wore a sweater yesterday and it was still cool out.
“It’s St. George. I think it’s nearly eighty outside already.” Noah holds out his phone to show me the rising temperature on the weather app.
“I could buy a swimsuit.” If I can even find one. I feel like it’s almost impossible to find a swimsuit you like and that’s in your size during the regular swimsuit season. It will be slim pickings, if there are even any available.
“The pool actually looked nice,” Noah says, and suddenly I want to spend the day in the pool with him. I don’t think about why this is the activity I’m most comfortable with out of all the things he’s suggested, but now I’m a woman on a mission.
“Where do you think I’ll be able to find a suit this late in the year?” Do they even sell swimsuits after August?
“Again. St. George. People have pools in their backyard, and they swim in them almost all year round. It shouldn’t be that hard,” Noah assures me. I’m pretty sure he has no idea whether or not people here actually swim all year round.
In the end, I’m the one who ends up being right, and the only suit I can find in my size is the brightest shade of neon orange. I feel like a walking Fanta ad, but I buy it anyway. Maybe it’s good that I don’t look attractive in orange, maybe Noah will take one look and make life simple by telling me we’ll just be friends forever.
Sweat is dripping down my back as I pay the forty dollars for it. I can tell Noah is trying not to laugh as I tuck it gingerly in the bag.
“Not a word,” I say as we make our way back to the hotel. “About the suit or about the color.”
He bites his lip to keep from laughing. “Orange is my favorite color.”
“It is not!" I smack his arm. “It’s the color of a pumpkin. I’m going to look like a pumpkin.”
The laugh he’s been holding back comes out. “You will not. Plus, we’ll mostly be in the pool anyway—it will be harder to see when you’re underwater. But not impossible. It’s like the color of a traffic cone.”
He can’t contain his laughter now, but I can’t either.
“I can’t believe it was the only swimsuit we could find.” Each word comes out between a laugh, because now we’re both laughing so hard that we can’t breathe.
When I put it on, I realize that not only is it orange, but it also has ruffles that I hadn’t paid much attention to in the store. The ruffles are everywhere. What is the point of them? They do not make the swimsuit more feminine or attractive. I mean, if anything, they make it worse.
Noah doesn’t say anything as we take the stairs down to the swimming pool. He doesn’t say anything when a little kid at the pool says, “Mom, that lady looks like orange juice!” Though I do see a hint of a smile again, and now I’m trying not to laugh.
“I personally think I look more like a Creamsicle,” I say as I step into the pool. The water is cooler than I’d like, but it feels kind of nice against the blaring sun.
Noah lets out a deep belly laugh, and I watch his shoulders move. I try not to look at his sculpted chest. Who knew the man had all that under all his Chris Evans sweaters? “A Creamsicle is an appropriate description. Why are there so many ruffles?”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” I splash him with water. “So, do you take all of your lady friends swimming?”
Noah splashes back, then goes under the water; coming up, he says, “Geez, that’s cold.” He shakes the water from his hair. “You’re assuming I have lady friends.”
“Do you not?”
“I mean, yeah, I guess there’s a couple who I’d say are strictly friends. I have a lot of acquaintances. I don’t settle down in one place for too long, so it’s hard to have real friends everywhere I go. Staying in Utah for a year is going to be the longest I’ve been in one place for the past five years.”
We’ve made our way to the deep end of the pool. The kid who said I looked like orange juice is swimming around, and his mom is sitting on the pool steps. Other than that, the pool is empty. “Do you really not want to settle down anywhere?”
“I guess eventually.” Noah makes a wave with his hand as he moves it across the water. “I just haven’t found the right place yet.”
