Page 30 of Redemption
"Let's just say some gentlemen are more generous with their secrets after spending some time with me,” she replied with a wink.
Her red lips curved into a familiar mischievous smile. One thing that always fascinated me about Emma was her natural ability to navigate life and interact with people effortlessly. She could have access to the world with her personality, but she stayed in this town. The car lurched forward, plunging us into opulence. The houses here weren't just houses; they were symbols of wealth.
“Most of the year, these houses are empty. Rich people usually spend a couple of months down here in the winter,” Emma explained.
I looked at her with narrowed eyes. “You aren’t tricking me, are you? We are actually here to paint, right? I’m paying Henry with this painting, remember?”
Emma looked at me with a smile. “Of course we are!”
I felt way out of place. I couldn’t imagine being the person who owned one of these, who lived a life so free to have the ability to have multiple houses just for convenience. We rolled to a stop, having navigated the perfectly maintained neighborhood to the spot with beach access. In front of us was a cute floral garden with a small open field of grass. A stone fountain inthe middle circled by more stone benches. beyond it, a wooden boardwalk extended up and over the sand dunes leading to the beach.
“After we paint, we could come back here and have a little picnic if you want,” Emma said.
“That sounds perfect. I love this little area.”
The weather was perfect; this place was perfect. “How many times have you been here? I asked.
"Once or twice, ten times maybe. Who knows." She giggled and with our supplies in hand, we walked through the garden. Emma looked around, her blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight as she took in the pastel-colored houses and well-manicured lawns. I could see her mind returning to memories of her experiences here. Perfectly pruned roses, vibrant sunflowers, and delicate lilies bordered the main pathway to the boardwalk’s entrance. The sight that greeted us was breathtaking. A stretch of pristine white sand met the ocean; waves gently rolled in under a cloudless sky. We were the only two people here for miles in each direction. The open space was bathed in a golden glow from the rising sun, and it was in that moment I realized how much I needed this. Needed to be here. The peace and beauty melted away my stress and left no room for worrying about the future or the past. Far in the distance toward town, I could see the faintest trace of people dotting the sand. As we got close to the water, we set up the easels near the ground and sat on our towels. We set about our work in silence, pausing only to dip our brushes into water or exchange tubes of paint. The rhythm was familiar, soothing even, and before we knew it, the sun was beating down on us directly overhead and I had finished painting half of my rent payment.
“Want to take a break and put on more sunscreen?” I asked Emma.
She held up her pale arm. “Yeah, I think we’re going to need it. I might be burned already, though.”
We took off our lace beach dresses, revealing the bikinis underneath, and took turns getting each other’s backs. “I’m so sore from hunching over the painting.” I said.
Emma’s casual sunscreen application shifted to a caring massage of my back. I shifted and lay on my stomach, burying my face in a towel; Emma sat over me and continued the massage.
Emma's hands moved gently, her fingers gliding over my sun-warmed skin. Pausing at my shoulders, her thumbs pressed firmly into the tight muscles, working out the knots with circular motions. Each press and release sent pain and relaxation through my back. As she worked her way down, her palms applied gentle pressure along my spine, moving outward in long strokes that seemed to push away the tension.
Smack.
My ass stung under the weight of her slap and I let out a little squeal.
"Emma!" I said in surprise, sitting upright and rubbing the newly reddened spot. She burst into a fit of laughter.
“You don’t want your ass to get burned, do you?”
“No, but that’s not how you put on sunscreen or give someone a massage,” I added.
I smiled and shook my head as she laid back onto her towel, stretching her toned arms above her head with a contented sigh. It was moments like these that reminded me how different we were; I was always lost in thoughts and worried about things that mattered but mostly about things that didn’t, while Emma lived in the present moment. There were times I wished I could be more like her. I could feel we were done painting for the day. My half-finished landscape would have to wait until the next time we came out here. We lay in the sun, protected bysunscreen, gazing out at the cloudless sky. It felt as if the peace and warmth inside me now would be carried with me for at least the rest of the day, but then the earth beneath us trembled. A quick, sharp jolt.
“What the hell..." Emma muttered, rolling onto her side to look at me. Her confusion mirrored my own. “Was that an earthquake?” She asked.
It was rare for earthquakes to happen here, but not unheard of. The earth shook again, a lighter jolt. almost imperceptible.
“I think it was.” I said.
We waited for another one, but it never came. Emma shrugged and laid back down.
“Do you want to head back for the day?” I asked.
“Not yet, we can go to the garden in a bit if you want. I’m getting kind of hungry, but let’s stay for a while longer.”
The earthquake was unsettling, but what could we do about it? I emulated Emma and moved on.
“Did you bring any alcohol?” I asked.
She was laying on her stomach, facing the other way. “No, I forgot. I know, I know, so unlike me.”
