Logan’s answer comes through then.
Logan:
We have a lot of good memories there, might want to hang onto it.
Another message comes through, this one a photo of a football field, number 6 throwing a spiral across the green. I smile, and another message pops up.
Logan:
This guy would agree with me. That’s where we all became a family.
I lock my phone screen without responding, then stand up and flush the toilet. My friends aren’t wrong – there are good memories here too. Movie nights, parties, family dinners, parts of Logan and Carson’s love story were written here – as well as mine and Penelope’s.
I walk back to my room and look at my bed, remembering the nights curled in my sheets when we were sneaking around my senior year. Running my hand along the nightstand, I close my eyes and breathe in the space, letting the memory of the second time I saw Penelope wash over me. We were so desperate for each other, even when we didn’t know one another – it was like something inside of me was reaching out for her.
There’s a smile tearing across my face when I open my eyes.
Pulling my phone out again, I send a message to Penelope.
Me:
Going to surf, meet me at the beach when you get off?
Walking back downstairs, I head for the garage, and when I flip on the lights, I find my Maserati parked under a thick, cream sheet. Smiling, I walk up to it and peel the sheet back, the light bouncing off the shiny, black paint. Running my hand over the metal, I say a silent hello in my mind, like one old friend greeting another.
In this moment I’m glad that I never sold this car, even though so many of my dark times were spent inside of it.
There are another four cars parked inside the six-car garage, and I walk down the line of them, trying to think of reasons to keep them. None of them besides the Maserati were ever reallymine,but I guess they are now. I stop walking when I’m in front of the G-Class truck, and I know immediately that I need to keep it. Even though it’s six years old, I fucking love this truck.
I finger the keys that hang in a line on the wall and pull down the keys for the G-Class. I just hope there’s gas in the tank after all this time.
I open the garage door behind the G-Class, then unlock the truck before I get in the driver’s seat. Cranking the engine, I cross my fingers and hope it powers up. When the engine rumbles, I smile from ear to ear. Jumping out, I go to where I have surfboards hanging on the wall, pick my favorite one, then strap it to the top of the truck.
When I’m done, I run back inside to make sure I locked the front door, then I get into the Mercedes and throw it in reverse.
* * *
After four hours of surfing,my muscles are burning, and my face is pink from the sun.
Goddamn,I feel alive, though. There’s nothing like getting lost in the ocean, putting your trust in the strength of your legs and your board, hoping you don’t hit a wave the wrong way and fall under. Dragging my board onto the sand, I throw it down, then grab the towel I brought and lay it flat on the ground. I fall onto the towel, put my hand over my eyes, and listen to the sound of the ocean hitting the shore.
I get lost in the noise of the waves, the familiar smell of the salty breeze, and the feeling of the sun beating down on my skin, and before I realize it, Penelope is sitting down next to me in the sand.
“Hey, surfer boy,” she greets me, and I turn my head to the side to look at her.
“Hi, beautiful.” I smile at her. “How was work?”
“Good,” she sings. “I’m ready for a swim, you coming?”
She stands, ripping her dress over her head and tossing it down on the sand before she kicks off her sandals. I admire the tiny black bikini on her body and stand up. “I’ll follow you into Hell if you’re wearing that.”
Laughing, she holds out a hand for me to grab. “C’mon, handsome. I need some ocean.”
I follow behind her, my hand laced in hers, and she leads me into the water. When we’re waist deep, she turns and kisses me. Butterflies attack my body, and I wrap my hands around her hips. She pulls back and looks at me. “Did you have a good day?”
I nod, pulling her out farther in the water. “I went to my old house.”
“Really?!” she says, eyes widening a fraction with concern. “I would have gone with you.”