Tyler looked sharply at me. His eyebrows hunched over his eyes questioningly. “You weren’t in any danger, not with the life-jacket on.”His blue eyes focused on me, expecting an answer. He stopped walking. “Do you think he’d feel that way because you went with a guy?” He backed away and shook his head. “I mean, I can understand that, but this is what I do for a living, and you wanted to learn.”
I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to think of Gary’s face filled with jealousy, even one moment of it, during our marriage, and I found an empty black space in my mind. I looked at Tyler. “No, Gary’s not the jealous type. He just...” I struggled for an excuse, anything but the truth, “...hates the water. He doesn’t like for me to swim.”
A small flock of gulls alighted in front of us, and I watched the foursome scurry a few feet before one of them glanced our way and flew off, leading the others into a perfectly cobalt sky.
Tyler watched the shimmer of wings explode and vanish. “I always wanted to do that.” He looked down at the moist sand and spotted a quarter-sized pebble half-buried. He bent and dug it out before squatting and trying to skip it across the water. It jumped once and sank amid a wave. “So much for that,” he laughed, standing. He rolled his left shoulder, stretching his muscles and shoved one hand in a pocket. “So why doesn’t Gary like the water?”
I thought of ocean so deep light couldn’t penetrate the darkness, and that’s how I imagined the lumps inside my body appeared. “I guess he thinks I’ll never get back to the surface.” My hands brushed my arms a little more frantically as a slight breeze picked up, chilling me even more.
“You cold?” Tyler asked, staring at my hands. His calm matched the half-hearted smile on his face. The wind lifted strands of his hair, spiking them. “You’ve been doing that for quite a while.”
Feeling self-conscious, I stopped. “Yeah, I guess I am. It seems a little cooler today.”
He nodded. “More of a breeze.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket and pointed to his beach house. “You’re welcome to sit for a while and warm up. And I won’t even get you wet today.” He shoved his hand back into his jean pocket. “I can fix some coffee or hot chocolate.” He waited for me to answer. “It’s up to you, Kelly. If you think it would bother Gary, then let’s not.”
Right then I didn’t think of Gary, just Debra, maybe because it was a package deal. “No, I already told you he wasn’t jealous.” I forced stillness into my hands even though I wanted to keep moving them. “And I am pretty cold.”
Tyler nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Together we walked up the stairs and walked inside the house. I stopped at the kitchen table.
“Can I help?”
“No, you’re my guest. Besides, I’m appliance-literate. Thanks just the same.”
I picked up the conch shell on the table, the same one I’d held before. “A modern man who cooks, cleans, and sails. Some mermaid’s going to get lucky.”
“Yeah,” Tyler snorted as he fed the coffee maker. “As if mermaids need appliances. Then again, it might give them a little charge, I guess.” He shook his head and pointed a warning finger. “If you tell me you see a mermaid when we’re sailing, I won’t be taking you back. I don’t mind clumsiness, but hallucinations are another story.”
We laughed.
Once he’d finished pouring the water, he stopped and stared at me, or more precisely at the shell I held. It filled my hand. “You like that, don’t you?”
I touched the polished interior, liking the way the smooth surface glided under my fingertips. “Yeah. Did you find it here?”
“No, Panama Beach, Florida, actually.”
He folded his arms across his chest. His silver watch glittered as rays of sunlight fell upon it. “You can take it with you, if you want. I have lots more. Part of a collection, I guess.” He arched his eyebrows. “There’s something magical about the ocean.”
My fingers curled around the edges, and I gripped it hard as though it would save me from the black waters of my own body. I wanted someone to give me the ocean to take back. I clenched my teeth and exhaled softly. I could feel a headache coming.
Not now,
I thought
. I don’t want him to know. I don’t want any pity.
I gasped and set the shell back onto the table. My fingers clutched its surface so I wouldn’t lose my balance.
“Kelly, are you all right?”
My fingers probed my temple. “Yeah, I just have a headache. I need to go out to the car. Fresh air.” I winced and clenched my jaw, trying to ignore it. The pain was blossoming, diminishing all other sounds.
No!
I screamed inside, railing against what I knew was coming.
He can’t see me like this. He can’t know. He can’t pity me!
“I have some aspirin. Or Tylenol, if you prefer.” Through the haze clouding my vision, I saw him walk to one of the cabinets and open a door. He pulled out a couple of small pill bottles and offered them to me.
“No, I’ll be okay.” I turned and stumbled toward the door. I managed to slide it open, even with the pain and blackness in front of me. At every step I felt that much closer to vomiting from the agony. I clambered down the steps, barely keeping myself from falling. The world was spinning precariously. A pain throbbed dully in my ankle, weak compared to the hurricane in my head.
I can’t hide this. I’m going to pass out.
“Kelly?” Tyler’s distant voice yelled. “Kelly, what’s going on? Answer me, please.” His voice sounded frantic. Hands tugged at me and I pulled away. At some point, I made it to the car and managed to get the door unlocked. Then the blackness exploded in my head.
Chapter Four
The blackness throbbed in my brain as I struggled with the sluggishness controlling my body. In the distance, I heard someone calling my name.
Gary,
I thought. But that didn’t sound right.
Tyler.
I fought the suffocating stillness, trying to reach the surface, and wondered if this were what drowning felt like.
I opened my eyes, and shafts of pain ripped through me. I winced and licked my parched lips: my throat felt like sandpaper had been dragged across it.
“Kelly?” Tyler asked. The rising pitch of his voice suggested he knew I’d come back to consciousness. “Kelly, can you hear me?”
“Yeah,” I replied. I tilted my head and noticed I was lying on his living room couch. I grabbed onto the cushions and sat up hastily, immediately regretting it as the dizziness assaulted me. My head wobbled, and I dipped backwards slightly.
Tyler grabbed my shoulders and supported me. “Hey, why don’t you just lie back down for a few minutes.”
“I’m fine,” I protested.
He gently pushed me back. “Great. You can be fine from a different angle, okay?”
I stared at him, focusing on his ocean-colored eyes, searching for sympathy. Unblinking blueness peered back. “That must have been one helluva headache,” he said evenly as he sat in the recliner across from the couch. He leaned forward and clasped his hands together while staring.
You have no idea,
I thought. “Yes, it was.”
Tyler’s eyebrows knitted together, and he frowned. “Ever pass out like that before?”
Now he’ll never offer to take me sailing again.
My fingers curled deeper into the fabric of the couch. “Yeah, occasionally. It’s no big deal.” My voice sharpened with each word until my speech sounded rude.
“Have I said something wrong?” Tyler asked softly. “I don’t mean to pry. You just gave me a scare, that’s all.”
“No,” I replied more kindly tone. “It’s not you. My head still hurts.”
The frown faded from Tyler’s face, and he leaned back in the chair as I slowly sat up. Once upright, I waited for the disorientation, but it vanished along with the fog in my head. I looked out the window and spied the setting sun.
“I need a breath of air,” I said, standing. Tyler leaned forward again as I moved away from the couch. Every muscle in his body tightened as though he were a football player about to receive a pass. He expected me to stumble. Instead, I walked out the door and stood on the deck, staring at a fused pink and sherbet sky reflected by the ocean calm.
For at least an hour I watched the light flicker and die, trailing strands of gold as it passed. At some point, Tyler must have come outside, but I didn’t notice, not until the sky started darkening. Only then did I turn and see him standing close to the back door with his hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets.
I quickly searched the lines of his face, expecting to see the latitudes of sympathy. Instead, I saw only the corners of his mouth lift slightly. “What’s so funny?” I asked.
He walked to the spot next to me and leaned over the wooden rail. “I’d never seen anyone watch a sunset so closely. You were so still. It’s like you were memorizing it or something.”
I watched the last trails of gold flicker and ebb from the sky. “I was.”
He rested on his forearms, lowering his head so it was even with mine. As he leaned forward, I saw a simple strand of leather with a shell dangling from his neck. I reached out and scooped it in my left hand. “What is this?” I asked, touching the flat, round shell. Our faces were inches apart. I could feel his breath whispering across my cheek.
“A sand dollar. It’s like my rabbit’s foot. Good luck.”
I stroked the smooth surface, tracing the small holes in it. “Did you find it here?”
He shook his head. “No, my sister found it a long time ago. She knew I collected shells and gave it to me.”
I released it. “Your sister,” I repeated. “Was that the teenager in all those pictures? The redhead?”
Tyler straightened, nodding. “Yeah. That’s Alicia.” He tapped his finger on the railing.
“She’s beautiful.”
Tyler leaned upright and nodded. “Yeah, she was. Probably would have driven every guy around her nuts if she hadn’t died a year ago.”
I watched his face, searching for the lines and shadows of pain. His blue eyes watched the waves roll onward. “I’m so--”
“Don’t be,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to feel sorry for me. I told you because you asked.” He lifted his hand and raked it through his hair. “I think I’ve had quite enough people tell me they were sorry who didn’t even know my sister.” He looked at my face and saw confusion in my expression. “Now look who’s saying all the wrong things. I didn’t mean to sound like an ogre. My family’s got a lot of connections. Hell, at the gathering for the funeral there were so many strangers I had trouble finding my own family because of all the people. There’s a big difference between someone genuinely understanding your pain and somebody who pities you because of it.”
The whole time he spoke, he focused on the ocean, as though trying to hold onto the consistency each wave brought. Another one would always be coming.
Pity? He doesn’t want me to pity him.
I could have laughed out loud would it not have been such poor timing. “I don’t feel pity, Tyler—and you do have a point. It’s kind of useless for someone to say they’re sorry after all; they didn’t cause her death, and they can’t take it back.”
Tyler lifted his hand and set it on mine. The even line of his mouth shifted into a grin. “It’s nice to know somebody understands how I feel.” His fingers squeezed my hand slightly.
I felt a lump in my throat. “There’s nothing worse than pity. Nothing in the whole world.” Pulling my hand away, I took one last glance at the sky as tears blurred my vision. For a moment, I thought about telling him the truth about the tumor and Gary’s affair and why I knew so much about pity. I wondered what his reaction would be. But just as quickly as that thought came, I brushed it aside. Maybe I would tell him, but not now.
“It’s getting dark,” I said. “I’d better be getting back to the hotel before Gary sends out a search party.”
As I headed for the door, I heard him ask, “Are you feeling well enough to drive?”
My hand rose, and I wiped away the two streaks spilling down my face. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I braced my back and took a deep breath. “I don’t get too many of those.”
Tyler walked in front of me and opened the door. Standing in the doorway, I put on my shoes. At the corner of my vision, I saw Tyler go to the kitchen table and pick up the conch I had often picked up. He offered it with both hands. “Take this with you. That way, you’ll always hear the ocean.”
My fingers trembled as I accepted it. “Thank you.” I held the conch under my arm and picked up my keys.
As I stepped out the door, he asked, “What time will you be here tomorrow?” He thrust his hands into his pockets and leaned against the door.
I shrugged. “I don’t know if I’ll be coming to paint tomorrow.”
Tyler laughed and touched my shoulder. “When are you coming to sail? You do still want to go, don’t you?”
I almost dropped the shell. My fingers tightened around it at the last minute. “You don’t mind?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “No. Should I?” He squinted slightly as if he were trying to remember something he had said that would have made me think I wasn’t welcome to go with him. “I’ll have a wetsuit for you this time.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” I finally amended, sorting through the keys until I found the one for the door. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll be here at twelve.” The wind swept my hair into my eyes, and I raised my hand to push it away. I took a deep breath and savored the salty air.
“Good. I’ll have the cat ready, diapers and all.” A mischievous grin appeared on his face. We walked down the stairs side by side, our steps falling in rhythm as we walked.
“Diapers? You mean like Pampers?” I asked as I unlocked the door and set the shell inside. “I can hardly wait,” I mumbled, thinking of a commercial. “I am potty-trained, you know.”
“Wrong kind of diaper, Kelly,” Tyler murmured, tapping one hand against the opposite forearm. “I’ll show you what a sailor’s diaper looks like.” In the twilight between sunset and night, his skin looked golden, and the sand dollar lay against his shirt. He crossed one leg over the other while leaning against the door way.
I waited for him to say something more, but he stared back at me with a half-cocked grin lighting his face. “You’re not even going to explain that one to me, are you?”
“Nope. You want to know, be here at twelve.” His voice sounded deep and fluid, a tide washing to shore. “Or you really will be wearing Huggies.”
I laughed and sat down in the driver’s seat. “See you tomorrow,” I said and waved, closing the door. From behind the tinted glass, I saw him uncross his arms and lift his hand, moving it slowly back and forth. During the drive back to the hotel, I stared into the faint glare of street lights and neon letters, imagining them all washed away beneath the swirling whitecaps I’d temporarily left behind.
* * *
“I thought we’d celebrate by going out to dinner,” Gary said, sorting through his clothes until he’d settled on a charcoal pair of slacks. “The deal is finally finished. Everything went great. Our new client is pleased, and we can go home tomorrow.” His fingers brushed through the huge stack of ties and finally selected a paisley print; he didn’t even glance at me.
“Another job well-done,” I replied, pulling a black cocktail dress out of the closet. “Debra’s been an asset to this deal, no doubt.”
Gary’s fingers stopped moving. He clenched his jaw in response. “Of course she’s been an asset.” He pulled out a white shirt and tugged the plastic wrap from around it. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I asked her to dine with us.” Instead of looking at me, he put it on and focused on draping the tie around the collar.
I hung the dress on the hanger on the back of the door. “No, I don’t mind.” Closing the door, I turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature. Steam billowed from the stall, quickly fogging the mirror. Reaching out, I tested the water. I’d always preferred hot showers to lukewarm ones. Satisfied, I stepped into the stream and let it wash away everything.
I closed my eyes. The water to sprayed my face, stealing my breath, leaving a burning tingle across my face. I lingered in that embrace for precious seconds, absorbing the warmth. In that stolen moment, I realized I wasn’t going back home with Gary, not tomorrow and not ever. I stepped back, washed my body and hair, and rinsed before stepping out and blow-drying my long hair.
After we’d finished getting ready, Gary and I met Debra in the hotel lobby. “How are you doing?” she asked, patting my shoulder with her manicured fingernails.
“Great,” I replied with enthusiasm I didn’t feel. I shrugged away from her hand, watching the diamond tennis bracelet sparkle in he chandelier light. I wondered if Gary had given it to her. “I’ve never felt better.” I painted a smile on my face as we walked through the parking garage to the rental car.
Always the gentleman, Gary opened my door and waited until I had seated myself before closing it. He offered Debra the same courtesy before slipping behind the wheel and driving us to the restaurant. The three of us stared out opposite windows, as though the passing lights had lured us from each other, and conversation didn’t resume until we’d been were seated inside Francesco’s Eatery. Then Gary said to Debra, “That was a fine job you did this week. I could never have closed the deal without you.”