One Moment at a Time

by K. S. Thomas

  “Ky.” I want her to turn her head again. To face me.

  “What?” She refuses.

  “What do you want that you can’t have?”

  Slowly, she inches her body back around until it’s pressed to the railing, disconnected from me in every way. “Same thing you do.” She takes a step back, until only her fingertips still curl around the iron handrail. “To stop playing games.” Then she lets go for good, turns, and walks back inside, disappearing in the sea of people.

  chapter

  ten

  BEN

  I wake up before the alarm even goes off. I don’t remember the last time I was this happy to beat the sun to a new day. Tank’s words still ringing in my ears, I make my way to the coffee maker and get it started while I go about getting ready for the day. A few minutes later, I’m sitting out on the balcony in the only chair out here, feet propped up on the railing and coffee cradled in my hands, nestled in my lap as I watch the sun glow red hot over the ocean. I can’t help but picture Ky running straight at it. Of all the crazy things she asked me to do over the years, I’m starting to see the only crazy part was saying no to any of them.

  Embracing the peace of this moment, I tip my head back against the chair and enjoy my coffee one deliberate sip at a time. I’m only half through my cup when my phone starts vibrating on the small table just inside the sliding glass doors where I left it plugged in to make sure it’s charged for the day.

  “Tank,” I mutter to myself, half amused half offended he sees it necessary to micromanage even this part of my day.

  Only it’s not Tank.

  “Will?” I turn my head back to glance at the clock on my nightstand. It’s barely six thirty and he’s not exactly a morning person.

  “Oh, good. You’re alive.” I can hear him repeat the basics of that statement to someone else in the background. Hanna, I’m guessing. “Are you aware there’s a massive hurricane headed your way?”

  I take in the scene before me, clear skies, stunning ocean and a horizon of vibrant colors all promising a beautiful, sunny day. “I’ve heard mention of it.” I chuckle, remembering my initial concerns on the matter. “Tank says we’ve still got time before we need to worry.”

  “Tank?”

  It’s somehow weird that Will doesn’t know who Tank is. It’s even weirder that I think he should. “Friend of Ky’s,” I explain. “He’s helping me find her.” He hasn’t said as much, but I’m assuming that’s what everything is leading up to, like he’s the magic gatekeeper to Ky. I prove myself to him and he allows me passage. On the other hand, maybe I’ve taken too many steps away from my normal life and am losing all sense of reality.

  “And he’s the local authority on the weather?” Will clarifies, clearly having doubts.

  “Trust me,” I insist. “He’s like, Mr. Florida. He can sniff the breeze coming off the ocean and tell you if it’ll rain or not. It’s weird, but if he says we’ve got time, we’ve got time.”

  There’s more muttering on Will’s end of the line as he continues to convey our conversation to Hanna. “So, just to be clear, Ky is not in Florida?”

  “No.” For all I know, she’s not even in the country. “But I’ll tell you where I’m headed next just as soon as I know.”

  Will sighs loudly, sending a rush of noise through the line. “Hanna wants to know why you don’t just contact her family to find her.”

  “Can’t.” I close my eyes to rest them from taking in the bright rays of the sun. “Her mother died when she was a kid and outside of the few months she was with him when she first came to the states after, her father was absent. Her grandmother raised her, but she died when Ky was seventeen. There’s no one else left to ask.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah.” Hit me like that too, first time she told me. My family is far from perfect, but I’ve still got them. She has no one. No siblings, at least none that she grew up with. No family to claim her. “There might be more family on her mother’s side, but they’d be in France. Last I heard, she was trying to get back in touch, but it was hard since she hadn’t seen them in nearly two decades.”

  “France, huh?” Will sounds thoughtful. “Hope you’ve got your passport in order.”

  “I do.” Same thing occurred to me sometime last night after Tank mentioned my being on a plane out of here in time to miss the storm. If Ky ever settled anywhere, it would likely be the one place she possibly still has roots. “But if I want a chance to use it, I gotta get going. Tank will be here to pick me up any minute.”

  “And we’re sure Tank is just a nice dude, not some weird secret cult leader trying to phase you into their underground society?”

  I laugh. “Yeah, we’re sure.” I start to get up, giving the ocean and sun one last look before I head back inside. “But if you’re worried, you can check him out at SUP Adventures. That’s his business.”

  “And his real name?”

  Shit. Never even thought to ask. “Fish tank? Dude, I don’t know. Google the business and I’m sure you’ll find him.”

  “What about Ky? Hanna wants to know if she can Google her too while she’s at it.”

  I shrug, stepping inside and pulling the door shut behind me. “She can try. Not much to be found on Kylie Hannigan though.”

  “Any chance she’s using a different name now?”

  “You mean, like her mother’s name? It’s Laurent. Not much to be found there either. I tried.”

  He hums uncomfortably before he says, “No, I meant like a married name.”

  “Oh.” I shake my head. The longer I do, the more aggressive the motion grows. And it’s for my sake alone, to remind myself how certain I am it’s impossible. Then, I answer Will. “I think Tank would have mentioned if that were the case.” Also, she can’t be married if she’s not married to me. And even if she were, she’d never take someone else’s name. Her father made sure of that when he forced his own on her after her mother died. “Speaking of Tank, I really need to go.”

  “Call me before you get on the next plane,” Will says.

  “Yep.” The call ends just as I’m leaving my room and heading for the elevator. My mind rehashes the last few seconds of conversation over and over until I’m standing outside in the parking lot, watching Tank’s Jeep pull in.

  “Punctual,” he says, greeting me with a grin. “I like it.”

  I nod at my watch then back at him. “You, not so much.”

  “I run on fuck-it time.” He smirks. “It’s liberating. You should try it.”

  I grab the bar overhead and pull myself into the passenger seat. “I’ll put it on the list.” As soon as I’m seated, I take the pamphlet I saved from yesterday from my pocket and hold it out for him to see. “In the meantime, let’s start with this.”

  Tank eyes it, shifting back into drive. “Starting off strong, I see.”

  “Go big or go home, right?” I flip the pamphlet over, looking for a number to call. “Think we can get in on such short notice?”

  “Normally, no. Track’s not open every day.” But Tank’s grin suggests otherwise. “Lucky for you, I know a guy.”

  “And he can get us on the track for a ride along?” I ask, peering down at a picture of the Daytona Speedway. “I’ll pay extra to make it happen.”

  “He can do better than that. He can get you into the driver’s seat.”

  I watch him as he zips into traffic. “You ever done it?”

  He shakes his head. “It’ll be a first for both of us.”

  Tank’s not kidding. And it’s not only one first for me, either. When we arrive, we’re greeted by his buddy Steve, an actual NASCAR driver, who happens to be local, but who I don’t recognize because I don’t watch NASCAR (I’m impressed all the same). Steve in turn, introduces us to a guy named Axel, who gives us the grand tour of the entire facility. Somewhere around brunch o’clock, we’re taken to a private suite and fed mountains of food, which I’m hesitant to eat because I’m not completely convinced I won’t puke it
all back up again come race time, while mingling with several important industry people I still don’t recognize.

  While the food settles, we get a one on one lesson on all things engines and all that goes into making a racecar as fast and as safe as possible. Then, it’s driving time. A few lessons from the passenger seat, and next thing we know, Tank and I are taking turns cruising the track, both of us riding along with the other, making the most of our time here.

  The adrenaline is still coursing through our veins by the time we’re back in the Jeep, heading back to the house to meet Lacey who’s eagerly awaiting the tales of our epic day of trying new things.

  “Whooohooooo!” Tank hollers as he steps through the front door.

  “Hell yeah!” I reiterate his sentiments.

  “I’m feeling very ‘boys will be boys’ watching you two right now,” Lacey says, walking out from the kitchen to meet us. “I take it the first outing was a success.”

  “Such a success, I don’t know how Ben’s going to top it.” Tank pats me on the shoulder as he breaks away from me to properly greet his girl.

  “Tell you the truth, I’m kind of wondering that myself,” I admit. “Originally, I was going to ask you about going out on in the ocean. Doing something crazy like shark fishing, or deep-sea diving or whatever the hell else there is to do out there,” I pause as the view of the intracoastal meets my eye through the back windows, “but now I’m having second thoughts.”

  “Don’t think it’ll be exciting enough to compete with racing around the speedway?” Lacey asks.

  “No.” I step closer to the window, something about the scene pulling me in. “I think it’ll be plenty exciting. That’s the problem. It feels like more of the same.”

  Tank moves in beside me, both of us staring out at the water now. It’s calm and blue, reflecting the clear skies. “Hard to believe we’re on the verge of a hurricane, huh?”

  I turn back over my shoulder toward Lacey. “Has there been an update on the weather?”

  She nods. “Path is pretty set in our direction. Could shift, of course, but most of the predicted patterns have it moving through here. And given the warmth of the water is extreme right now, they’re expecting it to keep building rather than lose strength before it hits.”

  I look around their home, the animals, the life they’ve built here. “What will you guys do?”

  “The house is storm ready,” Tank says, finger pointing out at the window. “We’ve got shutters in place, just need to close them up. The garage is always stocked in sandbags in case of flooding, and we keep the usual storm supplies on hand year around. Tomorrow we’ll canvass the neighborhood, make sure everyone else is ready, too. Then, we’ll go to the shop, sort everything out over there as well.”

  “Will you evacuate?” From a distance I never understood how it was even a question. Of course, you evacuate. No possession is worth dying for. But now, standing at the center of it, it’s not so easy.

  “If they make us,” Tank says. “But we’ve ridden plenty of storms out here. There’s something special about this little pocket of the coast, somehow, we’re always spared from the worst.”

  Lacey moves in at his side and he wraps his arm around her shoulders until her head is resting against his chest, all of us still looking out at the water. “It’s a sacred space,” she says softly. “So many of the locals are protective of our oceans and the land here, and that intention, that energy...it shields us. I can’t explain it, but I believe it with every fiber of my being.”

  Tank nods, stopping only to kiss the top of her head.

  “I just figured out what I want to do.” I smile, running my fingers along my chin as I contemplate the possibilities. “I want to help out while I’m still here, do whatever we can do to get everyone as ready as you are.”

  “Yeah?” Tank seems pleased with my suggestion.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Does it qualify as something you’ve never done before?” Lacey inquires before giving me the go ahead.

  “I mean, I’ve lived inland my entire life, so hurricanes aren’t really something I’ve ever dealt with. As far as helping out, Will and I set up a sponsorship fund to help out small businesses in need of a remodel, but that’s it. That’s my usual, just enough, comfortable way of doing things.” I don’t even know why I’ve never taken more action, been more hands on. It’s not like I’m lazy. I guess I just never felt close enough to anything, didn’t care on a personal level, to be invested enough to jump in. Somehow, looking out at the water, seeing the occasional fin surface as the dolphins move through in search of their next meal, it’s impossible not to care.

  “I’d say it more than qualifies then,” Lacey says, winking as she unwinds herself from Tank’s embrace and starts for the door. “Come on,” she calls out, hand on the doorknob already. “We can start on the beach and work our way across the island to the intracoastal.”

  Neither Tank nor I need to be told twice. Before I know it, we’re walking on the sand, collecting garbage washed onto shore or left behind by thoughtless beach goers, taking down the community trash cans to lock them up from the winds to come, and stopping at any house along the way where extra hands are needed for boarding up windows and putting up or tying down anything that might blow away.

  We work until late after dark, until I’m physically exhausted, but too emotionally satisfied to care. We never stopped for dinner but were fed plenty along the way by those grateful for the extra hands while trying to preserve their homes ahead of the storm.

  “Tea?” Lacey offers, holding a mug out in my direction. The steam is billowing from the top and I can smell the sweet scent of chamomile and honey.

  “Thanks.” I take it, careful not to spill on the sofa I’m sitting on. Tank is spread out on the floor, laying on his back, arms and legs spread out like a starfish.

  “Tea?” he mutters. “After everything, you’re offering him tea?”

  Lacey smiles, eyes twinkling when she does. “It’s not all I’m offering.” She reaches into the pocket stitched into the pantleg of her baggy green harem pants and retrieves a small white envelope with a single red rose, dried and taped to the front of it. “Here. I believe you’re ready for this.”

  I take it and my heart instantly pounds harder. “Is it from Ky?”

  Lacey doesn’t answer, just steps back until her thighs brush the recliner behind her and has a seat. When I don’t move, she gestures for me to go ahead and read the note.

  The pounding of my heart reaches my fingers, making them shake as I peel back the flap and take out the letter.

  Ben

  One last game. Promise. And if you’ll play, really play - all in, who knows? Maybe this is one we could both win.

  There’s something waiting for you in Valensole, France, tucked away at a small lavender farm by the name of Laurent Lavande. It’ll be there until you come to claim it.

  Your move, Ben.

  Love,

  Ky

  chapter

  eleven

  BEN

  “I feel weird leaving you guys when this storm is about to hit.” I peer just past Tank and Lacey, through the wall of windows. The skies still don’t tell of the impending doom the weather channel keeps promising.

  “You should feel weird about staying,” Tank says with a laugh. “Look around you.” He points at the crowds of people lining up for the security check trying to get to their gates in time to make their flights out of here. “Everyone else is getting the hell out of dodge.”

  “Also,” Lacey adds, sounding ever the voice of reason, “we’re going to be fine, and you have your own storm to chase.”

  I smirk. I like how Lacey gets Ky. “Speaking of storms. Do we know what the weather is like in France this time of year? Because I packed for Florida when I left my house.”

  “It’s France, buddy,” Tank says, clapping my shoulder as if to get me moving. “It’s only the most romantic country in the world. I’m sure their weathe
r is a perfect sunny and seventy-eight degrees at all times to accommodate the romance factor.”

  Lacey, who seems more realistic of the two, smiles as she reaches in to hug me one last time and says, “Also, they sell clothes in France. Now stop thinking about all the different ways this is a crazy idea. It is a crazy idea. Accept it. Roll with it.” She releases me, still grinning. “Just channel your inner Ky.”

  I never really had one of those. It’s why I always needed her on the outside. Preferably, next to me where I could see her and touch her. And smell her. And hear her. God, I never realized how much all of my senses enjoyed her company.

  “Alright. I’m going.” I start for the line. “But I’ll be back,” I promise. It’s only when I say the words out loud, I know that I mean it. I will be back. In just a few short days here, I’ve fallen in love with this place. The ocean. The wildlife. The people. More importantly, I suddenly understand how little I like living inland. Even the mountains I grew up with don’t call to me the way the ocean does.

  Which reminds me, I need to call Will.

  I wait until I’m through the cattle like process of being herded through security and find my freedom on the other side. My gate is easy to locate and as it’s an international flight, I arrive with plenty of time to spare, allowing me to find a seat near the windows to make the call.

  “About to be airborne?” he asks as soon as he answers.

  “Yep.” I chuckle, about to confirm his initial suspicions. “Destination Valensole, France.”

  He laughs. “Well, at least you’re getting to see the world while in pursuit of this woman.” I can hear quiet whispering in the background. Clearly, Hanna is part of this conversation as well. “Is Ky going to be there? Have you talked to her?”

  “Not exactly.” I’m torn on telling him about the letter. He’s just barely on board with my levels of insanity where Ky is concerned, I’m not sure how he’ll feel about the fact she’s left me a real-life treasure hunt complete with clues to track her down. “I got a note from her.”