by Edie Claire
My heart skipped a beat. He seemed so certain. “But you let me invite him to come to Cheyenne for rehab,” I protested weakly.
“Oh, I knew he’d never go for that,” my dad said dismissively. “I’m sure he appreciated the offer. But trust me, the Florence Nightingale thing is a woman’s fantasy. To a man, it’s a damn nightmare.”
I blinked, then looked at my mother. She shrugged. “He’s probably right, Kali. The male ego knows no bounds.”
“But why wouldn’t Zane say so?” I asked. “If that was the only reason he didn’t want to see me?”
My dad threw me a heavy look. “Did you ask him outright why he didn’t want you to visit?”
I didn’t answer for a moment. “No,” I admitted. I had been too afraid of Zane’s answer.
I put my head back down and examined the last few boxes. None were labeled ‘kitchen.’ “I’m going to look for that box upstairs, Mom,” I declared, hoping to end the conversation. But before I could reach the staircase, a rooster crowed in my pocket.
“Speak of the devil,” my father said with a grin.
I whipped out the phone. It was a text.
Sorry — was out on the water! Where are you? Want me to drive to Honolulu?
I stood still at the bottom of the staircase, my blood all seeming to pool in my feet. “He wants to see me,” I announced, my voice ragged. “Like… now.”
“There’s a shocker,” my dad teased. He threw a triumphant look at my mother. “Tell me I don’t know about these things!”
“You’re brilliant, Mitch,” she deadpanned back. Then she looked at me. “Do you want to take the car?”
I envisioned the reunion I had been looking forward to for so long happening out front with my parents surreptitiously peeking out the window. They would want Zane to come in so they could meet him…
No way. Zane could face the Colonel’s interrogation another day. But today we would meet where it all began — at the beach. “Could I?” I asked hopefully. The missing box had still not been found.
“Go ahead,” my father said cheerfully, surprising me. “Your mother and I can always take the bus if we need to get to the store. One nice thing about city living!”
My mother’s face showed less enthusiasm. But I knew she wouldn’t stop me now. “It’s fine by me,” she said tiredly. “But don’t stay out late or you’ll get too drowsy to drive. And don’t forget you’ve got more unpacking to do before your bed will be fit to sleep in.”
“I won’t,” I promised, running up the stairs to change out of the grungy clothes I’d been unpacking in for the last two hours.
Stay where you are, I texted to Zane as I moved. I’m coming to the North Shore!
Chapter 13
I was so nervous I couldn’t stand it. It was a miracle I got the car out of the city traffic in one piece. But I did do it, and here I was. The Kamehameha highway. Ehukai Beach Park was just ahead.
My fingers had been gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles felt stiff. If my dad’s motivational analysis was right, Zane could be as anxious to see me as I was to see him. But I couldn’t help worrying that he might still be weak or struggling with injuries he wouldn’t talk about. He said he’d been “out on the water,” true, but he didn’t say he’d been surfing; and if he had, he’d almost certainly be bragging about it. Maybe he wasn’t strong enough to swim in such dangerous currents yet. Maybe he was just getting used to the ocean again, paddling around…
Sunset Beach Elementary School loomed up on my right. The playground stood empty; it was summer now for everyone. I turned left into the small beach parking lot. There were plenty of open spaces — a dead giveaway for lousy surf conditions.
I parked the car and took my keys from the ignition. I was beyond excited now. I was nearly sick to my stomach. I briefly considered sitting still a moment and trying to collect myself. But instead I jumped out, locked the car, stuffed the keys in my shorts pocket, and pointed my feet toward the beach. It’ll be okay, I told myself. No matter what kind of shape he’s in, no matter how awkward it might seem, no matter how big a fool you make of yourself… it will be okay.
I lifted my chin and looked up. I couldn’t see the ocean; the beach sloped up from the parking lot to a rise where the bathhouse and lifeguard tower were. From that ridge, I knew, one could look down across a sweeping view of Ehukai beach and its world-famous Banzai Pipeline. But I wasn’t interested in seeing that. I was interested in the lone figure who looked back at me from his perch on top of one of the concrete picnic tables near the ridge.
He smiled.
It was Zane.
Time seemed to stop as my eyes took in what my mind was still too muddled to believe. This wasn’t the pale, frighteningly weak Zane who had left me behind in Nebraska. Nor was it the wispy, nebulous wraith I had seen here once before. This Zane was standing tall, barefoot, wearing a sun-faded tee shirt and board shorts still damp with seawater. His arms and legs were toned with healthy muscle and dotted with sand. His blond curls hung loosely about his face, fluttering with the breeze.
He was even freakin’ tanned.
I watched, speechless, as he jumped off the table into the air and then down to the ground, his arc of movement so high and smooth I was sure it was deliberately theatrical.
He did stuff like that.
“Kali!” he called, still smiling.
I had been moving toward him; now I was ten feet away. He wasn’t permanently injured. He was perfectly fine. He was better than fine. He was the most incredibly gorgeous thing I’d ever laid eyes on.
And he was smiling at me.
My feet stopped moving. It was too much. At any moment, surely, he would disappear. I was afraid to breathe.
But then he moved toward me. It was only a step, but that was all it took to break my paralysis. Because with that step came a motion my heart couldn’t resist even if I’d been totally and completely brain dead. He lifted his arms.
I ran into them.
What happened next was indescribable. I threw my arms around his neck; his own wrapped around the small of my back and lifted me off the ground. Beyond that I knew nothing, could think of nothing. All I could do was feel. Warmth. Ecstasy. Peace. Joy. His touch was sunshine, it was rain, it was hot cocoa and a crackling fire on a cold winter’s day. I was enveloped, I was cared for, I was safe, I was home. I held him tighter and tighter still, savoring the warm, solid, human feel of him, marveling at his holding me back in equal measure, wondering how could I have ever lived one moment in the absence of such complete and utter bliss. The force that pulled me toward him was so strong, so alive, so insistent… This was good. It was right. It was real. It was forev —
OMG, how long have I been holding him?!
I broke away like a strong magnet lets go of metal — reluctantly and not without a kickback. I couldn’t do it any other way. I took a step back and tried to collect myself. Had he let me go? Had he been trying to detach me before that? I had no idea. My brain hadn’t been working.
And still, I could feel that incredible pull…
I took another half step back. Gathering all my strength, I looked up at him.
He blinked back at me. I couldn’t feel his emotions, which didn’t surprise me. But his green eyes weren’t particularly difficult to read. Joy. Excitement. Puzzlement. Perhaps a stunned sense of shock.
Or maybe that’s just what I was feeling.
At least he didn’t seem embarrassed. That was all me.
We looked at each other for a moment without speaking. I thought, for a second, that he was about to reach a hand up towards my face. But then he took a half step back instead.
“Wow,” he said simply.
Had he felt the same thing? Or was he just flattered by my enthusiasm? I couldn’t tell. He had a way of masking his emotions when he wanted to. It was one of many small things I knew about him. But of course, he wouldn’t know me as well. Aside from two conversations at his bedside, a couple on the phon
e, and a whole bunch of texts, he really didn’t know me at all.
I had to remember that.
Take it slow, Kali. I begged myself. You have time.
“You are going to say something eventually, aren’t you?” he asked good-naturedly, raising one eyebrow.
I realized I had yet to say a word.
My lips twisted into a grin. “You have a problem with nonverbal communication?”
His smile broadened, showing straight white teeth as perfect as the rest of him. “Oh, no,” he corrected. “As of now, I’m a big fan.”
The ice was broken.
I smiled back at him. Then I stepped away and pointed toward the longboard leaning against the picnic table. “Been ripping a few, have you?” I said lightly. “I was worried that you weren’t fully recovered yet. I guess you must be feeling pretty good.”
“I feel fabulous,” he returned, picking up the board and tucking it under his arm.
Tanned biceps… oh, my.
“But I’m not 100% yet,” he continued. “The doctors said it could take up to a year for me to get back into peak condition; I’ve been shooting for three months.” He began walking toward the beach, gesturing for me to follow. “Ordinarily, I’m a patient person. But come on… it’s Hawaii, you know?”
Did I ever.
“Just look at that,” he said with reverence as we reached the top of the rise. “I still can’t believe I’m really here.”
Neither could I. I joined him in looking out over the sweep of beach. Pale sand, blue water, funky lava rocks, towering green peaks beyond. This particular stretch was a familiar sight to me. But this time, something was wrong. “What happened to it?” I cried.
He looked at me strangely. “What happened to what?”
“The waves!” I moaned.
He laughed out loud. “It’s June, Kali. The big surf won’t get kicking again until fall. Summer’s flat as a pancake.”
I knew that. “Oh, right,” I said, not bothering to hide my disappointment. “So what have you been doing ‘out on the water?’”
He shrugged. “Just paddling around. Getting the feel of the breaks. Every once in a while, a two- or three-footer will roll in. Most of all, I’m getting to know the locals. There’s a pecking order here — you have to respect it and work your way up.”
I looked out at the placid ocean. Not a single surfer was in the water — at least not a live one. The beach was nearly deserted except for a half-dozen walkers and two girls in bikinis who were sunbathing on mats a couple hundred yards away. Both girls appeared to be watching us.
Or rather, they were watching Zane.
Had he met them already? I felt an uncomfortable twist in my stomach.
“How about we walk down the beach a bit?” he asked, heading in the direction opposite the sunbathers.
“Sure!” I agreed, a little too enthusiastically. I couldn’t feel the girls’ emotions at this distance, and I wanted to keep it that way. I slipped off my sandals and joined Zane. The warm, deep sand sucked down my feet and squished around my toes. The sun shone brightly from the afternoon sky, even as my brain expected a cool, gathering Wyoming dusk.
My head spun a little. It was all too surreal.
“So tell me about the move,” Zane said cheerfully as we started off. “How does it work with the military? Did you fly commercial? How do you like your new house?”
I smiled. Always, he had taken an interest in what was going on with me — even the little things. I answered his questions gladly and slid in some of my own. My feelings of awkwardness disappeared, and with each step along the calm ocean I felt my spirits rise.
Until, suddenly, he went quiet and stopped.
“What is it?” I asked. I had not been paying the least attention to where we were walking, but now I also stopped and looked around. He was staring back into the houses that lined this section of beach. Specifically, he was staring at the rental condo in which my parents and I had stayed over break.
I felt a wave of giddiness. “What are you staring at?” I repeated.
He turned. “I was hoping you could tell me. It’s been messing with my mind for weeks now. Is that where you were staying when we met?”
I tried hard not to smile. “What makes you think so?”
His mouth twitched a little. Clearly, he knew my game. “Because every time I look at it, particularly that back patio, I get a very weird feeling.”
“Tell me,” I begged.
His green eyes held mine. “It’s a jumble of different feelings, really. I’d say excitement is the main one. Optimism. Laughter. But it’s not all positive. Every once and a while I’ll be looking at it, and then suddenly I’ll feel… very sad.”
“Bittersweet,” I said softly. “That about sums it up. Yes, that’s where I was staying. I would talk to you on the patio so my parents couldn’t hear me. It was only sad because of your situation, and then… well, when we knew you were leaving.” And a few other awkward moments, I didn’t add. “Does looking at it make you feel anything else?”
His face changed slowly into a grin. “Maybe. But I’m pleading the fifth on that one. For now.”
My cheeks flushed. Stop that! I ordered myself. I started walking again, and he followed me.
“Kali,” he said seriously, “I can really use your help. These random feelings I keep getting all over the place… they’re driving me crazy.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Welcome to my world,” I quipped.
“Tell me more about that,” he asked. “Any progress with the blocking thing?”
We were a good deal further down the beach before I finished filling him in on everything that had happened since our last phone conversation at prom. He was as fascinated by my abilities as he had been the first time I’d told him about seeing the shadows; if possible, even more so.
“You can’t tell what I’m feeling though, right?” he asked for the second time.
“I told you I couldn’t,” I said with suspicion. “But you never know, things may change.”
He offered his sexiest smile. The effects were devastating, as usual. “I hope not,” he replied. “Some of them could get me into serious trouble.”
I tried really, really hard not to blush again. “No doubt,” I said. I might have sounded cool, if my voice hadn’t squeaked as I said it.
Now I did blush.
He pretended not to notice. “Kali,” he said with a sudden earnestness. “I hope you were serious about the do-over, because I am.”
My pulse went into overdrive. I wasn’t sure what to say. I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant.
“I want to go back over everything that happened before,” he continued. “Step by step. I want you to take me there, tell me everything you remember. So I can match up all these crazy, random feelings I keep getting with something concrete. I can’t move on with my life until I do.” He stopped and looked at me. “I want to know everything you know… about what happened with us. Is that asking too much?”
Somewhere deep inside me, a little chord of fledgling hope twisted… then snapped. Of course he was eager to see me. I was his only link to the supreme mystery that was his out-of-body experience as a wraith. The only one who could give him answers, grant him peace. Once again, just as before, he was dependent on me — and me alone.
He had no choice.
“Of course it’s not asking too much,” I answered, my voice as bright as I could make it while I died inside. “You know I’ll help you however I can.”
So that you can “move on” with your life.
With me… or without me.
“Thanks, Kali,” he said warmly, flashing another killer smile.
I felt another painful twinge in my gut, and looked away.
Chapter 14
Kylee and Tara didn’t often agree in their advice to me. But on this point they were united: I was overanalyzing. And if I didn’t cut it the hell out, chillax, and enjoy myself, they were going to dog paddle across the
Pacific and kick my pessimistic butt clear to Japan. So what if Zane felt grateful to me? So what if he needed my help? That didn’t mean he didn’t care. That he wouldn’t want to be with me regardless. Where did I get off anyway, thinking so little of myself all of a sudden?
They had a point.
I missed them terribly.
I stood in front of the louvered window in our new living room, looking anxiously out into the street. It was nearly noon; Zane could be here any second. Today was the day, he had insisted as I drove away from the beach last night, that I would have my first swimming lesson. No putting it off.
“You make sure he comes in, now,” my dad ordered, watching me as he tried to repair a coffee table beat up by the move.
“I will,” I agreed, trying to unknot my insides. What guy would want to miss out on the world’s most sphincter-tightening “meet the father” experience ever?
My dad was, for all his bluster, really quite a pushover. But no sane human meeting The Colonel in full intimidation mode would believe that. Even Tara and Kylee were still a little afraid of him, and they’d seen the man eating cereal in Darth Vader pajamas.
A small, beat-up hatchback decked out with both roof and bike racks pulled up the street and parked along the curb. My dad stepped up to the window behind me. “Not much of a vehicle, is it?” he commented.
I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an insult. As much as my dad worshipped planes and most other giant means of transportation, ordinary-people cars had never held the same fascination for him. Our own were always the utilitarian type — boring but functional. I decided to spin it positively. “He told me that he didn’t want to spend a lot of money on a car,” I explained. “He’s saving up for other things.”
My dad’s eyebrows rose. “Such as?”
“I’m not sure,” I answered, watching as Zane hopped out of the car and headed for the front door. He moved easily, confidently. He looked amazing in a bright blue polo and new board shorts. “College, I guess,” I offered, trying to think of the most parent-friendly answer. I really had no idea what Zane wanted to do with his money — I only knew that he stood to inherit a lot of it when he turned twenty-one.
