The Moment of Letting Go

by J. A. Redmerski

  An enormous smile stretches my face so wide that the muscles in my cheeks hurt. I never imagined that something as simple as riding waves on a piece of fiberglass, or foam, or whatever these boards are made of, could be so exciting. I probably thought about being stung by a jellyfish only once the entire time I was out there. It was like the waves and the sun beating down on my head and Luke’s encouraging smiles and gestures blocked out everything else. My eyes are burning from the salt, but I don’t care; my legs and arms are a little sore from all the paddling and such, but I welcome it—I feel exhilarated!

  “That was awesome!” Luke says as he takes his board up and positions it underneath his arm. “A few more private lessons and you’ll be surfing with the locals.” He winks.

  I know he’s just joking around about that part, but I admit, I did pretty good just now and I’m quite proud of myself.

  “Too bad I can’t stay.” The ball of excitement burning behind my ribs suddenly begins to lose its warmth and become something cold.

  We leave the water and walk toward our stuff lying on the dry sand farther away. He sets his board down and bends over, taking off the leash around his ankle, and I check him out quietly from the side: tall, tanned rock-hard body, muscles thick in his arms and his calves. I look down at my ankle quickly and take off my leash, too, when he raises his eyes to me.

  I shake out my beach towel and reposition it on the sand, sitting down on top of it.

  “People work for money,” Luke begins, “and it seems logical that it be the most important thing about having a job, but focusing on the money is usually what makes the job suck, I think.”

  Luke sits down next to me on the towel. He draws his knees up, propping his forearms on top of them, letting his hands dangle freely. I cross my legs and sit Indian-style, resting my hands within my lap.

  “But it’s kind of hard not to focus on the money,” I say, glancing over, “when that’s the only reason you’re working to begin with.”

  “True.” He nods. “But maybe you should like your job first and think of the money it gives you as an added benefit—makes having a job less like an obligation.”

  “Easier said than done!” I scoff and then cover it up with a laugh. “I don’t see how anyone can like flipping burgers or dealing with rude customers on a daily basis or mopping up puke at a bar—so much easier said than done.”

  Just when I think he’s got some real flaws after all, he says, “Oh, trust me, I know. You’re absolutely right.”

  “I’m confused,” I say out loud when really I hadn’t meant to.

  Luke reaches down and picks up a handful of sand and lets it fall slowly through his fingers. Once the last of it falls into a tiny mound between his feet, he smiles over at me.

  “It’s hard to explain,” he says. “And we don’t have much time left together. I think I’d rather use what’s left of it to know more about you. What do you enjoy? And I’m not talking about what your favorite television shows are, but what do you really love to do?”

  Although I do want to know his philosophy on work and listen to him explain himself out of that one, I don’t press the issue. Instead his question about what I love doing excites me.

  “Photography,” I tell him right away. “I love finding the best angles, the most emotional shots, capturing moments with my lens that tell a thousand stories.” I pause, lost in the imagery. “I got my first camera as a birthday present when I turned ten. Been doing it ever since.”

  “Then why aren’t you doing that instead of”—he waves his fingers dismissively—“whatever that is you do that almost makes you cry?”

  My smile fades and I pick up a handful of sand, letting it fall into a little mound in front of my crossed legs.

  “I was going to,” I say, “but there’s not much money in freelance photography—at least, it’s not guaranteed, anyway.”

  “It’s guaranteed for those who kick ass at it, I bet.”

  “Maybe so,” I say with the gentle shrug of my shoulders, “but when you have bills to pay, you tend to do what you have to rather than take unnecessary risks.”

  Luke nods but doesn’t say anything.

  He dusts the palms of his hands together and then gazes out at the ocean. For a long moment neither of us speaks—I’m thinking about how much I’d like to stay and how in just a few minutes I need to be leaving. I wish I knew what Luke was thinking, staring so intensely into the ether. With a gaze like that, there’s always something important going on behind it. Something profound. I feel so drawn to him, so fascinated by him. His way of looking at the world, how everything he says intrigues me and just makes me want to know more about him. He seems so free-spirited, so positive, so alive. Our conversations, although few, mean something, even the little things—most guys who have ever tried to get to know me have been either too shy and nervous to open up, or too focused on trying to impress me to have any kind of intelligent conversation. Luke is gorgeous and confident and intelligent and everything every other guy I’ve ever met, isn’t. And I’ve never had so much fun! Just in the short time I’ve spent with him on this beach, I can’t help but wonder what other exciting emotions I’ve got locked away inside of me that he could easily draw out.

  Snapping out of my thoughts, I stand up and fish my shorts from my bag. But the thought of leaving begins to weigh heavier on my heart the closer it comes time to go; a pang of disappointment settles in my chest, and I find myself struggling to do the simplest of things: stepping into my shorts, buttoning them closed, finding the right words to say good-bye—there are no right words, I quickly realize.

  Luke is still staring out at the water.

  After shuffling my feet into my flip-flops, I reach down and take up my bag, shouldering the lighter weight of it without my towel inside.

  Luke is still staring out at the water.

  I pause, thinking more about how to say good-bye until I realize how ridiculous something so simple is and then I say with reluctance, “Well, I guess I need to head back. I enjoyed—”

  “Stay,” Luke says, looking up at me at an angle. “Why don’t you stay for a while longer? Just a few days.” The serious look in his face takes me aback; the determination, although subtle and soft, makes my throat dry up in an instant.

  “I-I—Luke, I can’t.” Yeah, I can’t stay and I can’t fathom what made him say that to me, or why every part of me wants to.

  He rises to his feet, and the intensity of his gaze sends a shot of warmth through my belly and rushing into my heart.

  I’m so confused … so—

  “I know this sounds crazy,” he says, stepping even closer. “I mean, it even sounds crazy to me, but I want you to stay.”

  Suddenly his hazel eyes light up as if an idea just flashed in front of them.

  “Hey,” he says with a bright face, “you could even give me some pointers on setting up a charity art event at the community center I’m helping organize.” His mouth turns up on one side teasingly. “You could show me some of those mad event coordinating skills you have—I’ll even pay you for your time.”

  I start to smile back at him because that grin of his is infectious, but then I just shake my head. “Luke, I really … I mean, I’d love to help out, but—”

  He takes both of my hands into his and his eyes soften, but with such sincerity and determination. I look down at his hands, his strong fingers curled around mine. I can’t fight the feeling his touch compels, and I tighten my fingers around his in response to it.

  Oh God, what’s happening? Where is this coming from? And why is it not making me want to take off running in the other direction?

  The soft touch of his fingers against the skin of my arms makes my whole body shiver. But I keep my head on straight and take a step away from him.

  He frowns, and I can’t help it—so do I.

  “I … I really can’t,” I say and hate that it’s true. “Maybe we can exchange phone numbers.”

  He shakes his head and bu
ries his hands in his pockets, looking past me, sifting through his thoughts, it seems.

  “I know I probably overstepped my bounds,” he says. “I’m not a freak, I swear, but I just thought I’d take a risk.” He laughs lightly, trying to cover up his slight embarrassment.

  The smile finally returns to my face and my eyes soften on him.

  “I don’t think you’re a ‘freak’ at all,” I say, stepping closer. “It did catch me by surprise, but … well, it wasn’t scaring me away, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  He blushes and his gaze strays from mine momentarily. He’s ridiculously adorable.

  “But I’m curious,” I say, and he looks at me again, waiting, those hazel eyes swimming with something magical I only wish I could figure out. “What made you say it?”

  He looks past me on both sides again, a knot moving down the center of his throat.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he says as a small smile tugs the corners of his mouth, “if I tell you why I said it, will you give me your word that when you go back to San Diego you’ll at least think about spending more time with your camera?”

  Surprised all around, at first I can’t do much but look at his tall height and hard shoulders and the perfectly sculpted bone structure of his face and wonder where he really came from and why he was sent to cross my path, because everything that comes out of his mouth manages to intrigue and excite me and make me feel like I need to stay here.

  I think on his terms for a moment, pursing my lips in pretend contemplation.

  “I give you my word,” I agree with a quick nod.

  His smile lengthens.

  “Good,” he says, and then draws his shoulders up, tightening his arms at his sides with his hands still buried in his pockets. He hesitates as he prepares the answer. “OK, being completely honest, what made me ask you to stay is because I know that if you get on that plane I’ll never see you again.”

  I smile gently.

  “Why do you think you’d never see me again?” I ask. And why are you worried about never seeing me again? My heart sings behind my ribs like a finch in a cage.

  Maybe it’s to distract me, but instead of answering, Luke leans over and picks my beach towel up from the sand. He shakes it out and holds it out to me. Slowly I take it into my fingers, absently stuffing it inside my bag hanging from my shoulder.

  He smiles and buries his hands inside his pockets again.

  “Look, I really enjoyed hanging out with you today,” he says. “And if you’re ever on Oahu again, look me up.”

  Oh no, is this good-bye? What about your phone number? Do I offer mine? Would that seem desperate?

  My phone rings inside my bag, breaking me out of my thoughts.

  “Well, I’ve gotta go,” Luke says and walks away, kicking up sand in front of him as he moves through it.

  I just stand here, frozen, confused, and wanting to toss the distracting cell phone into the ocean so I can think! And Luke just gets farther and farther away. Then he stops and turns around. He points at me and shouts across the beach, “Remember what you promised me! You have to give it some real thought!”

  I hesitate, but finally raise my hand and wave good-bye. “I promise!” I shout with a big bewildered smile.

  And Luke keeps on walking.

  When the numbness finally wears off, I leave the beach and go back to the hotel to pack.

  NINE

  Luke

  That was probably the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done, even more embarrassing than waking up naked the morning after a party, on the front lawn of Seth’s parents’ house. The neighbors got an eyeful that day.

  I smack my palm against my forehead, at first because of making an idiot out of myself in front of the first girl I’ve ever met that made me want to make an idiot out of myself. But then I realize I left the surfboards and my phone on the beach. Make that two stupid things I’ve done today, all because of a girl.

  My brother would be so proud.

  I turn on my heels and head back to the spot where I left them. Sienna is long gone; I look out at the beach toward the hotel and my shoulders slump with a heavy sigh. I run my hands over my face and then just fall against the sand in a sitting position.

  Sitting between the surfboards, I gaze at the ocean, thinking about the girl who got away and the brother who went away. I think about China and then again about the girl who got away. I can’t get Sienna out of my head. I text Seth to see if he’s still hiking with Kendra even though I know he is—they probably won’t be back until this evening. I decide to just go into the shop and hang with Allan, and see if he has any appointments for me today after all.

  When I get up and turn around, I freeze, seeing Sienna staring back at me.

  “Aloha,” she says in the meekest, cutest voice, her freckle-splashed face smiling gently.

  “Aloha,” I say back, and my stomach does shit it’s never done before—it feels warm and mushy and I will never admit that to Seth, lest I become more like a girl to him than Kendra.

  She approaches me, and I find myself just looking back at her, immobile, still surprised that she came back. Her smile is so beautiful, and the way her hair is blown gently against the side of her face makes me want to reach out and move it away just so I can touch her.

  “I know I don’t know you,” she says, stopping two feet in front of me, “and this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done, but I want to know you.”

  I’m still speechless.

  Sienna steps a few inches closer. I still haven’t moved.

  “Have you ever had that feeling,” she goes on, “when you know deep down that you should do something? Like if you don’t do it, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life?”

  I nod. “Yeah, when I asked you to stay,” I answer honestly.

  She steps up another few inches, not with a beach bag or a towel, only herself this time. She smells incredible, like soap and sunshine.

  “Well, I felt it as I was packing,” she says.

  She grins and shakes her finger at me. “Now, don’t think I’m that into you,” she warns, still smiling. “I’m just giving in to the curiosity, Luke Everett, so don’t get the wrong idea.”

  I laugh out loud, shaking my head at her.

  “Same here, Sienna Murphy—I’m not into you at all,” I lie through my teeth, “but I just feel like we might have … things to learn from each other.”

  She nods with a serious face as if to second that motion, but I think she’s as full of shit as I am right now.

  “But I thought you had to go back to work?”

  “I did,” she says, “but I had a talk with my boss.”

  “And?” I raise an inquisitive brow.

  “Well, I have two weeks of vacation saved up that I never got around to using. I wanted to take my parents somewhere nice, but they’ll never go.” She crosses her arms and tilts her head to one side. “So I asked my boss if I could take it now since I’m already in Hawaii.”

  “And your boss agreed?”

  She shrugs and purses her lips. “She was hesitant to let me take it at such short notice,” she explains, “but after I saved the Oahu wedding yesterday, she agreed to let me have the time off now.”

  “Just like that?” I hear every word Sienna is saying to me, but behind all that I really can’t focus on anything but the strange turn of events and how glad I am that she came back.

  She bobs her head once and says, “Yep. Just like that—granted, she was worried about my event in Jamaica, but she has other employees at her fingertips to take over for me. And I know Paige will cover for me.”

  A bit surprised, I say, “You turned down a trip to Jamaica to stay here?” With me? I want to add, but feel like it might be overkill.

  Her freckled face flushes pink and then she shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

  “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  Knowing that I’m about five seconds away from being unable to stop myself from kissing that perfect mo
uth senseless, I smack my palms together loudly, breaking the tension. Sienna jumps a little. God, she’s so damn cute.

  “So two weeks in Hawaii,” I say. “That’s a lot better than three hours.”

  “Definitely.”

  Who needs the sun with a smile like that?

  A moment of silence passes between us. I can’t stop staring at her. “Oh, and I’m happy to give you pointers for your event,” she says, “but I won’t take your money.”

  Shaking my head, I say, “Forget I even said anything about that. You’re not here to work, remember—I was just getting desperate. I would’ve said just about anything to make you stay.”

  She chuckles.

  Finally I decide to let go of all my hesitations and all of the uncertainties and just be myself for a change.

  And it’s liberating.

  I reach out and take Sienna’s hand in mine—my heart leaps when it touches her hand—and I start to walk with her across the beach.

  “So where to first?” she asks.

  “To jump off some cliffs,” I say with a grin.

  Her hand tightens within mine, but I get the feeling it’s not because she’s trying to keep up—I think maybe jumping off cliffs wasn’t what she had in mind.

  Sienna

  I think my heart just dropped down into my stomach—between his brazen decision to take my hand and him saying the words jump and cliffs in the same sentence, I was done for.

  We stop at my hotel for a few things first, mainly my black canvas bag and my digital camera. Then Luke and I catch a bus to head out to a place about twenty-five minutes away.

  It finally feels like a vacation. It feels real and exciting and liberating. I’m snapping photos out the window and even inside the bus of whatever looks interesting, nearly the entire ride. I can’t remember the last time I felt this free, or even if I ever really have. I feel like most of my life since college has been about work and securing the best possible job and future. And I think I lost myself somewhere amid all that.