To the Sea (Follow your Bliss)

by Deirdre Riordan Hall

  Leaning back, Kira looked out toward the sea, carefully considering his words. “Jamie, stung, but it didn’t hurt as much as you might think. We weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend. We were a fling. We were having fun. We were me getting over something so ugly I wouldn’t wish it on you or Amanda. I think I’m going to be okay.” Kira let these words settle over them. “But thank you,” she said following up.

  Jamie looked at her with surprise.

  “Thank you for the good time,” she said with a smirk. “And thank you for inviting me here, to Africa. It wasn’t what I expected, but it was just what I needed. Thank you for having the balls to come to me and say what you did. I sort of thought you’d be getting busy with one of those college girls.”

  “I can’t say I hadn’t thought about it.”

  Kira shook her head at him in disbelief.

  “But tonight, when I was offering the toast, something didn’t feel right. I looked at you, and I felt off. You worked your sorcery on me witchy woman.”

  Kira laughed.“Me? Witchy woman? Ha!”

  “Yeah, when we first met all I thought was, hey smexy—”

  “What?”

  “Smart and sexy.”

  “Keep going…” Kira said accepting the flattery, even though that expression was new to her.

  “But you’re deep like the ocean. But when I look at you I still think smart, hot…sex—?”

  “Hey, wait a minute, if you’re here thinking you and I are going to end up in that bed—”

  He held up his hands in defeat. “Well no, but you can’t blame me for trying. But really, I just want to clear the air and let you know that sleeping with Amanda doesn’t reflect on you. I’m still attracted to you—”

  Kira started to cut him off.

  “Wait, I think you should hear this. You’re beautiful. You don’t need some surfer bloke to tell you that. But me sleeping with Amanda wasn’t because I thought she was hotter or anything like that. It was just me being an ass. Do you understand?”

  Kira nodded, deep in thought. Without realizing it, he told her he wasn’t Jeremy. However, Kira also understood that someday she needed more than flirting and sex in a relationship. She required honesty and authenticity. Jeremy was an epic fail, and Jamie was nearly a repeat, but through those experiences, some act of grace brought her to understand what she wanted and what she was worth.

  Kira and Jamie went on to talk about South Africa, its beauty, the people, and the surfing.

  “The word amazing just doesn’t do it justice, but I can’t think of another one except stoke, but that sounds odd when describing a place,” Kira said fully integrating the surf slang into her vocabulary.

  “I know what you mean. Stoke is a state of mind, but maybe a place too.” He paused and then continued, “So will you continue to surf? You’re getting really confident out on the water.”

  “Absolutely, whenever I can. I started at a time when the rest of my life was suspended, if you know what I mean. But yeah, even when we were in the Karoo, as incredible as that was, I was longing to get back in the water.”

  “You’ve been bitten by the surf bug,” he teased, laughing. “I won’t be surprised if I find you somewhere in the world, on one of my trips, totally gone native, surfing day and night, hair bleached out, and tanned like a coconut.” They both laughed at the image. “Live free and surf,” Jamie said.

  “You never know. Oh, hey, I have something to show you.” Kira got her camera, and plugged it into her laptop setting it on the table between them. She flipped past the ones she’d uploaded of Ian, excitement rising up and dancing in her belly in a flurry. They looked at the photos she’d taken of Jamie surfing, chatting much longer than Kira had intended. When the time came for Jamie to return to his room, they exchanged a hug and nothing more.

  “It’s been good to know you,” Kira said.

  “You too. I hope we see each other again.”

  “I don’t know, globetrotter. Maybe out in the waves,” she said.

  Kira woke to watch the sunrise over the ocean. The energy of the discussion she and Jamie had the night before lingered like dusty outlines in the chairs on the deck. Jeremy and Jamie had guided her to knowing what she truly wanted and deserved in a relationship. Kira could go back home without any loose ends, she had closure.

  Later that day, she grumbled at the flight desk in the airport, unable to change her seat. While waiting in the terminal, a tall, tanned figure plopped down next to her, sunnies perched on his head.

  “Did you try to change the seat?” Jamie asked nonchalantly.

  “Yeah,” she said slightly guiltily, a smile hinting at her lips.

  “Me too.”

  “No luck?” Kira said.

  “None.”

  “Can I ask why?” she asked.

  “Too tempting. I thought for sure we’d sleep together last night,” he said in his flirty Australian accent.

  “Disappointed?” she asked, her mouth hanging open, though she knew she shouldn’t be surprised.

  “Disappointed that we didn’t sleep together last night or that we have to ride back together?” he asked.

  “Both,” Kira said.

  “We could repeat our flight over and take care of my disappointment,” Jamie said, unable to hide a grin.

  “My, you are persistent,” she said turning to face him. Without thinking, she planted a big, succulent kiss on his lips. “Better?”

  “Definitely,” he said with a smirk.

  “That’ll have to do. It was the last bit of closure I needed for me, and for you, that was something to remember me by,” she said.

  “Oh, I will,” he said winking. “Mile high club?” Kira punched him in the arm jokingly.

  After the flight, they hugged goodbye at the airport. Kira sluggishly gathered her luggage and returned to the Mercedes. She drove with a heavy heart that didn’t have anything to do with Jamie.

  Returning to the empty house on Lilac Court had a magnetic effect on Kira. All the emotions she thought she’d processed, but lingered in the shadowy corners, under the beds, and in the closets of the big lonely house, found their way back to her as she crossed the threshold. Kira tried to hold in her feelings as she had that night at the hospital; she tried to summon the peaceful feeling she’d cultivated in Africa, but sadness and grief poured out of her in a torrent.

  Without unpacking, Kira crept to bed, and stayed there only to emerge the following day to go work.

  The week passed as Kira slunk into depression. Like a robot capable of tears, she managed to get to the office, and then she returned home and cried. She regressed into an emotional wreck, only this time even worse because her tears were unwelcome and not understood.

  The only interruption to this pattern occurred when the real estate agent called to announce she secured a buyer for the condominium in Boston. More time passed leaving Kira like a fish out of water, not comfortable in her own skin. Slight relief arrived when she signed the final papers for the sale of the condo. For a few days, she felt lighter, like she'd shed a burden. Then she returned to her despondent routine, slogged through files and reports at work, returned to Lilac Court, and cried her way through nearly sleepless nights.

  Hopelessness darkened her days until her sister called to let her know she’d had the baby, another girl at nine pounds, nineteen inches, named Viva. Live. On a late spring day, Kira drove to Connecticut to visit Winter and her growing family.

  “You look terrible. It’s nearly summer Summer, get some sunshine. Why are you wearing your eyeglasses, you look like a mom with five kids who hasn’t had a chance to take a shower in a week, and I’m pretty sure that’s not the look you’re going for.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” Kira asked looking at her sister with frizzy hair and the baby in her arms.

  “Well no, but it’s the point. It doesn’t look like you’re taking care of yourself.”

  “I’ve lost too many pairs of contacts from crying.”

  Winter l
ooked at Kira imploringly. “You look skinny.”

  She was right, but the topic held particular sensitivity because of their father. When he became sick, he refused medical care, growing painfully thin. His long brown hair, like Kira’s, became scraggly and sparse. He likened himself to an old bear; he just wanted to go out to the woods to return to Mother Nature peacefully.

  “I’m not sick and I’m not hopeless, not yet,” Kira shot back. Although the magic of Africa had worn off, she’d developed the habit of speaking honestly. The days of polite and withholding Kira were gone. Africa, or maybe the confrontation with Jamie, had awoken part of her who had the strength to speak her mind. She wasn’t afraid of her voice anymore, but still hadn’t figured out how to articulate her sadness.

  Winter’s eyes filled with tears.

  “Summer, don’t upset your sister, she’s postpartum. This is a tender time,” Acacia said.

  “I wasn’t meaning to. But she and I dance around the topic of our parents as if they’re infectious, like if we talk about them the pain will overwhelm us, possibly even kill us. I’ve been overwhelmed by pain and you know what, the only way through it, is through it.”

  Kira told Winter about the drum circle, opening the doorway to an honest conversation. Through two baby feedings, the sisters discussed their parents, life on the commune, and they wept and laughed in equal measure.

  “I wonder how I’m going to mess this munchkin up?” Winter asked gazing lovingly at Viva.

  “You won’t mess her up, you’ll just impart upon her—” Kira paused, thinking for the right word. “Riddles.”

  Winter grinned. “Yeah, riddles she’ll have to decipher, emotional mysteries that’ll take half her adult life to decode,” Winter said picking up Kira’s meaning as she rubbed her daughter’s tiny nose with her own.

  Kira shook her head. “I don’t think it’ll be that bad, maybe just a quarter of her adult life.” They laughed and Kira knew her relationship with her sister would be okay.

  When she drove back toward Boston, again she felt lighter. Seeing the new baby, Viva, and having a heart-to-heart with Winter, buoyed her. Kira replayed parts of the conversation and the insights they offered each other.

  As Kira walked through of her house, she spun back into a sobbing wreck, and resumed her work, cry, work routine. She felt herself slipping away on a river of tears and loneliness.

  One night, as Kira walked past Jeremy’s office, she stood in the doorway looking at the near empty space. It was like he still occupied the room. Kira stormed in, grabbed the wooden desk by the edge, and started to drag it to the door. She struggled, lowering it down the stairs, not caring that she nicked the wall. She continued through the front door, out to the lawn. This followed with the empty filing cabinet, his reading lamp, leather chair, and miscellaneous items from the garage that screamed Jeremy Annandale. She brought out rowing gear and golf clubs. She scribbled a sign that read, Tag Sale, ready to sell everything for bottom dollar.

  Kira lugged things up from the basement. She scoured the shelves, arranging knickknacks, and engagement and bridal shower gifts on folding tables. She wanted it all gone. By the time the sun rose in the sky, more than half the house was empty. She’d stickered and tagged dishware, linens, gifts from the wedding, and more.

  Sinking into a lawn chair, Kira watched old ladies and hip couples pick through her memories. All that stuff represented pain and loss, burying her beneath its weight. By the late afternoon, nearly everything had sold. A young kid asked Kira about some tennis rackets and neon green balls.

  “You can have them, all yours,” she said dismissively.

  “Alright,” he cheered. He called to his brother, running down the sidewalk, “Scored a new racket. First day of summer tomorrow. I’m gonna cream you!”

  Kira gave the rest away, not wanting to bring anything back inside, including herself. She straightened the crumbled bills, planning to offer it to the local animal shelter, thinking back to Woody and the wild dogs in Africa.

  Kira cleaned up the yard, the little boy’s words about it being summer the next day reminded her the following day was her birthday.

  Without giving herself a chance to change her mind, Kira grabbed a bathing suit and towel, a blanket, some clothes, and a toothbrush, along with food and water.

  She drove to the shore and kept checking to make sure she wasn’t going crazy. She knew a lack of sleep could do that. What she had in mind, to be sure, was a wacky plan, not even a plan according to her usual standards. And nothing about it spelled Kira. However, it was all she had. She couldn’t bear to spend another sleepless night in the house on Lilac Court.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  When Kira arrived at the ocean that evening, the rising moon reflected off the peaceful water like a mirror. She walked to the edge of the shore and waded in.

  The salty air, the lapping around her ankles, the soothing breath of the waves in and out brought her back to herself. Kira felt the lightness from Africa return and the energy of new life when she met her niece, Viva. She looked up at the stars, beckoning them to guide her forward.

  “Happy birthday,” she said. Her breath deepened, and she rubbed her eyes. She walked back to the Mercedes, and grabbed a pillow and blanket, then spread it out on the sand. She lay down, and the next thing she knew, the dawning sun warmed her skin.

  Refreshed, Kira looked to the wall for Ian, hoping they could restore their easy friendship. Just the gull perched on its spindly orange legs with feathers ruffling backwards in the light breeze. The gull gave Kira a quick sideways look and then flew away.

  She walked over to the Boardroom. The owner, Andy, typed on the laptop behind the counter.

  “Hi, I’d like to buy a board,” Kira said interrupting him.

  “Sure, what are you looking for?” Kira went on to describe her ability and interests, and Andy matched her up with a few choices. She looked over her shoulder every few minutes hoping to see either Ian or even Jamie. She wanted to see someone who knew her, someone who believed in her, because after all those weeks since she’d returned from Africa she hardly knew herself, until she’d arrived at the beach the night before. Then she knew exactly who she was, and seeing one of them would confirm that she could be sure of herself again.

  When Kira selected an aquamarine board and went to pay, she spotted Vanessa getting out of her Honda Supra. Kira looked for Ian, but another girl, with wavy brown hair and wearing a half-shirt, accompanied Vanessa. They glanced in Kira’s direction when they entered. Vanessa whispered something to her friend as they walked toward the cafe. Kira grimaced, but Andy grabbed her attention.

  “Great idea, getting a new board on the first day of summer,” he said after she signed the receipt.

  “Best idea I could come up with. Birthday present.” Kira was about to inquire if Ian or Jamie were around, but another customer asked for help renting a paddleboard.

  Kira toted her new board out to the water, and put on her wetsuit, still needing the extra layer in the Atlantic. Paddling out, there weren’t too many people in the lineup. It was, by her estimation, the perfect day. The air was warm, the sky blue, and the waves were glassy. She surfed until her arms turned to noodles.

  Later, Kira lay in the sand letting the sunshine burn through to her heart, letting it shine light where it felt shadowy, so she could bring herself to get back up and go on with the next day.

  Surfing on the weekend, along with some early mornings she snuck in before work, acted like an elixir, renewing her for the days ahead and the nights spent crying herself to sleep in the oppressive house, the sadness there, unescapable.

  ***

  The weekend of the fourth-of-July arrived carrying Kira to Nicole and Nate’s party in Manhattan. They hosted on the roof of their apartment with a catered barbecue including all the fixings. The sparkly decorations, red, white, and blue lights, triangular flags blowing in the soft breeze, and a tastefully coordinated patriotic theme lended a festive, but discrete at
mosphere for the real purpose of the party.

  Conspicuously, Nicole remained in a chair throughout the meal saying she’d hurt her back moving the tables up to the roof. After they finished at the barbeque buffet, Nate appeared with a large cake topped with sizzling sparklers. He held it in front of Nicole as she announced, “We invited all of you here tonight to celebrate freedom and independence, spend time with friends and family, but also to share our good news.” Nicole looked to Nate.

  “We’re having a baby,” they said together. Everyone erupted into cheers and Nicole absolutely glowed. Kira heard several, I knew it-s, and that’s why she has that look about her. The congratulations faded as fireworks appeared in the nearby sky, showering everyone with light and hope.

  Kira spent the night at Nicole’s anticipating some girl time with her the morning after the party. They had mere minutes together in the bathroom because Nate’s parents and sister also stayed in the tiny apartment, and understandably occupying much of Nicole’s attention with their excitement at the new addition to their family.

  “Are you okay?” Nicole asked. Kira shrugged her shoulders. “You seemed in a better place when you returned from your trip.”

  “I think I was. I don’t know. It’s like Jeremy’s haunting my house.”

  “Maybe he is.”

  Kira looked at her friend with alarm.

  “I don’t mean actually. I mean haunting it in a way. You’re intuitive Kira, if you have even the slightest feeling that some tie to him remains in that space, then I’m sure it does.

  “It’s like I can’t get away from him, it’s keeping me up at night.” Kira looked in the vanity mirror. “There’s only one way I’d get bags this big,” she said, pointing.

  Nicole pulled Kira into a hug. Kira felt Nicole’s protruding belly against her own; life goes on.

  “Do you want to stay here a while? Visit the city? After I get home from work we could see a show, eat at some great spots Nate and I’ve found, there’s an Italian place I know you’d adore—”