Kira let the plump burrito cool. When she took the first bite, the flavors of chilies, cilantro, and cumin merged with the veggies, beans, and rice.
“This is delicious,” Kira said.
As they ate the burritos, pico de gallo, and guacamole, they chatted easily about everything and nothing at all. Afterward they each had a Corona with lime out on the deck. Later, while Kira helped clean up, Ian tossed sudsy bubbles at her, and she whacked him with the dishtowel. When he went to grab it, their bare arms brushed. They both became still, their eyes meeting. Kira’s heart beat rapidly and then she took a deep breath, breaking the spell.
Ian asked, “Want to take a walk?”
She didn’t want the night to end so a walk provided a perfect way to extend it. She hoped if they just kept walking, talking, walking, and talking it wouldn’t have to. When they descended onto the beach, Ian reached for Kira’s hand. His fit around hers perfectly, warm and solid at the same time. Again, her heart pattered more quickly in her chest. They walked barefoot in the sand, the air still and salty.
“You know, when we met, I hadn’t been to the ocean in years.”
“I had that sense when you first dipped your toes in,” Ian said, unable to suppress a smile.
“It scared me. It’s so wild at times. For most of my life, I was going for controlled and orderly. Pretty much the opposite of windy, sandy, and wet.”
Ian laughed.
She gave him a sideways look.
“I’m not laughing at you. Honest. It just amazes me how people can change. Sometimes we think everything is the way it is, and then we surprise ourselves when we discover we can do or think something different.”
After a while, they turned back toward Ian’s place, still walking hand in hand. They passed the cottage to his truck. As they drove back to Kira’s Mercedes, she took a careful look at him, wanting to memorize his image and take it home with her, comfort for the tears that she anticipated would flow when she returned to Lilac Court.
When Kira got out of the truck, Ian came around to the passenger side.
“I don’t want this night to be over,” he said, as usual, not afraid to speak his heart.
“Me neither. Are you surfing tomorrow?”
“Every day.”
“Then I’ll see you in the morning.” He leaned in and gave Kira a gentle kiss on the lips. She melted; unsure her legs would continue to support her. Breathless, she leaned in for another and then floated over to her car. She bit her lip, hesitating, tasting him in her mouth. She wanted to go back and throw herself into his arms. But, she told herself she’d see him in the morning.
Chapter Twenty-Six
As Kira drove home, the familiar anxiety of the night to come, alone in the cold house, plagued her.
After idling in the driveway for nearly fifteen minutes, she forced herself to the door. The crushing and haunting desperation besieged her as she entered, leaving her feeling worse than ever.
She took a long warm shower, dried her hair, and put on her glasses. Grabbing a magazine, hoping a distraction would stem the tears, she heard a knock. Startled, Kira turned on the light. It came again, a light rapping. She remembered Nicole arriving unannounced a couple months ago, but she would have called or texted at that late hour. Kira flipped on the porch light at the foot of the stairs, the silhouette of a tall figure shown through the glass of the front door.
“Kira?” a familiar voice called.
She unbolted the lock, and this time threw herself into Ian’s arms. He hugged her tight.
“I hope this isn’t weird.”
“No, not weird, not at all,” she said her face muffled in the folds of his sweatshirt, trying hard not to cry out of sheer relief.
“When you drove away, it felt wrong. I wanted to be with you, for the night to go on. I want you Kira,” he said softly into her hair, holding her with the promise not to let go.
After she allayed the first wave of tears that threatened, a second tried to make their way to her eyes, tears of gratitude this time, but she fought them off as the connection between them fused, warming her with desire.
“I went home, and it felt so empty without you there. I tried reading and writing, zoning out to a surf vid, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I tried calling first, but didn’t get an answer.”
“I left my phone in the car,” Kira said, remembering.
“Is this okay?” he asked. “You’re quiet.”
Kira nodded in the dim light.
“Aw, you look cute in your glasses,” he said referring to her Elizabeth and James hombre frames. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Kira nodded yes and then shook her head no. “I never ever wanted to cry in front of you like this,” Kira whimpered as tears escaped from her eyes. “I wanted you to think I’m okay. To be the me I was all day at the beach and at your house. To be normal.”
“You are okay. Just be you. What’s up?” he said gently, confused.
She feared he wondered if he’d just made a mistake and entered the house of a crazy person. They settled on the couch.
“You know how some people sleep at night?” she asked. “Well, I cry.” And another wave washed over her. “It’s just here when I’m inside this house, alone,” she said exasperated. “I’m sorry. I never wanted you to see me like this. I can’t explain it. I just cry.”
“Kira.” He took a deep breath and reached out for her. “I want to see you all ways. Teary, cranky, tired.” Ian pulled her into a hug. “I want to see you frustrated and angry. I want to see you laughing and smiling. Just you. Always.” His strong arms around her provided a confirmation. His words, an affirmation of everything Kira wanted and needed. She took a deep breath.
“In that case, there’s something I want to tell you, and then maybe never talk about it again. I don’t really like talking about it or thinking about it even. I vowed never to tell anyone, because it’s such a stain on my life. I only wanted you to know the new me, the improved me.”
“Whatever has happened to you is part of who you are. The good and bad stuff, it’s shaped you into the person you are today. And that person, the Kira I know, I happen to like a lot. And I don’t think any amount of crying or whatever went on in your past is going to change that,” Ian said confidently.
Kira drew a breath and began. “When I was in college I met a guy—” She told him the whole story from start to finish. She told him the ugly parts and the humiliating parts.
“I just can’t seem to let go. Whenever I enter this house, all I can think about is Jeremy. How he hurt me. How maybe I could have prevented it all and had a happy marriage. I think about the women he was with, and it just keeps going over and over in my mind, the same thoughts. It’s driving me mad.” The entire time Ian listened attentively. He asked a few questions, but mostly remained quiet as he held her hand.
“You’re so brave. It doesn’t change a thing other than it breaks my heart to know someone treated you so poorly. But there’s nothing you could have done to change him. Or had the marriage you’d hoped for. You’re a smart woman, you must see that?”
She did, but it was as if an invisible thread held her to the spot.
Ian continued, “Maybe when you’re here in this house, you revert. And you temporarily forget all the growing and changing you’ve done, pulling you back into believing you should be someone else or the person Jeremy wanted you to be in the relationship. But because you’re not that person, you find yourself in a confusing conflict causing you to suffer.”
Kira wiped her eyes.
Ian continued. “If having the picture perfect house in the suburbs isn’t who you are any more, it’s okay to move on. You’re not going to disappoint anyone, at least not anyone who’s worth their salt. No point in trying to force it,” he followed up. “Just be you, do what makes you happy.”
What Ian said sounded sensible. It rang true. Still something dense and stubborn shielded Kira’s logic.
“When I’m at work or
the beach I’m fine, and then I walk through this door and fall apart.”
“Have you considered selling?”
“Well, I got rid of all his things. I had a tag sale.”
“No, I mean selling the house. Moving.”
“Where?”
“Moving anywhere, moving on.”
As if a light bulb in her heart suddenly illuminated the cavern of her mind, she knew moving was the answer. Hearing Ian say it is okay to move on, to let go of something that no longer served the person she’d become, was like giving her the match to a candle she desperately wanted to light. It also corroborated with Nicole’s suggestion, though Manhattan wasn’t the place for her.
“Sometimes taking that last step away from what’s familiar is the hardest,” Ian said. “My dog died a few weeks ago.”
Kira tilted her head in sympathy.
“Don’t worry I’m not likening your situation to that, but she was a sweetie. She was actually my ex-girlfriend’s dog. She left several years ago, with, yes, you guessed it, some other dude. She left Macy with me. At first, I was hurt by the breakup, and Macy was a constant reminder of Rachel. She’d follow me around, probably wondering when Rachel would be back. She was always at my heels. Over time, as my emotions shifted from sadness to anger at Rachel, I’d get annoyed by Macy always being there. I actually brought her to an animal shelter, just so I wouldn’t think about my ex every time I looked at the dog, but at the last moment, I couldn’t bring myself to go in. I probably would have gone home with two dogs. I wasn’t angry at the Macy, I realized later, but at the reminder of Rachel and her irresponsibility, insensitivity, generally her all around not being good to Macy or me. Lucky for Macy I love dogs. Eventually, I just saw her for what she was, my best friend, surf buddy, and I let go of the old connotations with Rachel. But this house is just a house. It’s not a living, breathing being. You can’t have been there very long.”
Kira shook her head. “No, just since last fall.”
“No guilt in selling. Maybe in some ways it’s an oppressive reminder that you were done wrong and it’s you locked in that mindset. Or maybe it’s just haunted.”
Laughter cut through Kira’s tears, inching toward understanding what Ian meant. “Even though Jeremy and I didn’t create many memories here together, the walls contain my own recent memories of loneliness, betrayal, and loss, what came at the end and after the relationship. I’ve accepted what he did and that he died. I could say I’ve let go of him, but not of the emotions that resulted from all of that. It’s hard to wrap my head around.” Kira shifted on the coach, their knees touched.
“Slowly, piece by piece, it’s starting to make sense. Maybe moving on is the final step, and instead of clinging to the old plan, maybe I can allow a new life unfold.” It was almost as if the words were born in her mouth, registering as truth so suddenly she felt a seismic shift, a movement toward freedom as she spoke them.
With that effort, Kira’s eyes suddenly felt heavy.
“Getting tired?” Ian took off his hat and ran his fingers through his short hair.
“Possibly,” she said still not wanting the night to end.
He tossed the cushions off the couch, kicked off his flip-flops, and started to recline.
“I didn’t scare you off? You’re not leaving?” she asked with surprise.
“Kira, I’ll never leave you, not unless you want me to,” he said softly, and pulled her alongside him.
He took Kira’s glasses off, brushed a few stray hairs out of her face, then kissed her forehead, her nose, cheeks, and then settled softly on her lips. Kira drank in his gentleness of certainty and contentment. Then he closed his eyes.
Despite Ian’s presence, Kira didn’t sleep much, but enjoyed the soft hum of Ian’s breathing. She studied his fingers as they interlaced with hers resting upon his chest. When the framed bit of sky in the living room window started to lighten, Ian gave Kira a squeeze, smiled, and then stretched.
“Good morning, surfer girl,” he said his voice gruff from sleep. “Sleep much?”
“No, but I didn’t cry, that’s something.”
“Can we talk surfer to surfer?”
Kira put her glasses on and nodded.
He smiled. “Damn you’re cute. You’re beautiful with them off and cute with them on.”
She blushed. “As you were saying?”
“I don’t believe in ghosts, strictly speaking, but I had weird dreams, not my usual watery surfing dreams. Maybe this house is haunted,” he said facetiously.
She whacked him with a pillow. “Don’t say that, I have to live here until it sells.”
“No you don’t.”
“Where else am I supposed to go? Heart broken and homeless sounds like a bad country song.”
“Not heart broken and not homeless. With me. I never want to be without you, babe.” He planted a kiss on her lips, and she kissed him back, a long, slow kiss that landed her at the first time she saw his dimpled smile, a kiss to make up for the last few months.
“Are you sure you want to live with crazy ‘ole me?”
“Not crazy. Beautiful, intelligent, very organized,” he said looking around. “Now I get what you were saying about the Boardroom. You are indeed Martha Stewart’s protégé.”
“Yeah well, that’s another story. I was born in an ashram, but grew up on a commune, and might have some control issues.”
“You couldn’t make this stuff up, could you?” he said astounded. “I hope the next story you have to tell is happy and has an us in it.”
“Now that sounds perfect. I look forward to seeing how it turns out. But hey, I thought we were talking surfer to surfer?”
“We are,” he said grinning widely.
“Well then, come on, we’d better get going.” Kira quickly washed up, slathered on sunscreen, and they drove to the beach, leaving behind the Mercedes.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
In the late afternoon, after Ian’s last lesson, Kira waited at the Boardroom, indulging in a giant butterscotch-chip cookie from the café. Off the back deck, the sun made the sand burn golden in its light. Ian wrapped his arms around her, his wetsuit pulled down to his waist.
“Wanna do something goofy?” he asked.
“Goofy?” She thought of the time he shoved her in the sand to determine her dominant foot. “As in goofyfoot?”
He shook his head and then nodded laughing.
“Sorta. You know how I said I shape boards? I have a little project in mind. Come on I’ll show you one.”
They returned to his cottage. Among the surfboards that lined his hall, he showed Kira a white one with flecks of gold that sparkled in the light. In large script, written along the underside were the words Golden State of Mind.
“This is amazing,” Kira said impressed.
“Just a hobby. Sorta. But I’ve been thinking of funny promos I could post on my website and Facebook, something to make my friends and customers laugh.”
“I’m in,” Kira said curiously.
He grabbed a trucker’s hat that had the word Golden State of Mind written in metallic gold letters. “You wear this,” he said putting it on her head. “We’ll put your hair in pigtails, and then you’ll be magically transformed into Goldilocks. As in the three bears. Or in our case, the three boards.”
Kira laughed; his plan so far was goofy. “But I have brown hair.”
“You’re golden,” he said smiling. “I was thinking we’d get shots of you first trying out a board that’s too hard, then one that’s too soft, and then this one,” he tapped his board. “This is just right.”
“Hilarious,” she said laughing some more.
“I thought of having Jamie do it, the blond hair, and all, but—” He scrunched up his nose. “You’re way hotter.”
“There’s a gold bikini I saw a while ago at the shop. I’m not sure if they have my size or if it’s even still there, but that would look pretty good,” Kira suggested consenting to be his model.
> Ian’s eyes lit up. “Let’s do it.”
Luckily, one gold bikini remained on the rack at the Boardroom, and Kira snatched it up. They gathered an old piece of driftwood that was the approximate size of a surfboard and dragged Ian’s mattress outside. He took shots of her unhappy with each of the two, too hard for the driftwood and too soft for the mattress, until she discovered the Golden State of Mind surfboard. It was just right.
When Ian got the photos he wanted, they dusted the sand off his mattress and replaced it on the bed frame. As Kira turned to leave the bedroom, he pulled on one of the gold bikini top strings. As she felt it unravel, Ian pulled her into his arms. She let the top slip away as he kissed her bare chest. He ran his hands down her sides as she tossed his shirt to the floor. He pulled her toward him as they fell back on the bed, the heat building between their skin.
She’d never felt so completely perfect with someone. It was just right. As their lips moved in-sync with one another, she felt an abundance of passionate desire and something else. Something her heart hinted at, but wasn’t ready to fully reveal.
That evening, Ian and Kira ate dinner at a restaurant right on the water, with flickering candles and the rush of waves on the breeze for background music. Afterward, they shared an ice cream as they walked along the beach.
“Now what?” Kira asked absently.
“Now—” Ian started to say, and then paused to think. “We weigh options. You have work in the morning, right? We could stay here at my place, take a dawnie, and then I could bring you to your house to get your car. Would you be able to make it to your office in time? Or we could go back to your place, perform a séance, and drive the spooks away.”
“Let’s try the first one,” Kira said smiling inside and out.
“Option one it is. But I have to admit I don’t have any of that fine lavender soap you had in your bathroom. Apologies.”
“Not to worry. I can make do with Ivory.”
“Dr. Bronner’s,” Ian corrected.
“Hippie.”
To the Sea (Follow your Bliss) Page 19
