“Yikes. I’ll grab you a towel.” Kira scooted to the bathroom.
“I hear the tropical storm has turned into a hurricane and is coming our way. Man, it’s wicked out there,” Ian called.
This news had her worrying, but the way he said it had her wondering. Surfers, their storms, and the resulting waves were a curious sort. Her instinct was to head to higher, if not drier, ground. “Is that good or bad?” Kira asked as she passed him the towel.
“Good for surfing I suppose, but bad for everything else.”
Kira opened the laptop and found the weather site with a video report. A man in a yellow raincoat stood in the center of the screen as wind and rain pelted him in a way that desperately, though illogically, made Kira want to shout at him to seek shelter. The trees tossed back and forth violently in the background.
“Jim Rosedale here, coming to you live from Charleston. As you can plainly see, we have surpassed tropical storm conditions. I just got word that Hurricane Percy is now a cat 3. Typically as these systems move north, they decrease in intensity, but Percy seems to be defying our projections. The other concern is a low-pressure system moving south from Canada. If these two collide, the result could be dire.”
Another video came on immediately after, a report from a local station. A woman with a light blonde coif and lipstick a shade too red announced that cities and towns south of them preemptively declared a state of emergency. She recommended people in low lying or coastal areas evacuate. Kira closed the laptop.
“Sounds like a super storm.”
“Should we go?” she asked.
“West? We could. But there’s the closing,” Ian said.
“Jeremy just won’t let me go,” she said dismally. “I have to be there if for no other reason than to have closure. I already tried and failed to move the date up.”
“We’ll stick around then. Don’t worry, it’ll be okay,” Ian answered, pulling Kira into a comforting hug.
They kept watch over the weather, while doing their part to help clear store shelves of bottles of water, flashlights and batteries, food, and other provisions. Ian put a piece of plywood over the stained glass mermaid on the door. Along with everyone in the neighborhood, they battened down the hatches taking everything in doors. It was surreal as they watched storefronts close and people retreat to their homes, tucked behind darkened windows leaving an eerie stillness in their wake as the rain drove down.
“Now we wait.” The wind and waves roared as if engaging in battle. “Neptune’s angry,” Ian joked.
The ferocity of the ocean was something Kira had never witnessed, having avoided it for most of her life. As the waves crested at high tide, she feared they’d sweep the cottage away. Ian didn’t seem overly concerned, he just watched as if a spectator at an unusual event.
“This house has seen worse, trust me.” The glass windowpanes rattled as branches and leaves rocketed by, scraping against the shingles. Everything was grey, grey, grey.
“This is the ocean I’ve always feared,” Kira said quietly.
“Percy’s fierce, but it’ll blow out soon enough. You’ll see.”
Then the lights flickered and in a blink, the electricity went out. Kira bundled several blankets around her. Ian built a fire in the small woodstove that sat in the corner of the kitchen, and then joined her on the couch. They played cards in the dim light. As the battleship grey skies darkened, drawing night in, they lit a lantern, and Kira brought out sandwiches she’d prepared earlier along with a bag of chips. She picked at her bread crusts.
“Nervous?” Ian asked.
“Very.”
“We’ll be okay.”
However, Kira’s nervousness had less to do with the storm itself and more to do with what her anxious mind told her it signified. She worried that somehow, from beyond the grave, Jeremy cursed her for running away with his money and another man.
Ian scooted closer to Kira on the couch. “You can’t let this doom and gloom get to you. You’re going to sign those papers and we’ll be out of here and into the sunshine.”
Sometimes it really was as if he could read her thoughts.
Ian picked up his acoustic guitar from the corner and strummed. He settled on a few chords and then cleared his throat. Kira snuggled closer. The song Ian played reminded her of sun and sand, the salt and the sea. It felt like waking up to a new day and a lullaby. When the final notes rang out, Kira smiled wide, her eyes sleepy.
“That was beautiful.”
“I wrote that when I thought I’d lost you. I was sad, but everything about you made me happy.”
“And now you’ve got me.” Their lips met.
“Tired?”
Kira nodded.
They couldn’t see the seas raging in the blackened sky, but the wind had picked up and was deafening as they crawled into bed.
“Do you have any earplugs?” Kira asked.
“Actually, I do have something, hang on.” He rummaged in a closet by the door. Returning moments later, he rubbed a clay-like thick substance between his fingers. “Earwax.”
“Huh?” Kira asked.
Ian laughed. “It’s for surfing in cold water. You put it in your ears to prevent surfer’s ear, damage to your eardrums. I’m softening it. Don’t worry, its unused.”
Kira plugged her ears, muting the roar of the wind. Soon her awareness fell in time with her breath. Ian held her close, and she drifted to sleep.
Kira dreamed of Jeremy following her through an endlessly rainy night. She couldn’t see him, but felt him close behind her, then she’d get ahead and he’d fall behind. Then he’d gain on her again. She was always out of his reach. Nonetheless, his presence, even if no longer in her waking life, filled her dreams with dread.
When Kira woke up, the rain was still falling, but the wind had weakened. If she remembered correctly, the tide would mercifully be out. Kira tilted Ian’s arm and read his watch. It was just after nine a.m. “We slept in,” she mumbled groggily.
“I guess so.”
Pulling the wax from her ears, Kira peered through the curtains to the ravaged beach, eroded sand, and debris strewn along the shore. Ian joined her with the blanket hanging over his shoulders and draped it across hers.
“I think Percy did his worst, but has moved on,” he said.
She couldn’t imagine what the town looked like.
They were without power for over forty-eight hours, as it continued to rain then tapered off to a sprinkle. From the reports, they were actually lucky. Flooding, power-outages, and destruction caused by the wind had left millions in compromised circumstances.
Ian and some friends surfed, but it was too cold for Kira so she watched and improved her photography skills with her favorite subjects, Ian and the ocean.
After not being able to get through to the real estate agent for almost a week because of the storm, Kira finally received a call.
“I’m sorry, we have to postpone. The house sustained some damage from a fallen tree. Nothing major. But it’ll need to be repaired.”
Ian rallied for her. “Let’s get it done,” he said determinedly. He called to get someone to do the repairs, but because there was so much devastation, work crews were weeks out. Because of the delay, they also had to postpone their trip west and reroute their journey because of weather conditions in some of the mountainous areas.
“Why can’t this just end?” she said, feeling thwarted and suddenly desperate to leave again. She didn’t feel free. She felt helpless and beholden, just as she had so many months ago.
Another week passed. Ian found a carpenter, thanks to a friend of a friend scenario, and the closing was set for the latter half of the month. The end was in sight, Kira thought hopefully. In the meantime, she helped friends and neighbors recover from the storm.
Slowly life returned to normal in the wake of the devastation, but Kira struggled with frustration, disappointment, and an aching desire to get on with her life. She felt pulled back into the slump she’d exper
ienced so many months prior.
Then one sunny day, as she and Ian took a stroll along the beach, she realized what bothered her wasn’t Jeremy or sadness and loss at all.
“Impatience and trying to control everything,” she said.
“Huh?”
“That’s what’s bothering me. I snap out of my present experience when I think about the past or future. I’m not patient with time or letting things unfold. It’s not to say I ought to let things just happen, but there’s a skill required to discern between the two.”
“I think you’re on to something,” Ian said. “Let it flow.”
They continued their walk, Kira keenly aware of each footfall, wave, and breath as she stopped dwelling on the past and analyzing and planning the future.
Chapter Thirty-One
Finally, after exercising utmost patience, Ian and Kira packed the Mercedes, boards and all. They left the truck behind for repairs they following summer.
After signing the documents, with great flourish, Kira realized having the satisfaction of doing it in person was worth enduring the storm and the waiting game. She said farewell to the bad memories, the strife, and the heartbreak as they departed, and she let each new moment unfold.
When they pulled up to Winter’s house in Connecticut later that afternoon, her little ones clung to her skirt while she held the baby in her arms.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? You look a heck of a lot better than the last time I saw you. The bags under your eyes are gone. That means you’re sleeping. But you have a new boyfriend so things can’t be great if you’re getting that much rest.”
Kira shook her head at her. “Thanks. And you don’t look as fat as you did last time I saw you.”
Winter pursed her lips. “Post-partum and Girl Scout cookies are a dangerous thing.”
“Honesty. Can’t take it, don’t dish it,” Kira said.
“You don’t have to be mean.”
“And you shouldn’t be teaching your kids to speak that way to their siblings.”
With her free arm, Winter pulled Kira into a hug.
“I missed you, Summer. Glad to have you back.”
With their teasing out of the way and the hug acting like a release valve for the children, one of them tugged on Kira’s arm. “Auntie Summer, come look at our swing set.”
“Yeah, push me first, please.”
Kira skipped with them toward the backyard.
Ian, hands in his pockets, followed, but Winter headed him off. Kira slowed her pace to eavesdrop.
“Now, I’m only going to tell you this once, I may be ample, have nearly a half dozen children, but I’ve pushed most of them out myself, all natural, so I’m a tough chick. Don’t you go messing with my sister’s heart. You hear me?”
Kira continued walking, and they fell out of earshot. She felt sure with or without Winter’s warning, Ian would be good to her.
After a night in the crowded house, followed by a non-traditional Thanksgiving fiesta, with Ian making enchiladas, quesadillas, and guacamole for everyone, they stayed for one more day then got on the road to venture farther south to see Nicole and Nate.
“So Summer—” Ian started.
She knew what was coming.
“Yes, my name is Summer. Hippie parents remember. Born on the solstice and all that. Winter, the same only, duh, winter.”
“That accounts for her harsh demeanor,” he said joking. “I wasn’t going to give you a hard time. But I thought you’d told me everything.”
“Well not everything. Where would the fun in that be?”
“Can I call you Summer?”
“If you wish,” Kira replied with a wink and a grin.
Once in New York, Nicole instantly adored Ian. To the delight of the best friends, the guys also hit it off. Nicole was due in another month; Kira promised to fly out when Nate’s paternity leave ended to help cook, clean, and take care of Nicole and baby July.
After a few days, Kira and Ian left Manhattan, with the surfboards snug in their socks, strapped to the roof, and the back of the Mercedes loaded with clothing, computers, and Kira’s camera equipment.
With the open road before them, Kira made a sound like, “Ohhhh.”
“Hmm?” Ian said, keeping an eye on the traffic.
Inside, there was a sudden lightening of the baggage she carried from her disappointing childhood; a release of the heartbreak and anger caused by Jeremy. Space opened in her chest. From there, a single word, capturing everything she felt about Ian brightened. He interlaced his fingers in hers.
“I think, no, I’m sure, I just let go, fully, completely,” she said softly, a final tear evaporating as it edged its way out of the corner of her eye.
Like the hurricane, after it gave her its worst and she lived through it, it was gone. Poof. The dissatisfaction she’d had with herself, for trying to mold into little miss perfect, along with the illusion of the perfect marriage dried up and vanished.
The troublesome ways she ignored her own inner truths and knowing, her dismay for falling to pieces every time she was in the house on Lilac Court, all of those emotions, in that single tear were gone. It all peeled away and in the center, she discovered the beautiful, shining gem of truth.
“It’s done,” Kira said with finality. She let out a deep breath. She’d let go and moved on to freedom.
They filled the trip across the vast expanse of the US with hiking and sightseeing, loads of photos of just about everything, made love in every state they crossed, and camped. However, after Kira found hairy, giant spiders in the cabin, she reinstated her no camping policy. She couldn’t expect to change everything about herself.
“Next time, no camping and no road food,” Kira said crumpling an empty bag of fries, her stomach queasy.
Somewhere around New Mexico, Kira decided she’d submit some of her prints to a gallery when they’d settled in California. They also discussed the possibility of opening a surf shop of their own.
“Let’s call it Live Free and Surf,” Kira suggested, thinking fondly of Jamie, no longer harboring resentment. “You could sell your boards and there’d be a café. I don’t think I can live without the Boardroom’s muffins and cookies, we’ll have to get the recipes, along with the usual surf gear.” They bounced ideas off each other as they traveled.
“We’ll offer surf lessons and leave the organizing and decorating to you,” Ian said.
As uncounted miles passed beneath their tires, they brainstormed loads of possibilities for the shop. With Kira’s business acumen and generous bank account, she seriously considered pursuing it. But for the time being, simply being with Ian was enough.
They crossed into California on a sunny afternoon. Starving, but still with a distance to travel and in the middle of nowhere, they pulled into what Kira vowed would the last fast food stop, ever.
“Next time we go across, we’re picnicking, stopping at farm stands, food coops, anything but this,” Kira said in protest at the smell of fry oil.
However, they wanted to make it to the coast before it got dark, so they reluctantly pulled into the drive-thru. Ian rolled down the window and placed the order while Kira daydreamed out the window, gazing at a rolling field just beyond the parking lot. Geese peppered the long, tawny grass. She grabbed her camera and angled to get them in the frame, but something moved in a box, discarded, next to the dumpster.
Ian paid for the bag of food and started to pull away.
“Wait, hang on,” she said. “Pull over there. I just want to see something.” Kira got out and cautiously approached the dumpster. A tuft of dark brown fur flashed out of the box. Then a paw clawed at the edge. She peered in. A small brown puppy, all alone, scratched at the sides, trying to get out.
Ian appeared.
“Someone must have left it here. How terrible,” Kira said as he looked around to see if there were any more puppies.
“What are you doing?” he asked when Kira started taking photos.
“Takin
g a picture.”
“Lost puppy signs?”
Kira shook her head as both she and the dog looked at him. Their brown eyes must have worked their magic. “A baby book?” Kira suggested.
“Really?” Ian asked.
“Please?”
He bent over and picked the puppy up. Kira snapped another shot of him cuddling her to his chest.
“Oh, you’re smelly,” he said affectionately rubbing her ears as Kira clicked away.
Kira went inside and asked the kid behind the counter if he knew anything about a puppy by the dumpster, but he looked at her blankly. No one else had a clue.
“She’s ours,” Kira cheerfully announced when she returned to the car. She pulled a towel from one of the bags in the back and wrapped the puppy up in it. “What will we call her?”
“Let’s avoid any fast food connotations,” Ian said, his stomach rumbling in distress. He pulled out of the lot, back to the highway.
“How about Jewel?” Kira suggested recalling the glittering sun dancing on the waves back home.
He tilted his head and nodded. “I like it. Jewel it is,” Ian said agreeing.
When they finally pulled into Sausalito, the streetlights popped on. The houseboat, docked along with others, awaited them in the marina below the parking area. From where Kira stood, they looked like small houses backed right up to the ocean, the docks running like footpaths between them. Christmas lights sparkled on the water as she held Jewel close, Ian leading the way.
“Here we are. Home sweet home.” Ian took Jewel from Kira’s arms and put her inside. “I’m not sure what you think of the whole threshold thing, or marriage for that matter, but I’d love to pick you up and carry you over. But I don’t think that’s our style. So I thought we could just walk in together. Hand in hand. Partners. This is your home now too.”
Warmed by the sentiment and Ian’s propensity for romance, Kira was glad he understood that getting married wasn’t exactly at the top of her agenda. Not that she had one anymore. One thing was for sure, Kira loved Ian like she’d never loved anyone else. For her, that was as good as a ring around her finger.
They walked in the houseboat, their fingers interlaced, with the little puppy nipping at their feet. Kira and Ian settled her down with food, water, and her towel. Ian and Kira collapsed into the bed.
To the Sea (Follow your Bliss) Page 22
