Wyatt smiled at this, and she pressed the paper onto the nail, making a small hole in the top of the drawing. She liked the look of it, rustic on the wood plank.
She walked past him and lay down on the pile of blankets and pillows he now kept there just for this reason. Wyatt lay next to her and took her in his arms. “I really do love you, Sam.”
Sam rolled on top of him. “I love you too. No question.” She kissed him and luxuriated in the feel of the full length of her body on his. She pulled off his shirt and then hers. She was still in her bikini and watched his face as he slowly pulled on the red string around her neck and then the one at her back. She tossed it away and then bent down to him, letting the feeling of her bare chest on his move throughout her body. He kissed her, and she shivered.
He ran his fingers along her spine.
“Tell me again,” she said into his neck.
“I love you.”
“Tell me all the time, okay?”
“Promise,” he said. He kissed her again and moved on top of her. He ran his hands down the sides of her body. She immediately wrapped her legs around his to keep him there. She was astonished by how much she wanted this.
Sam looped her thumbs under the elastic of Wyatt’s shorts and started to pull them down. He caught her hands in his and gathered them to his chest. “Sam, what are we doing here?”
“I want to,” she said.
“Are you sure?”
“This is my surest thing.”
Looking back, Sam could think of nothing more natural than the two of them losing their virginity that night. There was no pretense of experience. There was no awkwardness about the hopeful box of condoms he’d stashed in his guitar case. Wyatt was like the ocean, and her body knew exactly what to do. As they lay there afterward in the moonlight, Wyatt whispered, “Sam, I am,” and she thought she knew what he meant.
21
Wyatt
Wyatt thought a lot about how happy he was. He’d thought about being happy before, but it was usually in retrospect. This state of being happy and knowing it right in the moment was fascinating to him. He was going to spend the rest of his life this way: happy, with Sam.
“I have a surprise,” Wyatt said, waiting outside the library.
Sam threw her arms around him and kissed him, right there with Mrs. Barton looking out the window. “Tell me.”
“I love you.”
Sam laughed. “No. The surprise.”
“I stopped and changed Mr. Cameron’s flat tire on my way to work today, because I’m a local hero, obviously.”
“I am not surprised.” She kissed him again. “So?”
“He’s given me his boat for the day. It’s small, just a two-seater, but why would we need more seats? We’re going to Starfish Beach.”
Sam threw her arms around him again. “Can we go now?”
“Yep. I even brought lunch.”
They set off from the Camerons’ dock on the canal and rode out into the open ocean. They rode past the stretch of their own beach, where their homes looked so cozy together. The engine was too loud for them to hear each other talk, but he loved looking over and seeing Sam smile into the ocean air.
Starfish Beach was a small stretch of sand and dunes that you could only access by boat or on foot. Mr. Cameron had told him exactly how to get there and how to tie up the boat. Wyatt unpacked a blanket, towels, and a bag of sandwiches and helped Sam off the boat. “I love what you’ve done with your hair.”
She laughed and nudged him and tried to braid the whole mess.
They found the beach completely deserted. No one was using the picnic tables, but they decided to eat on the beach. They laid their towels on the sand and unwrapped their sandwiches.
“This is the nicest surprise I’ve ever had,” Sam said, wiping mustard from her mouth.
“You are,” he said.
“Have you always been so romantic? I don’t remember this from when you were twelve.”
“It’s happened just recently,” he said, and pulled her down to lie next to him. He closed his eyes and listened to the waves breaking just beyond the bluff. He felt the weight of Sam’s head resting on his chest.
“How long do you think this will last?” she asked.
“What kind of a question is that?”
“I don’t know.” She was running her hand from his chest to his stomach in perfect rhythm with the waves. “I mean I can’t imagine not being like this. Like, I don’t want to go back.”
Wyatt moved her hair out of her face so he could look at her. “If you’ve loved someone your whole life, it kind of makes sense that you’d love them forever.”
NOW
22
I am parked in front of the Old Sloop Inn. Jack is in the passenger seat. These are the only things I know for sure. Because I must have imagined—hallucinated even—Jack’s telling me that my dad has invited Wyatt to cruise to Starfish Beach with my family tonight. There is no way.
“Sam. It’s no big deal. Your dad just wanted to thank him for fixing his car.” My hands feel clammy against the steering wheel, but I don’t want to let go. I am clearly not steering anything anymore.
“So all of us, my family and Wyatt, are cruising to Starfish Beach tonight? Were they going to tell me?” I flash on Wyatt and me, lying on Starfish Beach, talking about forever. I was stuck on that after we broke up, trying to reconcile Wyatt’s saying he thought he’d love me forever and then his not, in fact, loving me forever. Dr. Judy helped me understand that when you’re eighteen, you change your mind. Obviously. But I cannot walk through that space with Wyatt there.
“I just told you. It’ll be fine. By the end of the night, things will be so normal. We’re grown-ups, Sam. And so is he.”
I rest my head on the steering wheel. We should have gone back to the city when we had the chance. I cannot explain what happened between Wyatt and me on that beach, because I know it will come out heavy.
He looks up at the inn. “Honestly, this place is a little tired, and all the nautical stuff isn’t really my thing. But let’s look. It’s fun to see your mom so excited.”
I want to start feeling excited.
23
My dad frequently borrows Harold Meyer’s boat. In return, he does Harold’s hedges. We drive to his house on the canal and get ready for our sunset outing. The boat seats eight, which was fine when we were my crew of nine, but now that Wyatt is coming, it’s going to be way too tight. Wyatt arrives with Travis and Hugh. Granny hugs Wyatt, tight. Gracie throws herself at Wyatt, who picks her up and swings her around. How long has this been going on? I wonder. My dad loads two large coolers on board. Travis and Hugh are laden with champagne and plastic cups for the boat ride, and Jack hops off the boat to help them. It’s too much, the weight of it. I worry the boat can’t hold it all.
The ride to Starfish Beach is twenty minutes, but my dad’s cruising slow enough for us to get through the champagne. Of course, we could have driven to any number of other beaches for a picnic, but my dad has no respect for efficiency. Granny Annie’s face is in rapture as it’s hit by the salt air. My mom has a scarf over her head, and I wish I’d thought to do the same. Honestly, I just wish we’d driven to a restaurant. We’d be there by now and my hair would be normal. I never go anywhere without a hair tie, and I am slightly stunned that I’ve chosen today to let this happen. As the wake sprays a delicious mist on my arms, my fingers want to braid, but I won’t allow it. Jack keeps his arm around me as I hold my hair in a ponytail. I think Wyatt is watching us, but I don’t dare look.
We pull up to the dock and my dad kills the engine. The silence fills my ears. For a split second I look at the players on this stage, smiling and windswept, and nothing makes sense. We climb out of the boat and I watch Travis and Wyatt walk down the dock together. Jack wheels both coolers behind him, and I take Gracie’s hand for reassurance.
The picnic tables are right on the beach, and we push two together to accommodate our crew. My mom lays out pink and white tablecloths and plastic plates and cups. She scatters baguettes, cheese, and mounds of prosciutto along the center of the table. When we’re seated, my dad pours rosé. “To the bride and her bridegroom!” he says. And we all clink glasses.
Dinner is cold fried chicken and grilled vegetables, and everything feels surprisingly easy. Wyatt and I are on opposite sides of the long table, separated lengthwise by four bodies.
“So what about you two?” Wyatt asks Travis and Hugh. “Any wedding plans?”
“Sort of,” Travis says.
“Well, we would,” says Hugh, “but it’s not really a good idea tax-wise.” Travis rolls his eyes.