“It’s more stable than I thought it would be,” he remarked.
“Now when you turn, you can either paddle forward for a wide, slow turn, or you can paddle backward for a tighter turn.” She demonstrated the first, then the second, rotating in place, moving a bit farther from shore in the process. “You ready?”
“Let’s go,” he said. Within a few strokes he’d caught up to her, and they began to paddle side by side until they reached the fertile, still waters of the marsh. Above them, the blue sky was limned with thin cirrus clouds. Discreetly, she watched Colin taking in everything, his gaze lingering on the brown pelicans and the snowy egrets, or an osprey that passed overhead. He didn’t seem to feel the need to break the silence, and she thought again that she’d never met anyone like him.
As her thoughts continued to drift, she turned her attention to the island, noting the gnarled remnants of tree stumps, gray and salt-coated, their roots twisting like frayed yarn on a loosely twined ball. Curving pathways cut through the saw-grass-speckled dunes, shortcuts to the ocean side of the island, and driftwood, stained black from the marsh, collected at the water’s edge.
“You’re thinking about something,” she heard him say. Without her noticing it, Colin had moved his board closer to hers.
“Just how much I love being out here.”
“Do you come out every weekend?”
“Most weekends,” she said, keeping her strokes steady. “Unless it’s raining or the wind is gusting. Strong winds make it feel like you’re not getting anywhere, and the water can get kind of choppy. I made that mistake once when I brought Serena out here. She lasted about twenty minutes before she insisted on heading back, and she hasn’t come out ever since. When it comes to the ocean, she’s more of the lay-out-in-the-sun or relax-in-the-back-of-the-boat type of girl. Even though we’re close, we’re not that much alike.”
The curiosity in the way he watched and listened urged her on, and Maria drew her paddle through the water. “Serena has always been more outgoing and popular than I ever was. She’s had one boyfriend after the next and has a zillion friends. Her phone never stops ringing, people always want to spend time with her. It wasn’t like that for me. I was always quieter, shyer I guess, and I grew up feeling like I never really fit in.”
“You don’t seem shy to me.”
“No?” she asked. “How do I seem to you?”
He cocked his head. “Thoughtful. Intelligent. Empathetic. Beautiful.”
The certainty with which he spoke – like he’d reviewed the list beforehand – made her feel suddenly self-conscious. “Thank you,” she murmured. “That was… sweet.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard it before.”
“Not really.”
“Then you’re hanging out with the wrong people.”
She adjusted her feet on the board, trying to mask how flattered and flustered she felt. “So no girlfriend for you?”
“No,” he answered. “I wasn’t really boyfriend material for a while there, and lately I’ve been pretty busy. You?”
“Still single,” she said. “I had a serious boyfriend when I was in college, but it didn’t work out. And lately I’ve had a tendency to attract the wrong kind of men.”
“Like me?”
She gave a sheepish grin. “I wasn’t thinking of you when I said that. I was thinking about the managing partner at my firm. Who happens to be married and has a family. He’s been hitting on me and it’s been making work pretty stressful.”
“I can imagine.”
“But you don’t have any advice for me, right? Since you don’t give advice?”
“No.”
“You do realize that having a conversation with you takes some getting used to, right? Serena, for instance, always has loads of advice.”
“Is it helpful?”
“Not really.”
His expression said she’d just proved his point. “What happened with your boyfriend?”