“I really wish he wouldn’t go out so far,” Olivia said. “He has no fear sometimes. It’s so worrying.”
“He knows better than to swim alone,” Gladys said. She always tried to set Olivia’s mind at ease. “He told me he couldn’t go into the water without an adult. For an eight-year-old, that’s pretty responsible.”
“That’s good. I just don’t want him to misread the distance from shore and get too far out. He’s never lived near the ocean before.”
“You’re a good mom.” Gladys didn’t say it, but Callie had been around her enough to know what she meant by the silence that followed. Gladys always supported Olivia, helping her in any way she could after Wyatt’s dad left. Olivia had worried aloud on occasion that Wyatt would grow up without any male role models. It bothered her. How much easier it would be to have a man in his life that could take him out to the beach, swim out with him, lift him up if a wave toppled him over, toss him in the air and play with him.
Over the years, Olivia had been honest about it, but she never wanted any pity, so she didn’t let on that she needed anything. But Gladys was always right there. She’d told Olivia not to hide the past from Wyatt, and to answer any questions he might have because, as Gladys always said, “The truth will set you free.”
“It’s nice having her so close,” Olivia admitted, once Gladys had gone outside. “It’ll be good for Wyatt to have family nearby with the two of us working all the time. Luke being around is helping too. He’s good with kids.”
Callie nodded. “Things will settle down. We’ve had a lot to do with the house and once we get into the swing of things, it should get easier. But you’re right. Having Gladys here does help. And whenever she came to visit us, I missed her every time she left.” Callie smiled at the memory.
Callie got Luke another beer, the empty pizza box still on the table outside between their plates. She gathered them up to take them into the house, but Luke asked her to leave them. She set it all down in a pile at the end of the table. Olivia had taken Wyatt in for a bath and bedtime, and the rain still hadn’t materialized, so they’d stayed outside, lit a candle, and continued talking.
“It’s humid,” Callie said, tilting her head back to feel the wind on her face. “It reminds me of one night when I was young. I’d gotten a telescope for my birthday and I’d waited until well past my bedtime for it to get dark so I could see the stars and the moon. Mom had called me inside a couple of times, but I only barely heard her, completely transfixed on that telescope.”
Luke was leaning on his elbow, his hand in his chin, those eyes alight with interest.
“I’d focused in on a beautiful crater on the moon when I heard her swishing through the grass.” She could still remember: The only light was the small porch light that was swarming with insects, the air breezy as it was now. “When I heard her coming, I braced myself because it finally registered that she’d been calling me and I thought she was going to be really angry. But she wasn’t. She was smiling. She came up behind me and pulled my hair off my neck before speaking into my ear. ‘What do you see?’ she asked.”
Luke was smiling as if a thought had just occurred to him, and it took her out of the story. “What?” she asked.
“I’m imagining what your mother saw,” he said. “She probably looked out of the window and watched you tinkering with the telescope, all serious and engrossed. I saw that same face when you were painting. That’s why she didn’t get mad. I’ll bet she could tell you weren’t ignoring her.”
With a punch of nostalgia, Callie said, “You’re probably right. I’d never really thought about it until now. I just remember that smile and I feel so lucky to have that memory. She didn’t smile a whole lot after my dad left, and I tried not to forget what it looked like. I showed her the moon and we stayed outside for ages that night looking at the stars, taking our time. I can’t remember a lot of what I saw through that lens—it was so long ago—but I can still remember her smile.”
“That’s a great story,” he said.
A lull of silence fell between them as the sea roared. “The ocean looks rough tonight,” Callie finally said, turning toward it. She held her beer but didn’t drink it, worried that she’d had just enough to make her a bit too honest, and that after spending this evening with him, she might let him know how great she thought he was.
“It’s perfect for surfing,” he said, the fire from the candle dancing in his eyes. The air was thick with heat, the sky black, without a hint of light; the clouds were rolling in. He took a drink of his beer and set it on the table, those blue eyes now on her. “Have you ever been surfing?”
Callie shook her head, her attention again on the ocean, unable to look into his eyes for fear she’d feel that familiar buzz of excitement. She knew better than to allow herself to feel that way because she’d only get hurt. But then she turned toward him, thinking how, if this were all a game for him, just a chase, he certainly was a good actor. She didn’t want to think about how much experience he’d had courting ladies.
“I’d love to take you surfing. What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Well, if we’re going to go to your nephew’s birthday party, I’ll be shopping for a present and something to wear,” she said, steering the topic of conversation elsewhere.
There was a crack and then boom, startling them both. Only then did she notice dark thunderheads above them, hidden by the blackness of night. The sea roared angrily with disapproval.
After that, it got eerily quiet, the sound of the waves the only noise. And then there were a few taps on the table around them. Callie stood up, gathering the trash and empty plates, and Luke blew out the candle, as the raindrops started falling faster, getting them wet.
“Quick! Grab those beach towels!” she said, laughing despite the rush, as she pointed to the towels that Olivia had hung over a few chairs to dry after Wyatt had been out swimming. She threw the pizza box in the outside bin, abandoning the plates so she could make a run for it. The taps were followed by a beating rain that made Callie feel like she was inside one of the rain sticks she’d played with as a kid.
With a quick swipe, Luke grabbed the towels, throwing them over his arm.
They ran up to the back door.