Authors: Debra Doxer
“My sister has opinions,” I respond
without having to think too hard. “No one told her that she isn’t supposed to.”
Ryan laughs. “I hope you put on
sunscreen,” he says. “With your light skin, you’re going to be in trouble
without it.”
“I need to do that.” I check my
phone as I fish in my bag for the sunscreen. There are no messages. I’m debating
trying Katie’s cell phone again, when Ryan pulls his T-shirt up over his head
and tosses it on the sand. I find myself being treated to an up close view of
his taut and tanned top half. Ryan is no weightlifter, but he’s naturally toned
with smoothly defined muscles. My eyes roam over his narrow hips and flat
stomach before moving upward and suddenly clashing with his eyes. Embarrassed,
I quickly swing my gaze back to the inside of my beach bag. I can feel the
flush creeping up my neck to my cheeks. Because I already have the sunscreen in
my hand, I pretend to be looking for something else. Perhaps he’ll think the
heat has turned my face bright red.
After retrieving nothing further
from my bag, I lean forward and self-consciously proceed to remove my tank top.
Still sitting, I then shimmy out of my shorts, excruciatingly aware of Ryan’s
eyes on me during the entire maneuver. I’m not ashamed of my body, but I don’t
have the self-confidence to stand up and carelessly pull off my clothes,
knowing he’s watching me the entire time. Having a beach date certainly
provides far more information than the average first date does, at least my
average first dates.
I squeeze lotion into my hand and begin
to cover my legs and arms. Then I move on to my shoulders, stomach, and finally
my face. The white lotion is still warm from being locked in the trunk, and it
has a light coconut fragrance, the definitive smell of summer.
“Want me to get your back?” Ryan
asks.
I smile. I anticipated and hoped
for this offer from him. I gladly hand the lotion to him as I swivel in my
chair to offer him my back. To my surprise, I startle slightly at the shock
that runs through me at his first touch.
He hesitates and asks, “You okay?”
I just nod and laugh it off. Then I
feel the light pressure of his fingers sliding over my skin, covering my
shoulder blades, skimming over my bikini strap and then rubbing firmly against
my lower back. The contact feels amazing. He’s thorough as he moves over every
bit of exposed skin. Even though I’m sure my back has been adequately covered,
his hands linger as he slowly continues to massage my neck and shoulders, and
then he traces the line of my spine.
When I glance over my shoulder to
smile at him, his hands still as his eyes meet mine. His eyelids are heavy.
After a moment, he removes his hands and passes the lotion back to me.
“Your turn?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No need. I
never burn.”
I’m both surprised and
disappointed. His skin does seem to have a naturally tan, almost Mediterranean
tone to it, but now I have no excuse to touch him. Doesn’t he want me to? Then
I realize that Wes is back. The creak of his chair alerts me to the fact that
he has joined us again. He has also returned well within the hour he had been
allowed. Either he got bored or he actually listened to his brother.
“How was your walk?” Ryan asks.
“Fine.” Wes’s eyes travel between
Ryan and I, lingering over my chest long enough to make me uncomfortable.
“You should be wearing sunscreen,”
I tell Wes to divert his attention. “You’re paler than I am.” I hand it to him
and to my surprise he listens and begins applying it.
I turn back to Ryan. “So, you never
burn?”
“Nope,” he repeats. Then he leans
in closer to me. “Not from the sun at least.”
I can feel my eyes widen in
response as my traitorous cheeks start to heat again.
Ryan tries to hide his growing grin
as he stands and moves toward the cooler in front of us. When I come back to
earth again, I focus on the food he’s pulling out. I can hardly believe the
lunch Ryan has packed. I’ve brought nothing. For some reason, I assumed there
would be a food stand here. I realize now that there isn’t. From the cooler,
Ryan has withdrawn about half a dozen sandwiches, grapes, peaches, and a bag of
chips. He next removes three bottles of water.
“I know you’re not a vegetarian
since you ordered a burger at lunch,” Ryan says. “I figured turkey was probably
a safe bet.”
“Turkey is great,” I tell him, not
sure why I’m so dumbfounded that he’s gone to the trouble of bringing lunch for
all of us. I almost want to cry at the gesture.
“I know a girl who’s allergic to
poultry,” Wes states casually.
I turn to him surprised. This is
the first sentence he’s offered that wasn’t prompted by a question. “Really?” I
answer, taking the offered sandwich from Ryan. “That’s unusual.”
He nods. “She goes into
anaphylactic shock when she even gets near it.”
“From poultry?” Ryan asks
skeptically, sitting himself down beside me again.
Wes confirms this with a solemn
nod. “It happened one day in the school cafeteria. It wasn’t pretty.”
“Was she okay?”
He shrugs. “I guess. She was back
in school in the next week. She missed her afternoon midterms though. I wished
I’d thought of that. Maybe I could suddenly become allergic to paper or
something.”
“You’re already allergic to
homework,” Ryan mutters.
“Ha ha.” Wes smirks at him,
unbothered.
The rest of the afternoon passes
quickly in a swirl of animated conversation, fleeting moments of eye-contact
between Ryan and I, and attempts at swimming in the seaweed laden ocean. In
late August, the beaches around Massachusetts seem to overflow with seaweed,
thickening the water and covering the sand. I cringe at the feel of it brushing
against my skin, but I don’t want to be the wimpy girl. So I follow Ryan and
Wes when the afternoon heat drives them into the water.
As we head down to the water line,
I imagine horsing around in the water with Ryan and hoping we’ll get to touch
again, but Wes has brought a football with him. Although Ryan tries to include
me in their ball toss game, Wes seems intent on holding his brother’s
attention. When the throwing distance becomes far more than I can achieve, I
beg off and head back to my beach chair.
The air chills my wet skin, and I wrap
a towel around myself as I go for my cell phone again. This time there is a
message. Feeling hopeful, I dial into my voicemail. At first I don’t recognize
the voice. “Hi Andrea. It’s Jason. Just thought I’d give you a call. Hope
you’re having a good weekend. Get in touch if you’d like to meet up again one
night this week.”
I stare at my phone. It’s unlikely
I’ll be returning that call. Frustrated and bordering on angry, I dial Katie’s
cell phone number. It goes straight to voicemail. “It’s Andy,” I begin, “I hope
you got my previous messages. I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, but
I’m worried about you. Please at least text me and let me know that you’re
okay. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Just a quick, ‘Hey, it’s
Katie. I haven’t stuck my head in an oven’ would be good.” I wince as I push
the End button. I’m always trying to make a wisecrack, but if Katie really is
completely depressed right now, that was a stupid message to have left.
I look up to see Ryan and Wes
making their way toward me with water dripping off their hair and smiles on
their faces. Watching them walking beside each other, I can imagine Wes as an
adult, filled out and less awkward, more like his brother. I hope he gets his
act together soon, before he gets into trouble he can’t get out of.
By late afternoon the crowds began
to pack up and drift off to their cars. After much hinting from Wes, our little
group does the same. I slip my clothes on over my sticky skin, trying to brush
the clinging sand away, and I look forward to the shower I’ll take the minute I
get home. Overall, it has been a very pleasant day. I can’t help but think how
differently the day might have gone if it had just been the two of us. Ryan
seemed uncomfortable talking about anything more than surface topics in front
of his brother. So, other than his family issues, I haven’t really learned
anything more about Ryan. But I don’t want to begrudge him time with his
brother.
The car ride home is much quicker
than the ride there. Tired from the day, we’re mostly silent, enjoying the
radio and watching the passing scenery. We arrive back at my townhouse around
six in the evening. I tell Wes that I enjoyed meeting him. I think I notice the
tiniest hint of a smile on his face when he mumbles back, “Yeah, you too.”
“Be right back,” Ryan tells his
brother as he gets out and walks around the car to take me to my door.
I feel less than fresh as we pause
together in the doorway. “I had a really nice day. Thank you,” I say, looking
up at him. The familiar butterflies begin to swarm as I anticipate and hope for
a kiss, even though I know Wes can still see us from the car.
He inches closer to me. “Me, too,”
he says, his voice low and deep. As his intense hazel eyes search mine, I can
clearly read his intentions in them. His fingers move beneath my chin to lift
my face toward his. Slowly, he leans down, closing the short distance between
us. I feel a shiver slide through me as his warm lips meet mine. It’s a soft
slow caressing kiss, and the butterflies settle down as the muscles low in my
stomach start to tighten. Too soon he lifts his head, and I see his eyes
cutting over to the car and then back again, letting me know that he’s stopping
because of Wes. I nod subtly and feel a smile growing on my tingling lips.
“How does your week look?” he asks
taking a step back. “Would you like to do something one night after work?”
“Sure,” I tell him, excited at the
prospect of seeing him again so soon and hoping to get some alone time.
“How about Thursday?”
“Thursday works.”
“It’s a plan,” he says. “I’ll call
you.”
“Sounds good.”
Then he waves and flashes his
bright grin at me before he returns to the car.
I walk into my cool entryway on a
cloud. I’m really liking Ryan. I can feel it. Just when I thought I’d relegated
all hope to the very back recesses of a dark and empty closet, I surprise
myself by yanking the door wide open and letting in the light. Maybe the other
shoe won’t drop. Maybe a little optimism won’t jinx things.
I set my bag down on the kitchen
table and catch sight of Tiger racing through the doorway. He latches onto my
ankle and then steps back to sit down and look up at me. I laugh and pick him
up, holding his soft, furry little weight in my arms. He purrs and blinks at
me.
I’m in a good mood the rest of the
evening. After showering and grabbing a bowl of cereal for dinner because I’m
too tired to make anything else, I’ve nearly forgotten the message I left for
Katie. She finally returns my call after ten that evening
Katie is whispering as she speaks.
“Hi Andy. I got your messages.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“I waited until Mike was asleep to
call you.”
“Oh.” Katie is quiet on her end.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I haven’t talk to him about
anything,” she tells me with a hesitant tone.
I sit up in bed, startling Tiger,
who jumps to the floor. “I’m not judging you, Katie. What you do is up to you.”
“Have you talked to Bryn?” she
asks.
“No. I haven’t really been in the
mood to talk to her.”
More silence from her end. I’m
trying to think of something to say that will make her feel better, or at least
make things okay with us.
“I’m pregnant, Andy.”
I inhale sharply. “What?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“Oh wow,” I say. “How long have you
known?”
“I took a test a couple of days
ago.”
“You didn’t say anything
yesterday.”
“I haven’t told anyone. Mike
doesn’t even know yet. We didn’t plan it or anything.”
“Have you seen your doctor?”
“No.”
“Are you sure you’re pregnant?”
“I took a lot of tests once the
first one turned positive, and I can feel it. I am.”
“Wow,” I say again, not
really sure how I’m supposed to react and wondering if I should congratulate
her. “What are you going to do?” I finally ask.
“I was actually happy when I found
out. I was just waiting for the right time to tell Mike.”
“Does he want a baby?”
I hear her sigh. “We’d planned on
having kids in the future. I thought he’d be surprised and maybe taken aback,
but happy overall. Now, I don’t know.”
I rub my hands over my face.
“I’m so sorry about yesterday. I probably shouldn’t have said anything. If I
had known...”
She interrupts me, “Do you want to
hear something awful? I considered telling him about the baby as a way to trap
him into staying with me. Can you believe that?”
When I don’t answer because I don’t
know what to say, she continues.
“I know what you’d do if you
were me,” she says quietly. “You’d confront him about Bryn, kick him out of the
house, tell him about the baby, and in the same breath tell him to go to hell.”
I can’t help but laugh. “That’s me,
kicking ass and taking names.”
Katie laughs, too. “You would
though.”
“I don’t know. I talk a good game,
but I’m the one who’s usually alone when everyone else is in a relationship.
I’m not sure my example is a good one to follow.”
Suddenly she blurts out, “I’m so angry
at him. This could be such an amazing time for us, and he’s wrecked it.”
Because I helped with the wreckage,
I find myself apologizing and then trying to look on the bright side. “It’s not
wrecked. You guys definitely need to do some serious talking. But I can be
happy about the baby, right? You’re going to be a mom. That’s pretty
incredible.”