The beach bar is actually open today. Sometimes, it seems like everything that happens is something that's going wrong.

Less than a goddamn week ago, the beach bar being open would’ve been annoying, and the beach bar being closed would’ve seemed like just another goddamn thing that’s gone wrong.

Just a few days—a meaningless, almost nonexistent stretch of time—but just a few days have been enough to turn my well-worn New York City-perfected curmudgeonly approach to every stupid little goddamn thing that happens and transformed it, like some fucking psychological magic trick, into a shiny new appreciation for the things that I do have in life.

Which is a goddamn lot.

Maddie’s waving at me from halfway across this odd little section of the beach with the small bar and the sporadic buffet. I give a perfunctory wave back.

That’s right: Maddie. Not fucking Mad, because that makes her mad. It’s Maddie.

Maddie from Boston. She finally spilled the baked beans on that one.

I told you that a few days can make a big fucking difference.

Maddie’s happily lost in whatever conversation she’s having with Dominique, and Dominique’s daughter, Sally, and that guy who walks around in a shark costume.

Shark costume guy is supposed to be a mascot or some shit. Whether he’s a mascot for the whole resort or just part of the resort or just this part of the beach, I may never know.

But he has a pretty sweet gig walking around all day and posing for photos with whoever asks. Usually he ends up posing with families with little kids, like Dominique and Sally, but sometimes adults want their own photo.

Adults like Madeline. She likes doing things like digging through the props that shark guy keeps around, like those fake mustaches on sticks and plastic tiaras that say Naughty on them in cursive letters. She also likes doing things like posing with the shark guy and a bunch of those props, poking out her tongue or doing her goofy-sexy duckface for the camera.

Maddie’s looking at the prints from her photo session and talking to Dominique and Sally, who both took a shining to her instantly—from what I’ve seen, literally everyone does. I can’t hear their conversation from where I am, but I hear Madeline break out into her siren-song laugh.

Would I ever get sick of hearing that laugh? No fucking way. Not that I’ll ever find out.

I’m only about halfway through my Captain’s Demise as I watch Maddie walking back in my direction in her ocher sundress and pink Chuck Taylors. She pulls off the sneakers and a dress thing with panache—probably a combination of choosing the right pairings and having the attitude and confidence to make it work.

Speaking of attitude and confidence, is it possible to believe that I still get a little nervous watching Madeline walking toward me? I mean, fucking A, right? Who would’ve seen that one coming?

Whoever I do end up with probably won’t make me feel like that, but that will be for the fucking best.

I also feel like the luckiest motherfucker on the planet watching Maddie saunter closer and closer to me, knowing she’s on her way to the barstool right next to mine. That’s one of those things I’ll miss about Hawaii, but it’s not like I can stay here for-fucking-ever.

I’m rocking khakis for one of the first times in my life, and I feel my usual stirrings underneath the beige fabric as Madeline smilingly sits down to her own Captain’s Demise, which is still nearly full.

“How’d they come out?”

Maddie’s poking around her frozen drink with her straw.

“You should’ve posed with me.”

It’s still out of habit that I avoid shit like that, but I’m really fucking regretting it now. If nothing else, it’d be a tangible memory of my time here. If anything’s certain in life right now, it’s that I’m never gonna have a week like this again.

“You’re right, Maddie.”

“That’s for sure.” Madeline wraps her lips around her straw, draining a decent portion of hard liquor, fruit juice, and crushed ice from her plastic cup.

“Can I see the prints, at least? How many copies did you get?”

“Calm down.”

Maddie’s joking, but she’s right. Again. I need to enjoy this while it’s here instead of worrying about happens when it’s over.

We finish a few more sips of our sweet, icy drinks in silence.

“Would you want to get more photos later?” Fuck, I’m still hung up on this, which is a great way to ruin my last few days here.

“I’d rather just go swimming.”

I notice Madeline’s watching the ocean. It’s no fucking Charles River, that’s for damn sure.

“Swimming? In there?”

Maddie takes out the straw and swigs down the melting remains of her cocktail.

“I would like, Mr. Barrett, to spend some time in the fucking ocean. Swimming, fighting the current, forming our own whale-watching expedition, whatever...and I’d like to do it with you.”

Maddie’s smiling, but it’s not her usual “hotter than the sun”, “set the world ablaze with her sexiness” smile. This smile contains depths of sweetness, sincerity, and warmth that just fucking blindsides me.

I was pretty sure I had a handle on things by now, but...but what, really?

How does a smile change anything?

The mantra I’ve been inundating myself with over the last couple days is truer than ever:

I just need to enjoy this while it lasts.

I return Madeline’s smile with all the warmth I can muster.

“Come on!”

And she’s off, launching herself from the stool and charging across the sand on a singular mission to get into the fucking ocean.

“Woooohooooo!”

Maddie’s bellows resonate across the beach as I follow her. I’m not doing any woohoo-ing myself, but I am running behind Maddie at breakneck speed.

If only all those day traders, index fund managers, and financial analysts back in New York could see me dashing headlong into the Pacific, not even wearing a fucking bathing suit.

If only the person I was last week could see me now. What would he think?

That I’m being weird? Or that I should be embarrassed?

And would it really be me thinking that, or would it be my then-fiancée?

Madeline’s seamlessly ditched her Chucks in the sand on her way into the water.

Thanks to that run, my endorphins are going full throttle as I reach the water just a few feet behind her. Does she even see me?

“Hey,” I call out, trying to project my voice over the din of the crashing waves.

Maddie spins around, a huge grin plastered on her face. Instead of what I’d expect at this point—for her to be laughing, frolicking, caught up in the pure joy of the moment—Madeline happily swings her arms into the ocean and sends the largest splash of salt water that she can amass in my direction.

It all gets me, soaking the bottom half of my shirt, along with the entirety of my pants. I’m still phoneless, but now my wallet, cards, ID, and my suite’s keycard are all saturated with briny ocean water.

Seeing Madeline’s grin, feeling the Pacific soak into some of the priciest clothes I packed, there is no fucking doubt that this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time—since well before I even met Audra, since I can’t even remember when.

“Oh, lady. Do you know what you’ve done?” I send a splash of at least equal size back to Maddie, drenching the lower half of her sundress more than it already is.

I start running toward Madeline through the water as she howls in amusement.

“I can’t believe you followed me wearing shoes and everything!”

“I can’t believe you would splash me.”

We splash at each other a couple more times before Maddie’s outright paralyzed with hysterical laughter. I wait for her laughs to die off a bit as she looks at me.

“Do you know anyone else who would follow you into the ocean dressed the way I am?”

“Probably not, Ethan.”

Another of the handful of times she’s used my actual name. And maybe the last.

She’s wading toward me calmly now, and I stride through the water toward her. The tide is rising, though, and we’re both a little more than waist deep by the time we’re face-to-face.

“Are you glad you met someone in Hawaii willing to follow you into the ocean if you asked?”

On one hand, I’m sort of asking myself that question. On the other hand, I’m not certain why I’m asking it at all.

The response seems positive, though. Madeline finds both my hands in the water and takes them in hers. Her smile—that deep, poignant smile that I’m just discovering now—resurfaces as we draw closer to each other.

“You dope,” Maddie whispers, her smile widening.

We fall into a kiss as the tide begins to wane. Instead of yielding to the moment entirely like I usually do, I start trying to think of a good reason that this really needs to end.