Chapter Seven
Two days later, my laptop sits in front of me, my gratitude list bright on the screen. I inadvertently type a row of Fs—probably because my fingers have been poised in the ready position for too long. I’ve already added my new job. That was an easy one.
I try to come up with something else, but I can’t stop thinking about how Gran should be here to celebrate with me. How my dad should be here. Would he have taken me out to dinner? Brought me flowers? He used to give me flowers on my birthday—one stem for every year I was alive. The last time he gave them to me, there were ten red roses. Had I known I’d never get flowers from him again, I would’ve pressed them between wax paper, preserving them forever.
My phone buzzes, and I glance down to see the screen. Ryan the trainer pops up, along with my heart rate.
Hey, everyone, sorry for the late notice. I need to cancel all training today. I’ll reschedule with you ASAP.
Well, that sucks. I was looking forward to punching something. As I try to come up with an appropriate response, I realize it wasn’t only the punching I was looking forward to. The truth is, I wanted to see Ryan, too. There’s something about him that makes me forget everything else that’s going on. My phone sounds again, and I grab it, hoping he’s sending me a private message that he won’t have to cancel my session.
Guess what?!!
I don’t have to look at the name to know it’s Hannah.
Do tell!
Alex and I looked at rings last night. Engagement rings. OMG!
No way! That’s so exciting! Is he proposing soon?
I watch as the little dots appear, still absorbing the news. I mean, they’ve been dating since college, so I shouldn’t be surprised.
I don’t know. He played it off like he was shopping for his mom, and then we kind of drifted over to the rings. I’ll call you later to discuss! The bell just rang. Gotta get the kiddos from recess! Xoxo
Xoxo. Can’t wait to talk more. Love you!
I stare at my phone, thinking. We’re in such different places in our lives now. She may be getting engaged soon, and I’m totally single. But it’s good. I’m right where I should be. I close my list and head to my room for my running shoes. There’s an entire stretch of beach awaiting me, and I could use the adrenaline rush.
The midday sun is gentle, a pleasant change from the harsh rays that have plagued Southern California for the last week. I reach the pier, pausing to stretch my quads. Out of habit, I turn right, heading north. My legs feel tight as I get into stride. Ahead of me, an older woman pushes a baby jogger, her head bobbing happily, as though she’s singing to her grandchild. The straps of her purple tank cause the extra girth of her back to pucker. She looks like comfort, as though a hug from her, hearty and warm, could solve all the world’s problems. I zip past her, enjoying the feel of the wind in my face.
Thoughts race through my mind, waving a hand, desperate to be noticed, but they become garbled like a warped voicemail message. The woman’s bobbing head and solid figure shine bright in my mind. She reminds me of Gran. It’s not her appearance but rather her entire aura. The happy singing, the comfort, the joy. I run faster, trying to escape the tears that well up in my eyes. Nothing exists but the pavement ahead of me that I destroy with each pounding step, but it’s not enough. Every time something big happens, like getting the job and Hannah’s imminent engagement, I want to share it with Gran. It should get easier with time, but little things like the lady in purple take me by surprise and send all my feelings of loss surging to the surface.
I want Gran to be here.
I want my dad.
I flip a U-turn at the pier in the neighboring town in two efficient steps. Sweat trickles down the center of my tank, and my eyes burn as I tear down the path. I pass the woman with the jogger once again—this time heading toward her. Does she realize I’ve more than lapped her?
In my head, she says, “Patience, dear. You have all the time in the world.”
No! I need to get there before death steals everything from me when I’m not looking. Whoa! I stagger and slow my pace. Where the hell did that thought come from? But even as I wonder, the truth of it resides in my bones. We never know when our time is up. God knows my dad didn’t plan on having a heart attack. With my hands on my hips, I try to gain control of my breathing as I walk like a Lego figure—stiff and jerky—back to the La Playa pier where I started. I pause at the drinking fountain, quenching my parched mouth with the metallic-tasting water.
A man sitting on a nearby stone bench turns to me and says, “There’re some dolphins out there.” He points. “See them?”
Wiping my mouth with my tank, I look to the ocean, straining to see them. If I do, something good will happen. Seconds later, two dolphins arc out of the water, followed by three more in rapid succession. My heart flutters with hope. I turn to the man, a smile cracking my stony expression. “That’s a big pod. They seem happy, don’t they? I like to think they’re good luck.” I wait for his response, hoping he’ll agree.
He shrugs. “Could be.”
A group of tourists gathers near us, asking what’s out there, and he engages them while I slip away, moving closer to the sand. The dolphins swim south, and I watch until they’re tiny specks in the vast blue. I make a hazy wish as they go, hoping the universe can decipher it better than I. Let everything work out okay. Wishes are supposed to be clear and specific, but also from the heart. At least I got one component right.
A guy playing with his daughter near the swing set catches my eye. He looks vaguely familiar. Something about his stance. I shade my eyes and step closer.
It’s Ryan.
He’s a dad?
I contemplate whether or not to walk over and say hi. As though sensing my gaze, he turns. “Katie?”
I slip off my shoes and socks and dig my toes into the warm sand. The little girl toddles over, clutching a plastic shovel like a scepter, her red curls bouncing. She grins up at me, and I’m hit with recognition. She’s the girl from the wayward stroller.
Ryan brushes sand from his shirt and smiles. “Hey.”
“Hi.” I study his face, trying to determine if he’s older than I assumed. The woman with the stroller had to have been in her late twenties, if not her early thirties. I try to recall if she had a wedding ring on, but I didn’t notice.
“Sorry about today. I had a bit of a family emergency.” He tousles the little girl’s curls, and she points her shovel at me.
“Olaf your favorite?”
I laugh. “You remember. Yes, Olaf is my favorite.”
Ryan looks at me, his mouth curving into a confused half grin. “You’ve met?”
“Yeah. Her stroller was rolling down the sidewalk, and I stopped it. That’s when I met her and your…girlfriend?” He blinks in surprise, and I try again, my voice crackly. “Wife?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “No. You met my sister. Sydney is my niece.”
“Oh. Right.” I force a laugh. “Got that one wrong.”
He swings Sydney into his arms as though she weighs nothing. She drops the shovel in the process, but he swoops down and tucks it into the pocket of his board shorts. “My sister needed to be with her husband today. His mom’s getting some medical testing done, so I’m helping out.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“Are you kidding? I love it. Do you have any nieces or nephews?”
“No. It’s kind of hard when you don’t have siblings.”
“No way. You’re an only child?”
“Yeah. You make it sound weird.”
“No. Not at all. It’s just that I grew up with a twin brother and two sisters. Complete chaos.” Sydney puts her hands on Ryan’s cheeks, forcing him to look at her, so I don’t get the chance to ask what that was like, or if his twin is identical or fraternal.
“We play now, Unc Ry Ry?”
He touches his nose to hers. “Yes, sugar. We’ll play now. You and me and the swings. How ’bout it?”
She wriggles in his arms, and he sets her down.
With an outstretched hand, she patters toward me. “You come, too?”
I take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze, fully prepared to tell her I have to go.
“I, um…”
She doesn’t wait for my answer and tugs my arm, trying to pull me toward the swings. “We go now.”
Ryan kneels down so he’s eye level with her, taking both her hands in his. “Hey, sugar. Katie might not be able to, okay? We’d love for her to stay and play, but if she has to go, we understand, right?” He looks at me, his eyes sincere.
My excuse to leave blows away with the breeze. “Sure. I’d love to.”
She claps her pudgy hands together. “You build castle?”
I laugh, wondering what happened to the swing idea. “I can build a great sandcastle. We have to go closer to the water, though. Want to race?”
She giggles and scurries ahead of us. Ryan touches my arm. “Thanks. I think you’ve just made her day.” Before I can respond, he sweeps past me, scoops Sydney onto his shoulders, and jogs easily toward the water. Spinning to face me he calls, “We’re winning the race. Better hurry!”
Sydney’s laughter fills the air, and I touch a hand to my chest, wishing I could bottle the sound. I pick up my pace to a run and catch them by the shore.
I sink into the sand next to them. “The key to a great castle is the right mix of wet and dry sand.”
“Is that so? Did you come to the beach a lot as a kid?”
“Yeah. Not here—I lived in New York until I was eleven. My grandparents had a place in the Hamptons, and I’d stay with them every summer.”
Ryan pauses his scooping. “The Hamptons? As in, the rich and famous place?”
Using my hands, I add to his pile. “I guess. It was just my grandparents’ place to me. At the time, I didn’t understand how lucky I was.”
“And to think I spent my summers filling up water balloons with the hose in our backyard.”
“That actually sounds great.”
Sydney jumps on the mound Ryan has created. “Uh-oh, Unc Ry! It go boom!” And she falls into his lap, giggling.
“Hey! You crushed my masterpiece.”
She pats his head with a sandy hand. “Tha’s okay, Unc Ry. You be okay.” A flock of seagulls sidesteps closer to us, looking for food to steal. Sydney runs into the center of them. “Go home, chickens! Go home!”
Ryan shakes his head. “So much for castle building.”
“Speak for yourself. She didn’t knock mine over.” I shift so he can see the foot-high lump I’ve created.
“Wow, Katie. Those are some mad skills.”
“Thank you.”
He pats some more sand to the side of my castle. As I watch him work, I point to his hands. “Why’d you choose those specific words for your knuckles?”
He looks at them and laughs. “They were the first ones I had done. My mom was pissed. She told me I should’ve gotten a nice plaque from the Hallmark store instead of having the words inked on my skin. She got over it, though, when I reminded her she was the one who engrained it into our heads that you can’t live without love, and you can’t love if you aren’t really living your life.”
I try to imagine what his mom looks like. She probably has pretty green eyes and a captivating smile. “That’s actually very sweet. It sounds like you get along well with her.”
“She’s awesome. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without all she’s done for me.”
Oh, if he only knew how attractive he is right now. The man he is today. I could listen to him talk about that for hours. And to think if I would’ve seen him walking down the street before I knew him, I would’ve given him only a brief glance, dismissing him because he doesn’t look like the preppy guys I normally gravitate to.
Instead of asking further questions that will leave me swooning, I turn to watch Sydney as she darts across the sand. “Your niece is so cute.”
“That she is.” He turns his full gaze to her. It doesn’t escape me he’s had an eye on her the entire time. His sister would be proud. “So what else have you got planned for the day, besides creating masterpieces, that is?”
“A few errands. And I’ll probably skim through some of my law books. I start my new job Monday.”
“That’s right! How are you feeling about it? You ready?”
“I think so. I vacillate between nervous and excited.”
“You’ll kill it.”
“Thanks for saying that.” I sift sand through my fingers, enjoying the warm softness of it. “There’s always that fear of the unknown, though.”
He swirls a finger in the sand, drawing a squiggly line. “Sometimes the unknown is good, though, right?”
“Not really. I like to be in the know at all times.”
He draws a smiley face, then brushes his hands together. “The gym was an unknown for you. It might’ve been scary, but you came right in, and look how that turned out.”
“Well, yeah. But that was different.”
He smiles and looks toward Sydney before returning his gaze to mine. “True. There was that hot guy at the door and all.”
The sand falls through my fingers, and I flick some at his leg. “I can’t remember.”
“Ouch.” He smiles. “But in all seriousness, I don’t think you have anything to fear. From what I’ve seen, you’re extremely intelligent, you’re resourceful,” he says, tapping a finger. “Hell, I’ve never had a client learn how to wrap her hands by watching YouTube videos. Do you know how many hands I wrap a day?”
“A lot?”
“Hell yes. But I have a feeling if you aren’t sure how to do something, you’ll figure it out. You have all the tools you need in that brain of yours. So there’s no reason to be afraid.”
In a parallel universe, I’d wrap my arms around him. But it’s here and now, and his little niece is chasing seagulls, and he’s not mine to hug. I tuck my knees to my chest. “That’s really nice of you to say. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Sydney flaps her arms behind the seagulls, and they squawk in annoyance. She stumbles and falls face forward into the sand. A wail erupts from her, and Ryan rushes over to help, gently brushing sand from her face with his shirt. “Hey, small fry, you’re not supposed to eat the sand.”
This earns him a louder cry, and she buries her face in his chest. He looks up at me. “Such a short distance from laughter to tears when you’re two.” Brushing a hand down her matted curls, he says, “I should get her home for a nap.”
“I’ll walk back up with you guys.”
We reach the jogging path, and he stops by the showers. “I’ll do a quick rinse here and then tuck her in at my place.”
I touch the back of Sydney’s head. “Goodbye, Sydney. It was fun to see you today.”
“Bye-bye,” she mumbles.
Ryan mouths, “She’s almost out.” In a normal voice he says, “Are we on for Tuesday at the usual time?”
“Yep. I’ll be there.” It can’t come soon enough. I start to turn, but he taps my arm.
“I’m glad I ran into you today,” he says softly. “I was bummed I had to cancel.”
I meet his gaze. “I’m glad I saw you, too.” Without a second thought, I brush my hand down Sydney’s curls once more before giving Ryan’s arm a gentle touch. Right there on the angel with the sad eyes. I’ve never touched a tattoo before. The idea of it has always made me slightly nervous. Intellectually, I understand tattooed skin feels the same as any other, but nonetheless, they’ve always seemed very untouchable to me, like they house a lot of pain. But Ryan’s skin is smooth and warm, maybe a little salty from the ocean air. Perfect. I don’t attempt to analyze my actions or interpret what he thinks. All I know is that if the opportunity to touch him presents itself again, I won’t hesitate.
As I walk home, clumps of sand crumble from my legs. Loose strands of hair tickle my neck, and I’m covered with a fine sheen of sweat. I’m sure I look a mess. But that was the most fun I’ve had in ages.