7.
Becca
Yeah, yeah, I know. Swore off men, huh? Well, so much for that resolution. That had lasted what? All of twenty minutes?
When I’d gone back inside the villa, I had done so with every intention of keeping my promise. Seemed easy enough to do considering this was my first night here and I was exhausted from the long flight and the strong piña colada. But just as soon as I’d thrown myself down onto the bed, my mind had begun to race. For several minutes I had lain there, doing my best to get my mind to shut the hell up. No matter how I tried, it just wouldn’t listen:
Did you see how all the girls were following him down the beach with their eyes? He didn’t seem to notice a single one. Or didn’t care, rather. Because he had definitely noticed; how could he not when they were being so obvious? It must happen to him a lot. Makes sense being that ridiculously good-looking. Like, almost fictitiously good-looking. Men like him don’t actually exist, do they? Sure makes it hard to remember all those promises to yourself. Or your past heartbreaks, for that matter.
Maybe I shouldn’t think about it, I counter. Okay, so he’s handsome. So what? Don’t you remember the car ride to the resort? How much of an arrogant jerk he’d been?
That might be a bit too harsh, girl. I thought we’d already been over this. If anything, he was nervous. Obviously he liked you and wasn’t used to getting turned down. If that happened to you, how do you think you’d act? It’s not easy having someone you really want reject you.
How badly could he actually want me though? It’s not like he knows me. He probably just thinks I have a pretty face and a nice body. Which I do, of course. But that’s beside the point.
It was more than that.
You think? Why me, though? There are a thousand other girls within a mile of here, probably half of them prettier. I’ve already seen several women beautiful enough to be supermodels eyeing him. He didn’t pay any more attention to them than he did to all the rest. So what’s so special about me?
I don’t know. All I know is that there was a connection. You felt it. He felt it. What more do you need to know?
I don’t like this. Not one bit. Why does life think it’s okay to toss people into your life right when you least want them? I just want to be left alone!
Look, just because you feel drawn towards one another doesn’t mean you have to be anything more than friends. You’re not a slave to life, or fate, or whatever you wanna call it. You can still feel attracted to the man and not be anything more than friends. Right? Right?
Hmm, I suppose…
Feeling only half-convinced, and knowing that in all likelihood I was merely fooling myself (aren’t we the best at fooling ourselves?), I had pushed myself up from the bed and changed quickly into a bikini. Two minutes later, I was heading down the path from my villa to the beach. Not five minutes had passed since I had disappeared inside, leaving Rich to stand alone on the sand.
Luckily, he hadn’t gone far in that time. Even if he had, he would have been easy enough to spot. I see him instantly. He’s about a hundred yards down the beach, his back to me, his head down and his hands in his pockets as he walks along. The sun is beating down on his back, his skin shiny with sweat, his muscles rippling with every step.
Not having even the slightest clue of what I’m going to say, I march after him, the dry sand warm between my toes.
“Rich!” I call when I’m about twenty yards away, my voice sounding odd over the general quiet of the beach. I can feel several pairs of eyes peering out at me from underneath umbrellas.
He doesn’t hear me. He’s looking at the ocean now, his eyes narrowed, his mind obviously far away.
“Rich!” I call again.
This time he does hear me. I watch as his eyes refocus, his mind snapping back to the present. His step falters. He’s not sure if what he’s heard is real. Slowly, he turns around. When his eyes fall upon me, a look of confusion crosses his face.
“I…uhh…” he begins, trailing off. He’s looking at me like he’s waiting for me to speak, to prove to him that I’m real.
As for me, well, I’m frozen, my heart, for whatever reason, beating wildly in my chest. I glance down at his shirtless body. This close, he looks even more like a marble statue than before. My hands are trembling; everything in me wants to reach out and touch him. Just friends, remember?
“Hi,” I finally manage to blurt after several seconds have passed. Instantly, I feel my face redden.
“Hi,” he echoes. This time, it’s his eyes that fall down my body. He doesn’t have to say anything for me to know that he likes what he sees, a fact which sends a thrill of pleasure racing through me. Just friends, remember? “W-what are you doing here?”
I giggle nervously. Still no words will come. Had I really become this rusty with men over the last few years? Taking a deep breath, I force myself to speak, saying the first thing that pops into my head. “Don’t you remember? We’re staying at the same resort. Didn’t you just wave to me?”
“Umm…”
“Anyways,” I continue before I lose my nerve, though I don’t know why I should be nervous in the first place. “I was wondering…I was wondering if maybe you’d like to take a walk with me?” My face is burning now, my cheeks positively on fire.
“Uhh…”
“You can say no if you don’t want to.”
“Oh no,” Rich says quickly. “No, wait. I mean yes. Yes, I’d like to. Talk a walk, I mean. With you. Take a walk together. Let’s do it. Or not it, just whatever you want.” He sighs, a self-conscious smile on his face. His face is almost as red as mine. “Yes,” he continues, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “I’d love to take a walk with you.”
I laugh, my nerves easing. At least now I knew I wasn’t the only one feeling this way.
“That’s good,” I say, moving to stand beside him. Again, I’m struck by how much bigger he is than me. I slide my hand through the crook of his elbow, the touch of his flesh against mine almost enough to make me gasp. Just friends, remember? “I was hoping you’d say yes. Let’s go.”
“Actually, do you mind if we go this way?” Rich asks, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. He too has calmed down and is back to the same confident man I had met on the plane. “I’ve already been the other way.”
“Fine by me.”
Arm in arm, we turn and stroll down the beach, for a while walking in silence. Neither one of us, it seems, knows what to say. A group of young women, the oldest no more than twenty, passes us going the opposite way. All five women stare at Rich as we walk by, though just like before, he notices not a one.
Soon enough, we’ve left most of the resort-goers behind. Finally, as if he’s been deliberating with himself for some time, Rich sighs and looks over at me.
“Listen,” he begins. “About earlier…I’m sorry. I know I was being a prick.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, waving the hand not holding his arm dismissively. “I wasn’t exactly being the friendliest person either. After all, you did give me a ride to the resort.”
And just like that, whatever tension there had been between us is gone. We continue on. It’s not long before a wonderful feeling of relaxation begins to come over me. It was hard not to feel relaxed in a place like this with the cool water lapping at your toes and the sidelong sun warming your shoulders. Out on the water, several surfers shout with joy each time a particularly large wave rolls through.
Time is passing; how much I’m not so sure. It’s like the sun is stuck in its position in the sky. Coming to a stop, Rich bends down and buries his fingers in the sand, digging out a shell whose edge is poking out. Working it free, he lets go of my arm and goes down to the water to wash it clean.
“Look at this,” he says, bringing his find over to me.
“Wow,” I gasp, taking the shell from his outstretched hand. “It’s so beautiful.” No bigger than the tip of my thumb, the shell is like a miniature fan in my palm. It’s a brilliant pink, its color so vivid it doesn’t seem real.
“I think it’s called a sunrise shell.” Taking it from me, Rich holds it up in front of us. “Which is the perfect name for such a miraculous little beauty.” He slips it into his pocket and gives me a wink. “It’ll make a perfect souvenir.”
We set off again, still moving away from the resort. Every few minutes, I glance over at Rich. More than once, I find him staring right back. Each time this happens, we both smile and look quickly away.
Uh-oh, girl. Just friends, remember?
Less and less this was looking like a good idea after all, walking on this beautiful beach with this handsome man I’ve only known for three hours. Dangerous waters these were. One was never supposed to sit down in front of a nice meal if one wasn’t prepared to eat.
Then too, what did I really know about him? Only that his name was Rich and that just like me, he was here on vacation. But who knew? Maybe neither of those things were true. It wasn’t exactly a brilliant idea to be walking in the middle of nowhere with a stranger, not another person in sight.
“So,” I begin, turning to Rich. “What do I need to know—“
“Tell me about yourself,” he says, turning to me at the exact same moment I turn to him.
As one, we laugh.
“Okay, you first, Becca. Tell me about yourself.”
“Well…what would you like to know?”
“Let’s start with something basic. Like why you’re here, for instance. Or,” he continues quickly when he sees my face darken. “Tell me you what do for a living.”
“Let’s start there,” I say, thankful for the out. “I’m a graphic designer. Or was, I should say.”
“Was?”
I sigh. So much for not thinking about things.
“I guess that’s part of why I’m here.” We’ve stopped again, not so far up from where the waves are racing up onto the beach. Without a word about it passing between us, we drop down onto the sand. We’re a good ways away from the resort, the world around us deserted save for a few seagulls resting nearby, their beady, black eyes staring at nothing. “I got fired.”
“Fired?”
“Yep.” Digging my fingers into the sand, I grab a handful and sprinkle it on top of my toes. “From the firm I’d been at for the last six years.”
“What’d you do?” Rich asks with a grin.
“Who knows? Just one day I went in and the boss was there waiting for me. Told me to pack my things, that they no longer had any need for me. That’s how he put it: ‘no longer had any need for me’. And then security escorted me out. I never got more of an explanation than that.”
“Huh.” Rich chews this over. “Do you think you pissed off the director or CEO or whatever?”
“Maybe. I mean, he did have a thing for me…”
“Ahh, there you go. There’s your answer. I’m going to guess too that you either outright rejected him or subtly rejected him by pretending not to notice his advances.”
“Something like that.”
“I see. So that’s why you’re out here. Are you looking for a fresh start? Or did you just need a vacation, a reset before you get back to it?”
“Well, that was only one of the reasons why I came out here.” Now that I had shared this much, I might as well go all the way. Or most of the way, anyways.
“What’s the other? Or others, if there’s more than one?”
“Okay, umm…” I begin, my lip already beginning to trembling. Dammit. Crying in front of this man I’d just met was the last thing I wanted to do.
Rich is patiently waiting. He knows that what I’m about to share is painful, extremely so. The look he’s giving me is one of compassion and gentleness.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to share,” he whispers, his knee knocking against mine. We’re seated right next to each other, our shoulders touching.
“No, it’s okay. It’s just…my mother…she…umm…well, she uhh…” Try as I might, I can’t do it; there’s no stopping the tears. A single drop gathers in the corner of my eye, swells, and runs down my cheek.
“I’m so sorry,” Rich says quietly, understanding exactly what it is I’m having so much trouble saying. He reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be.”
I nod. “Yep,” I say, my voice catching in my throat. “I still miss her so much.”
“How did she go, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Cancer.”
“I’m so sorry, Becca.”
Several minutes drip away, neither Rich nor I talking as we watch the ever endless, ever unchanging crash of waves onto the beach. The tears have retreated back inside of me, though Rich’s hand is still wrapped around mine, his thumb gently caressing my knuckles.
“You know,” Rich begins, his voice just barely audible over the ocean. “Sometimes I wish I could just ask someone—God, I guess, or whoever it is that made this entire thing—why there are these sorts of things in the universe in the first place. Like…what’s the purpose of cancer? It just seems cruel to me. No one should have to go like that. I understand why some bad things happen—accidents, for example, or men killing one another—but disease just makes no sense. If you had the power, why create something that causes so much pain and suffering to everyone involved?”
He glances over at me. A fresh tear is running down my cheek. Smiling gently, he lets go of my hand and reaches up to wipe the tear away with a finger.
“I’d like to ask that person just what his reasoning was for having it here. I can’t think of anything other than cruelty. I don’t buy the whole original sin thing, or even that disease like that serves a purpose. What purpose could it possibly serve? I’d like to ask, but sometimes I think if I had the chance, I’d probably just deck the asshole.” He chuckles. “So maybe it’s for the best. Especially since I don’t believe in violence.”
I don’t say anything. I’d had those same thoughts a thousand times. And just like Rich, I had yet to come up with a suitable answer. Life was cruel and short and brutish and inexplicably painful and that was all we as humans needed to know.
Don’t forget that life can be blisteringly beautiful too, Becca. Take now for example. Have you ever seen such a paradise?
“And then you come to a place like this,” Rich continues, gesturing out towards the ocean, “where you are confronted with such utter beauty. Which only makes it all the more confusing that something as terrible as cancer can exist in a world as perfect as this one.” He looks over at me. I’m staring out at the ocean, my hands clasped around my knees. “I’m sorry you lost your mother.” He wipes away another tear. “I’ve been fortunate enough not to have had to experience anything like that as of yet, so I can’t exactly say I understand what you’re going through. But my heart goes out to you. Truly. I know, even though I don’t know you very well, that she was undoubtedly proud of you and looked upon you as one of her greatest accomplishments.”
Tearing my eyes away from the ocean, I look over at the odd, wonderful man beside me. Words were not enough to express how grateful I was to have him here beside me at the moment. It was another good reminder, and one I could desperately use: that no matter where you went, and despite all of the pain and the hardships, there would always be good, kind, caring people waiting to pick you up.
I don’t have to say a word for him to understand my appreciation. I can tell by the way his smile and the twinkle in his eyes that he knows. Together, we turn back to face the water.
We sit there for some time, unmoving as a soft breeze wafts down the beach and brushes against our cheeks like a mother caressing her child. My thoughts are ranging far and wide now, though never do they stray too far from my mother and the life I left behind.
At least half an hour passes. The tears have stopped for good now, my heart no longer tight with pain. Filling my lungs with as much fresh air as they can hold, I allow the last of the tension to drain from my body. As always, I’ve come to the same conclusion: regardless of how messy life became, there was no choice but to keep moving forward.
“So, your turn,” I say, letting out the air I’ve been holding. Unwrapping my arms from around my knees, I lean back onto my elbows.
“My turn?” Rich says, stretching out beside me. He folds his hands behind his head and looks over at me with one eye squinted.
“Yep. Your turn. What are you doing out here? What’s your story?”
Almost too quick for me to catch, a shadow passes over Rich’s face. Just as quickly, it’s replaced by an easy smile.
“My story’s not that interesting, to be honest. Just got tired of home, needed a break. You know how it goes. Sometimes work just gets to you. And what better place to get away from it all than Hawaii? It’s familiar like the mainland, and yet completely different. Plus, I’ve never been here before. So here I am.”
It’s convincing, but not convincing enough. I can tell immediately that I’m not getting the whole story. Then again, maybe I’m just paranoid because I myself am not giving the full story. It’s not like I hadn’t conveniently forgot to mention Rob, the main driving force as to why I was out here.
“One of my favorite things about going to new places,” Rich is saying, “is how it shows you the different life paths you might be able to take instead. At any one moment, any person in a wonderful country like ours can just uproot his life and start over in whatever way he wishes. It’s a good feeling, even if sometimes I feel like I’m stuck, at least in regards to work. It’s like I forget that I made the choices to be where I am and I can just as easily make choices to get out. And that realization…well, that’s ultimate freedom. One just has to be willing to take the chance, you know? And now that I’m away from it all, I want to be one of those people who’s willing.”
“This is some deep stuff for my first afternoon in Hawaii.”
Rich chuckles. “Agreed. I guess what I mean to say is that I find it very calming being here, and very eye-opening. Sometimes, I truly do contemplate throwing it all away and starting over, of building a life in a place like this where I can just sit on the sand with someone nice and watch the waves to my heart’s content. Sure seems a lot simpler than the life I’m leading back home.”
“I know just what you mean.”
It’s exactly the right moment to stop talking, and so this is exactly what we do. Sprawled out on our backs, side by side in the warm sand, we fold our arms behind our heads and together watch a procession of white, fleecy clouds march by overhead. Before I know it, an hour has dripped away, not a single word having passed between us.
“You know,” Rich says finally, “another thing one learns by being out here is how little material goods really mean in the grand scheme of things. The happiest I’ve ever been is when I’ve been sitting on a beach like this, looking out at the awesome beauty of nature. She’s the most spectacular show on earth, and it’s a shame I spend so much time chasing other fixes, turned into myself and my little life, always desperately trying to rub two sticks together to make four, all so I can make eight, and so on and so forth. So many of us spend the best years and hours of our lives making things, working in factories and in offices, providing services that no one needs and we’d all be much happier without.”
“I think about that all the time. Like, is graphic designing really adding anything to the world? But I’m not sure what I’d do if I didn’t design. What’s the most moral way to live?”
“That,” Rich says, cracking open one of his eyes, both having fallen closed some time before, and looking over at me, “is a question I’m still trying to answer.”
***
The afternoon soon has completely disappeared. Still we haven’t moved, the two of us having long ago lapsed back into total silence. As Rich had said, sometimes it was nice to just sit and take it all in. At times like these, words became utterly useless.
We end up watching the sunset, pushing ourselves up into seated positions as the day begins to darken. The sun, now no longer seeming so far away, is a massive, orange, glowing ball slowly sinking into the ocean. Its rays skip across the waves, the surface of the water sparkling like a million shards of fiery glass have been scattered across it.
“Wow,” Rich says, squinting as he shields his eyes with one hand, “it just gets more and more beautiful by the second.”
It’s like the entire world is holding its breath. No longer are we alone on the sand. Up and down the beach, vacationers are standing in awe of the grand spectacle. Surfers, too, sitting out on their boards in the water, have stopped paddling for waves and are staring fixedly at the quickly dropping sun. Nature was demanding attention from her subjects, and we were powerless not to give in to her cries.
“This…” Rich continues, his voice low and full of emotion, his hand gesturing at the sunset. “This is how simple happiness can be. It has absolutely nothing to do with new clothes or a new television or a new car or fancy dinners or fancy cocktails or a fancy show. It’s got everything to do with moments like these, quiet moments of indescribable beauty shared with a thousand other people all with their separate lives and separate worries and separate hopes and separate dreams and yet here we all stand, together appreciating this beautiful gift called life.”
I look over at Rich, an eyebrow raised in surprise. If there was one thing I could say for sure about this man, it was that he was much different than I had anticipated. He was much…deeper, for lack of a better term. As much as it might be stereotypical of me to say, it wasn’t what one would expect from such a handsome man. But maybe that was why I felt so drawn to him in the first place, why I felt so comfortable around him. Here was a man who understood—or was trying to understand—what it meant to be alive.
Rich, feeling my eyes upon him, turns and looks at me. I’m so struck by the intensity of his gaze that my breath catches in my chest. Never before have I been looked at in the way he’s looking at me now.
As the sun dips its skirts into the ocean, Rich and I stare deep into one another’s eyes. Some pressure is growing inside of me, some ache I don’t understand. I glance down at his lips. I want to kiss this man. When this thought passes through my head, alarm bells begin to sound. I knew what this meant. It meant that I needed to move, that I needed to get up and run away. And yet I can’t. I’m rooted to the spot, my desire too heavy for me to lift.
The world around us has dripped away. For this moment, at least, it’s just the two of us. A hint of a smile appears on Rich’s face. His eyes flicker down to my lips. He leans a little closer.
Please, please don’t kiss me. Please, it will only make things more difficult.
My lips part slightly. I’m barely breathing, just a whisper of air entering and leaving my lungs. Everything in me is begging him to stop. At the same time, I’m hoping he doesn’t.
He leans in a little further, his breath just a ghost of a whisper too.
“I…” I begin.
He’s just a few inches from my face now. He pauses, indecision flickering in his eyes.
“Becca,” he says quietly.
“Yes, Rich?” I breathe.
“Becca.” He swallows heavily. “Will you have dinner with me?”
The outside world comes rushing back in. Suddenly, I can hear every little sound—the wind rustling the palm fronds at the edge of the forest behind us; shouts from several beachgoers tossing a Frisbee back and forth further down the beach; wave after wave roaring forward and crashing onto the sand.
“Dinner?” I echo.
“If you’re hungry, of course.”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding. Slowly I push myself to my feet and brush the sand off of my back and legs.
“Sure,” I say. “I’d love some dinner.”
Rich gets up and dusts himself off. Together we set off towards the resort. Only the tiniest sliver of the sun is still above the horizon, already night having almost completing supplanted the day. A moment later, the last of the sun disappears. Far overhead, several stars twinkle; behind the mountains to the east, the moon is preparing for her grand entrance.
Not a word passes between us as we near the resort, our shoulders sometimes bumping, our hands brushing together as we walk along. I’m deep inside of myself, thinking about the moment that has just passed. For the most part, I’m relieved, though I’d be a fool not to recognize the disappointment I’m feeling too. Well, it was all for the best. I couldn’t get involved, not so soon after having had my life fall apart.
Can’t get involved? What do you think dinner is, you goofball? Especially in a place like this.
Dinner is dinner, I argue back. Friends get dinner all the time. There’s no harm in dinner, is there?
I don’t know, Becca. You tell me.