Rising Tides Read online

  I held up the shell and offered it to him. “Another one to add to your collection.”

  “Don’t you want it?” he asked. A soft breeze lifted his hair away from his face.

  I shook my head and placed it in his open palm. “I have the one you gave me. That’s enough.”

  As I pulled away, Tyler’s fingers closed around the shell. “You’re a hard woman to please.”

  I looked up at the perfect azure sky spread to infinity like a soft blue blanket and thought, Just give me more time. I stared at the heavens as though the sky would ripple in response to my one last wish. Stillness basted the small scattering of clouds in place. The answer is still no, isn’t it?

  Unable to bear the weight of perfection canopied over our heads, I turned my attention toward the sailboat sitting in the sand in the distance. The rainbow-colored sail flapped in the soft breeze.

  “What time do you need to be back?” Tyler asked as we approached the catamaran.

  I reached out and touched the sail, tracing three rectangles of color—blue, green, red. With each new color I half-expected my fingers to feel something different and distinct. Instead, it all felt the same—coarse and hardened from the wind and water.

  Tyler grabbed the life-jacket I’d worn the previous day and handed it to me. “It should still fit right. What time do you need to be back?” Tyler asked again, pushing the boat toward the water.

  With slightly trembling fingers, I accepted the jacket and put it on. “It doesn’t matter.” I looked down at the tracks the catamaran hulls had left in the sand.

  Tyler straightened from pushing as the bow touched water. Frowning, he stared at my face as though trying to read a book in a foreign language. His hands rested on the edge of the tramp as he stood in shin-deep water. “Is everything all right?” he asked in a quiet voice.

  “It’s fine. Are you ready to start sailing?”

  “I guess that is what we came here to do, isn’t it?” Tyler pushed the boat farther out. When the water came to his knees, he said, “Now climb on the front of the left side.”

  I stepped on the hull and climbed onto the tramp, sitting in the place he had suggested. After a moment or two more pushing us into deeper water, he climbed on and grabbed the rudder stick, shifting our direction slightly. Although the sail had only been half full of wind before, the moment we changed directions, the sail billowed outward, full. As the wind filled the sail, he pulled the line tighter, and the boat sped up as the wind hummed off the hulls.

  From the shore, Larkin barked at us, running toward the waves and then away. More than once, he cocked his head to the side as though expecting one of us to answer him. Both of us stared at him. A moment later, he turned and walked down the beach toward Tyler’s.

  “That was quite a show,” I said, staring at the empty beach.

  “Yeah,” Tyler agreed. “I guess he wanted to come, too.” Glancing at the sail, he cinched the line tighter, and our side of the boat rose. My fingers snapped down on the metal rail, and I clenched my teeth, trying not to panic despite the awkward feeling washing over me.

  Tyler looked from the sail to my face and then to my white-knuckled fists. “Nice death grip you’ve got there.”

  I looked down at my hand and blushed. “I keep thinking we’re going to tip over. It sure feels like we might.”

  He reached out and rubbed the top of my hands until my grip slackened. “Don’t worry. If we’re going to turn over, you’ll know well in advance. The rising of the hull is normal. It’s the way to build up speed in a cat.”

  “You forget,” I said, smiling weakly, “You have a clumsy person on board.”

  “Don’t worry. You keep reminding me.” Tyler glanced up at the sail. “What a perfect day to go sailing. There’s enough wind to keep us moving, and the water’s not choppy.”

  I closed my eyes and savored the feel of the air caressing my skin. The momentum of the catamaran was smooth, reassuring in a gentle sway as it cut through the small waves. Always before, I’d felt nauseated when I closed my eyes while moving. I couldn’t sleep in cars when someone else drove. But this time my body gave into the peace afforded by the ocean. “There’s nothing else like this,” I said softly.

  Silence filled the air, and once I realized a reply wasn’t coming, I opened my eyes and peered at Tyler. Immediately I blushed as I realized he had been staring at me. His eyes were narrowed, hooded by his eyebrows, and his mouth twisted into a concentrated frown, as though examining each line and shadow crossing my face.

  When I looked at him, he smiled and looked at the ocean. “You finally look relaxed, Kelly. I might make a sailor of you yet.”

  I laughed and pulled my legs closer to my body. “If you say so.” Rubbing my fingers against the wetsuit, I asked, “So what’s a diaper? You did promise you’d explain that one, you know.”

  “So I did.” He pulled in the sail slightly and we sped up. For just a second, my fingers locked upon the rail before loosening to their normal grip.

  “Well?”

  “A diaper is a small piece of tough fabric that is designed to fit around your bottom side like a diaper.”

  I snorted. “And why would anyone want to wear this?”

  Tyler pointed to the side of the cat we both sat upon. “You said that it felt pretty uneven when the hull lifts out of the water. Most people who sail cats like to really get the hull out of the water. In order to counter-balance that rising motion, the sailors have to lean out from the hull.”

  My mouth dropped open. Then I closed it and frowned at him. I was about to speak when he waved me into silence. “Now just a minute. Let me finish. The diaper is fastened to one of those steel wires,” he said, pointing upward. “That way the sailor doesn’t have as many problems with balance. It’s called flying the hulls, Kelly.”

  “Not if I did it, it wouldn’t.” I replied, pushing a strand of hair from my eyes. “I hope you left the diapers at home. Sorry, but I don’t think you want to see how much trouble I can get into with that one.”

  Tyler tilted his head back and started laughing. “Yeah, I gave you a break. I didn’t think you were quite ready for that extreme yet, but next time is a different story.”

  Tyler cinched down on the sail again, and the hull lifted even higher. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine me standing on the hull. The picture never came, but something else surfaced, an image of the two of us. With Tyler I had no past. I had no disease. I didn’t have to think about the future. Just now.

  That was all I had.

  “Come here, Kelly. I want to show you something.” I opened my eyes as Tyler patted a spot on the tramp next to him. I frowned, and he shrugged. “Look, no diapers. You’re perfectly safe.”

  “With you that’s a relative concept.” I scooted next to him. Once I had settled, Tyler placed the rudder stick into my hands. “Oh, no. No, no. I’m not driving.” I tried to give it back to him, but he moved his hands away so I couldn’t let go.

  “Yes, you are. Move it to the left a little.” In trying to respond, I moved it to the right. “No, the other left, Kelly. That’s it.” He looked at the sail. “See, you’re even keeping us at the right angle to the wind.”

  “How long have you been sailing?” I asked, gripping the stick tightly as though I were afraid the boat would take off.

  “Four years.” Tyler touched my hand, stroking gently. “Loosen up. This boat isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Then why am I steering?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Okay, this boat isn’t going anywhere you don’t want it to go.”

  “Fair enough.” I peered at his neck, searching for the leather strap he usually wore.

  After a few seconds of feeling my gaze, he finally said, “What are you looking at?” He leveled his eyes and smiled at me. “You should be paying attention to where we’re going.” He patted my knee.

  “I was just wondering if you were wearing the sand dollar.”

  His shoulders stiffened. “Of course I a
m.” He reached into the neck of his wet suit and pulled it out. “It’s my good luck charm. If I weren’t wearing it, somebody just might end up overboard.”

  I looked at the sand dollar, staring at the bleached shell against the black wet suit. “It’s a beautiful shell.”

  Tyler took a deep breath. His cheeks turned an uncomfortable shade of crimson. “Yeah. My sister was partial to them.” He averted his gaze.

  “Have I said something wrong?”

  He smiled half-heartedly and shook his head. “No, Kelly. Everything is fine.” He loosened the sail slightly, and the cat slowed down. The movement of his body seemed tense, much less fluid than moments ago. “I think we should probably come about, Kelly. We’ve gone out pretty far.”

  My heart thundered, and I wondered what I had said that could have caused such tension. As I handed him the rudder stick, our fingers collided. “I knew you were going to say that eventually. You steer.”

  While I was scooting back to my original position, I heard Tyler say, “We’ve been through this once before. Are you comfortable with coming about?”

  As I took my corner I nodded. “Oh yeah. I love big metal poles swinging at me. I could make a hobby out of it.”

  “Great.” Tyler grinned and tucked the sand dollar back into his wetsuit. His shoulders rolled forward as though he were finally relaxing again, as though whatever threat had come and gone. “On the count of three, then.”

  “One,” I said brightly from my crawling position.

  “Two,” he said, with his hand on the sail.

  “Three.” I felt him yank the rudder, and as I saw the boom swing toward me, I felt my heart hammering in my chest. I ducked under it and crawled to the other side.

  After it had swung across, Tyler switched sides, too, and immediately cinched down the line attached to the sail. “Nice job, Kelly. You stayed dry.”

  “And felt like I was going to have a heart attack.” I crossed my legs as the boat picked up speed. Leaning over the edge of the boat, I dipped my hand into the water. The cold shock made me want to pull back at first, but then my skin adjusted to the temperature. “This is nothing like riding in a motor boat. It’s so smooth. The waves don’t seem so noticeable.”

  “Yeah,” Tyler agreed. “It’s a whole other animal. I’ve had lots of people get sick on the motor boats, but most of them don’t mind the cats so much.”

  “So you’d be an accountant if you hadn’t fallen in love with the beach?” I lifted my hand and shook it at him, spraying him with cold water.

  “Yes and be careful,” he warned. “There’s a whole ocean you could be swimming in, Kelly.”

  “Been there, done that,” I said, staring at the red highlights in his hair. The dark honey tone matched his tanned skin. “Somehow I just can’t imagine you in an office.”

  He smiled broadly. “Me either. What about you? What would you do if you hadn’t fallen in love with painting?”

  “An average 8-to-five secretary at your service,” I replied, touching my chest as I laughed. “Except this secretary couldn’t type to save her soul. Most people don’t approve of the hunt-and-peck method.”

  “That is a problem, Kelly.”

  “Just to the person I was completing paperwork for.”

  Tyler glanced up at the sail. “True. So what brought you here?”

  “Gary’s job,” I said stiffly, looking out into the ocean. In the distance, I could see the shore we headed towards. From here, it appeared there were no distinct lines separating the land from the water, adding to the illusion of the water’s infinity.

  “You don’t sound too happy about it.” Tyler replied. “Do you dislike his job?”

  “His job is fine. It’s the other stuff, I guess.” I looked at the gold band still on my finger and fought the temptation to remove it and cast it out into the dark water. “Have you ever been married?”

  “No.” He pulled the line in, tightening the sail. The boat sped up. “Never even been engaged.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked, folding my hands in my lap.

  “Is this a trick question?” He smirked as he reached into the water and splashed me.

  “No. Just one to satisfy my curiosity.”

  Tyler brushed his fingers through his hair. “I guess I never met anyone I thought I couldn’t live without. Maybe I’m expecting it to be like the day I saw the ocean. I knew I had to stay here. It was where my heart belonged.”

  “Gee, a modern-day romantic.” I shook my head in disbelief.

  Tyler pulled in more line, and the boat sped up. “I like the blood and guts testosterone stuff, too.”

  I touched my chest in mock relief. “Whew. I was beginning to believe in miracles again.”

  Tyler pointed at the shore ahead. “Believe all you want. I’m going to get you to land without getting you wet.”

  “I love a man with confidence,” I replied, staring at the beach spread large and welcoming in front of us. Larkin saw us from where he sat on the wooden deck of Tyler’s house. His ears pricked upward, and he darted down the stairs, charging toward the water.

  When the water was knee-deep, Tyler pulled up the rudders and jumped off the hull. He guided the sailboat toward the shore while I stayed on the tramp. Tyler swept his arm outward, gesturing to the sand. “Viola, madam, sand instead of surf.”

  I rolled my eyes and swung my legs off the hull before standing. “That’s a horrible French accent you’re got there.”

  Tyler touched his chest and staggered backward as though mortally wounded. “Such brute honesty.” He frowned in mock offense, and then wagged a finger at me. “Hey, maybe that’s why nobody will go out on a date with me. Do you think?”

  “Yes, I think.” Larkin jumped up on me, taking me by surprise. I stepped backward and stumbled. Seizing the moment, the husky placed his paws on my chest and licked my face mercilessly. Every time I tried to block, the dog would move his head and give me another slobbery kiss.

  “Tyler, help me!” I called out in exasperation as I rolled over.

  “But you just insulted my French, Kel.” Tyler said, lowering the sail onto the tramp. “You shouldn’t offend the people you might want to help you.”

  When he spoke the nickname Gary had often used, my whole body stiffened. I gently pushed at Larkin, but he wouldn’t budge. Tyler latched his fingers around Larkin’s collar and pulled him away. “That’s enough, boy.”

  Larkin barked a couple of times and then headed down the shore, chasing two gulls which had landed nearby.

  Tyler offered his hand, but I rejected it, preferring to stand on my own. Then I dusted off my backside, avoiding Tyler’s gaze.

  “Was it something I said?” he asked quietly, sitting on the hull. His face was flushed, and he looked undeniably frustrated, with his fingers drumming anxiously on the fiberglass.

  I stared at his face, focusing on his bewildered expression. “Yeah, it was. But you didn’t realize it. Don’t call me Kel. Please.” I massaged my neck, trying to work out the tensed muscles.

  “Fair enough.” He pointed at the house. “Why don’t we go inside so you can slip back into your clothes? I know wetsuits aren’t the most comfortable things to wear.”

  “You’re right,” I said, nodding. As we headed back to the house, I looked down at the sand and spotted several more small shells. Bending, I picked them up. Tyler noticed what I was doing and helped. Between the two of us, we collected a handful and carried them inside.

  “So why does that nickname bother you so much?” Tyler slid the patio door open.

  “It’s what Gary calls me all the time.” I smiled weakly, wondering if that sounded as though it were a private name I reserved for Gary. Or would he see beyond and realize I didn’t want him to call me that because I didn’t want to be reminded of my husband?

  Tyler closed the door behind us. “Here, let me have the shells, and I’ll wash them.” He held out his hand and I dumped them into his rounded palm. “Speaking of Gary, what time do y
ou need to leave?” Instead of looking at me, he sorted through the shells I’d given him.

  “After sunset, I guess,” I replied. “It really doesn’t matter. Gary’s pretty absorbed in his work. And I really wanted to spend some time at the beach.” I picked up the neat pile I’d folded my clothing into and walked back into the bathroom. After I’d changed, I headed back into the living room and sat in a chair. “Would you rather I went somewhere else, Tyler? I don’t want to interfere with any plans you might have made.”

  Tyler rinsed the shells and laid them on paper towels to dry. As I spoke, he set the last shell down and looked up at me. “No, Kelly. It’s not about my plans. I just don’t want Gary to feel I’m invading his space.”

  “I’m not a territory, and you’re not invading.” For just a moment, I thought about telling him the whole story about this marriage, but when I realized I’d have to reveal my illness, I clamped my mouth shut. I wasn’t ready to tell him about that. So it was a part of me. It wasn’t the best part, that was for sure, and I considered this something to reveal on a need-to-know basis.

  “I’ve got my paints in the car. I think I’ll watch the sun set or something. Maybe it’ll give me some ideas.” I walked to the door. “I hung the wetsuit on the back of the door.”

  “Great,” Tyler said. He peered up from the shells. “Maybe you could paint something for me sometime.” He yanked a paper towel from the dispenser under a cabinet and dried his hands.

  “Sure. I’ll do a seascape for you.” I slid the door open and stepped outside. For just a second, I glanced over my shoulder and found the path of Tyler’s blue eyes leveled at me. A painful frown tugged at his mouth, and his shoulders sagged slightly. His body looked. . . empty.

  He raised his left hand and waved. I waved back and walked slowly down the steps. Larkin met me at the halfway point and sniffed at my hands. “Are you coming to watch me paint?” I asked the dog.