Dirty Sweet Cowboy

“Oh, I’m so relieved!” I smile, stuffing my mouth with the rest of the juicy, perfectly smoked flavor. “Because this is really great !”

He winks at me. “I’m glad you like it.” We eat in a comfortable silence for a while, savoring the simple, rustic, yet sophisticated flavors of locally sourced meats and cheeses. Even the pears have that non-mass-produced look about them, with a beautiful sun-ripened color and a few intriguing lumps and bumps here and there .

My phone buzzes two more times, and I notice his doing the same thing. He’s trying to be polite, but his eyes flit toward it again and again .

“I was thinking about taking a walk. Maybe along the beach?” I offer, basically suggesting that we spend some time apart. As soon as I say it, I feel some relief too. I wouldn’t mind a little personal time to figure out what I want, what I’m ready for, what he’s offering .

“Oh, terrific idea, you’ll love it,” he agrees immediately. I sense that he was hoping I’d say something like that, or was trying to figure out how to say it on his own. “I’ve got a few things I need to take care of anyway.” I finish off the pile of blueberries, doused in sweet cream with a hint of agave. Each one is sweeter than the last, and I realize I’m completely full, bordering on uncomfortably full. A walk is going to be a great idea .

He leans back in his chair, extending his strong, muscular arm to point down the beach .

“If you go that way, you’ll eventually come to a little town. Not much more than a collection of piers and some fishing boats… a couple antique stores I think.” He gestures up the beach the other way with one hand shading his eyes. “If you go the other way, you’ll run into some rocks, some tidal pools I think. Honestly, I haven’t explored the beaches too much .”

“No?” I marvel, staring out at the unusual black sand, watching the birds swoop back and forth. “I would think you would have had this whole place memorized by now .”

He smiles wistfully. “Sadly, I don’t have as much time for that sort of thing as I’d like. Feel free to take pictures. Take notes, even .”

I stand up from my chair, and he reaches out and takes my hand, tugging me down for a kiss. It’s such a sweet thing to do, so romantic. A little more Prince Charming, right? I lean into the kiss, enjoying his scent and flavor again, letting his taste fill my mouth .

Taking my phone off the table, I take the stairs down to the beach. The surf gets dramatically louder as I get closer. Somehow it wasn’t nearly as loud on the patio. Waves tumble over each other, splashing aggressively, sometimes six or eight feet into the air .

But it’s a warm day, even the breeze blowing my skirt around is not too cool or anything, so I decide to head toward the town. I’m sort of curious about this picturesque image I have in my head, of a fishing town on the black sand beach. I don’t know if I’ve ever even seen a fishing town, really .

The sand is gritty, a larger grain. Volcanic, I suppose. I stay close to the water, where the sand is wet and easier to walk on. My Keds are water resistant, but I don’t want to get too close to the actual surf and risk a bunch of blisters .

I walk for a long time, just luxuriating in the sensory overload of the ocean. The salty smell, the mist of water in the air that’s turning my wavy hair into a coarse halo of curls, the bright blue sky, the thunder of the waves. Something about this combination makes me thoroughly happy. Completely satisfied .

As I come around a slow curve, I see the town. It’s more or less how I pictured it, and it’s kind of adorable. Two docks jut out into the water with tall, homely boats rocking back and forth. I see a few hand-painted signs along the boardwalk, and some candy-colored houses nestled up toward the redwoods. It’s a perfectly California coast kind of place .

There is one antique store, with a plump old man sitting behind a counter, his half-moon glasses resting way down on his nose, reading a paperback as thick as my arm. He smiles when I come in, but he doesn’t say anything .

It’s a collection of knickknacks, buoys, and maritime whatnot. I didn’t bring my purse so I can’t buy anything, but it’s still fun to poke around, to inhale the musty, familiar-to-somebody smell of all these old things .

Not a whole lot else to see in the town. There is a single bar. If I had brought my purse, I would happily go for a beer, sit on a bench and watch the fishing boats do their thing, but I didn’t .

Still, I find a bench looking out at the boats and sit down. Instantly, my phone buzzes again .

Fine.

Before I really think it through, the call is connecting. I put the phone up to my ear, pushing my hair back with my other hand and squinting at the hazy horizon, so far away .

“I’ve been trying to reach you,” is the first thing he says .

“Hello to you too, Aden,” I chirp .

“Where are you right now ?”

I swallow hard. I really should’ve thought this out before I took the call. What am I going to say? But instantly, I decide what I’m not going to say. I’m definitely not telling the whole truth .

“I just got a new job. I-I just started training. Today .”

“A new job?” he repeats, and I’m not sure if he’s happy or disbelieving. “Wow, well I guess… congratulations .”

“Thanks! Actually, I need to go get — ”

“—did you see Ethan? I know he was there .”

I thought for a second he wasn’t going to mention Ethan, but I guess I was wrong. I slump against the wooden bench, digging the toe of my sneaker against the flaky dock boards .