The Summer Seekers

“Then it’s a good thing Kathleen encouraged you to take a break.”

She sensed that some sort of response was needed, so she kept it neutral. “Family life can be all consuming, especially when you have teenagers. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“I understand. Why do you think I’m single?” His smile was so compelling she found herself smiling back.

“I thought maybe you stayed single so that you could cause the maximum amount of gossip amongst the locals.”

“There is pleasure in that, I admit.” He waded a little deeper. “Do you want to swim?”

“Here? Now?”

“Why not?”

“I’m not dressed for it.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you swim in your clothes. Leave them on the beach. Keep your underwear on if you’re shy.” He said it so casually that for a brief moment she considered it.

Then she came to her senses.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Swimming is the most natural thing in the world. And swimming in the sea is the best feeling. What’s ridiculous about it?” He studied her. “Do you ever do anything spontaneous, Liza?”

“No.” Although coming to Oakwood Cottage had been spontaneous. And so had her decision to visit him today to apologize in person. Both actions had required her to dig deep. “Occasionally.”

“And how does it turn out when you do?” He was standing disturbingly close to her, and she took a step back, flustered by his teasing.

“I’m not sure. Ask me in another week.” Instantly she was embarrassed. That made it sound as if she was expecting to meet up regularly.

“I’ll hold you to that. Come and swim on my beach. Bring your bathing suit.”

“Are you staying here all summer?”

“Until September. Then back to LA.”

She couldn’t imagine living such a globetrotting lifestyle. “Why hadn’t you written for a year?”

He paused. “I lost someone close to me.” He turned and strolled back to the shore, leaving her wishing she’d kept silent.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Death is part of life, isn’t it? Doesn’t make it easier, though.” He crouched down by a rock pool. “Seaweed is algae, not a plant. Did you know that?”

“No.” She crouched down next to him, but it didn’t feel awkward. It felt companionable.

She was ashamed of herself for all the assumptions and judgments she’d made about him.

The pool was teeming with life. Tiny hermit crabs darted under the shelter of the seaweed. Limpets and mussels clung to the rocks, and anemones wafted in the still of the water. She could have watched it for hours, but the tide was licking at their heels, reminding them that it was about to claim back the beach.

Finn rose. “We should go before the tide turns. Having already had a run-in with the police, I don’t want to add the coast guard to the list.”

“You get an extra-massive lemon meringue pie if you have to call the coast guard on my account.”

He laughed. “I’m tempted to throw myself in the water. Who taught you to cook lemon meringue pie?”

“I taught myself. My father was a practical cook—” She paused. “Actually he was a terrible cook. He cooked on the highest heat, so everything was burned. My mother traveled a lot, so I took over. I enjoyed it, but to alleviate boredom I liked to experiment.”