Chapter Twenty-One Sera
Chapter Twenty-One
Sera
For the first week of this very new situation, we take it slow, or, well, as slow as we can.
Luke drives me to work on Wednesday, and we sneak out to the Beach at the End of the Universe that evening.
It’s sweltering, so we go in the ocean. I stand in the shallows up to my waist, careful to keep my monitor dry, as Luke swims short laps out and back, never straying too far from my side.
Things are still tender, but other than that, it’s like old times.
Except now, when I get the desire to brush his hair out of his eyes, drop a kiss on the corner of his mouth, or lay my hand on his chest—I can.
The sun is just beginning to sink toward the canal when I catch him staring, his eyes shining.
“What?” I wade a little deeper and tip my head back carefully so just my hair gets wet. Luke swims in closer.
“I’d like to take you out this weekend.”
“We’re out now.”
“On a real date, Sera. The way you’re supposed to.”
“I don’t think we’re supposed to do anything,” I tease, though I like the idea. “But sounds fun.”
“Great. I’ll make a plan, you just show up.”
“You have to give me some details. I need to know what to wear,” I insist.
His eyes drop from my face down my body, half-hidden by the water. I splash a little water at his face.
“Hey, eyes up here, mister.”
“But there are so many other good places to look,” he says, his hands landing on my hips. I lean in and give him one chaste kiss on the lips, then disentangle myself and start heading back to our towels.
*
On Saturday, I follow Luke’s instructions to dress up and meet him at Nyeman’s at closing time.
I expect the shop to be quiet, since it’s almost five thirty, but it’s a hive of activity.
Paula is at her desk in the corner with a young couple, the woman bouncing a fussy baby in her arms. They must be interior design clients.
There’s a line at the register five people deep, and another ten people milling about.
I wave hi to Paula but don’t interrupt her, instead moving through the store to the back, looking for Luke.
I find him helping a couple with a chest of drawers.
He looks tired, but when he spots me, he grins and his eyes brighten, like I’ve turned on a light above him just by showing up. The feeling lights me up in return.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” he replies, strapping the chest to a dolly. “Give me like ten?”
“Take whatever time you need. I’m early.”
The couple follows Luke out of the antiques section, and I trail them, looking around at the furniture and tchotchkes.
Luke heads out the door to load the chest into the couple’s car, and when he comes back in, he’s called over to the register.
He helps the new cashier, Sam, replace the receipt paper, then gift wraps the item and hands it off.
An older woman comes over asking about carpentry work.
He nods and digs under the register for a clipboard.
As he’s writing down what she needs and looking through his notes, Sam struggles with the next person in line.
Luke notices and quickly puts the clipboard down, asking the woman to write down her address and phone number.
He gently asks Sam to step aside and rings up the next few people, talking through what he’s doing while she watches.
Paula comes up next to me as I’m fiddling with the tassels of an embroidered pillow.
“He’s good, isn’t he?” she says, turning to look back at Luke. “I don’t know what we’d do without him.” I agree, but a part of me wonders if she can’t see how stressed he is, how unhappy. “Have fun on your date.”
“Thanks.” I smile, feeling suddenly shy.
She grins and turns toward the back stairs. “I’ve got to get the boys home.”
When the last customers leave and Sam clocks out, Luke locks the door and closes the blinds. I make my way over to him.
“I have to change,” he says, “and book that house call, then we can go.”
“Okay, but first…” I catch his hand to stop him from rushing by and pull him into the kitchenware corner.
He almost fights me, but I put a finger on his lips and he stops, that smile from before easing out of him.
He backs me up against a shelf of copper pots, careful not to knock anything over.
I lace my hands around his neck and pull him in for a kiss.
I feel his shoulders relax as his arms loop around my waist.
“Keep that thought,” he says, playing with the straps at the back of my dress.
I put my arms down. “I’ll be sitting right here when you’re ready.” I point to one of the chairs in front of Paula’s desk. “No rushing.”
I take a seat, flipping through one of the old magazines while I wait. Luke comes back in tan slacks and a short-sleeved light blue button-down that perfectly cuffs his biceps. I stand up and smooth out my dress, hoping I didn’t wrinkle it.
“Ooh, fancy,” I say. “So where are we going?”
“I made a reservation out in Brewster.” He’s excited and keeps messing up the tie he’s trying to put on. I reach out and stop his anxious hands.
“You don’t need the tie, Luke.”
He looks at me nervously. “It’s a nice place, and you look…
” He casts his eyes down the dress, something Maddy helped me find yesterday since the yellow dress is cute but not right for a nice dinner.
It’s a silky dark brown slip dress with spaghetti straps.
I couldn’t wear a bra with it because it’s backless.
I was nervous about wearing it, but Maddy convinced me.
As Luke’s cheeks go red, I’m glad I listened to her.
I step back and do a little twirl, the asymmetrical hem making a small circle. “Amazing,” he finishes.
“Thank you,” I reply, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Time to go?”
He nods and we head out back to his truck. He clears a few things off the bench seat and tells me to toss Oliver’s skateboard in the back. As I do, I catch sight of a few graphic design books on the seat with sticky notes lining their edges.
At the restaurant, there’s no parking, and we have to let the valet take the truck.
The first indication that when Luke said nice, he meant it.
I’m immediately self-conscious of the itchy red patch of skin on my chest from the monitor that I mailed back to Dr. Lee this afternoon.
I haven’t had any more arrhythmias or dizzy spells.
Maybe I won’t take a bad turn soon. Maybe I can still have a great summer here and next summer in Paris.
I try not to think too hard about it so I don’t jinx myself.
Luke rubs his hands on the sides of his slacks, nervous, as he gives the host his name. She tells us it’ll just be a few minutes.
“If you’d like to look at today’s specials, we have a menu over in the courtyard.” She gestures to a small outdoor seating area where there’s a little stand with the menus behind glass. We step over and I lean against Luke while we read the menu.
“There are no prices,” I say, a little confused.
“Don’t worry about it,” Luke says, though the wrinkle between his eyes says otherwise. “It’s on me.”
I keep reading, and everything sounds like something Maddy would love to try, but nothing that I’m comfortable with. A man and a woman come up next to us and we make space for them to read too.
“Oh, look, they have a lobster en papillote with truffles!” the woman exclaims. My Duolingo French is progressing, but I have no idea what she means. Is that a dessert? I shoot Luke a look, and he’s just as wide-eyed as I feel. He glances over at the guy, who is indeed wearing a tie.
“Luke,” I say, pulling him away from the menu.
“I should’ve worn—” he starts, reaching to his neck.
“No,” I say, drawing his attention back to me. “Can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
“This is too fancy. I feel so weird that there aren’t prices, and I do not want to eat what sounds like lobster chocolates unless Maddy is forcing me to because her career depends on it.”
“But…” Luke looks over at the hostess, who’s leading two elderly men dressed to the nines inside the dark, candlelit restaurant. “We have a reservation.”
“It’s fine,” I say, sliding my hand into his. “I’m sure someone’s waiting, and they’ll be over the moon to have us give it up.”
“You sure?” Luke asks. He looks down at me and brushes a stray piece of hair out of my eyes.
“Oh my god, yes. I’ll eat anywhere with you, but maybe not here, tonight?”
He relaxes and lets out a little laugh. “Thank god,” he says, pulling on my hand and guiding me out of the small courtyard. The hostess catches us as we try to sneak away.
“Oh, are you leaving?” she asks. Another couple appears behind us, asking if they can have our place.
“Yes,” I say as Luke tugs on my hand, “just remembered I’m allergic to seafood and butter—and ties!” Luke snorts and tugs me farther away. “Sorry for the confusion! Bye!”
We break into a run once we’re at the sidewalk and stop at the corner, laughing and catching our breaths. Luke untucks his shirt and undoes one of the top buttons. I take out the clip that’s hurting my scalp, and nervously check my watch. My heart rate slows quickly, and I relax.
“Better?” I ask, running my hands through my hair. Luke watches me and then looks back over my shoulder.
“Yes, but we will need the car keys.”
“Ah, that.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Luke retrieves his truck, and once we’re in the cab I move over on the bench seat and buckle myself in the middle so I can be right next to him.
“So, where to?” he asks.
“How about that seafood shack.” I point to a sign that leads to a local beach.
“Picnic on the beach?” he says with a grimace, like it’s not special enough.
“Yes.” I nod and fiddle with the cassette and the cord that connects to my phone, putting on Cam’s band’s EP, which has grown on me recently.
“If you’re sure,” Luke says, taking the right.
“I’m sure.”
The beach is emptying out at this time of day, and the sky is promising a truly great sunset.
There’s a thin scattering of clouds to the west, and it’s already a little peachy around the edges.
We order a mixed plate from the seafood stand and milkshakes, and when our order is up, I lead the way down to some rocks that offer a flat space for us to sit.
We eat while the food is still hot, and I try not to drink my whole milkshake too fast, though it has nothing on Maddy’s peanut butter–chocolate one.
“So, the shop looked pretty busy,” I say once we’ve slowed down.
Luke nods, happy. “Yeah, I’m glad. We need all that summer business because it gets so quiet in the offseason. Mom’s got a feature coming up in a local magazine too, for a house she did in Harwich. It’s a huge achievement for her, like a dream come true.”
“Wow. That’s great.” I try to find a simple way to ask what I want to ask, which is if he’s living his dream. “Maybe when things calm down, you’ll be able to spend more time on your art?” I say, thinking back to those well-loved art books I saw in his truck.
“Maybe,” Luke says with a shrug. “But helping my mom and the town is more important right now.”
I look out onto the water. The sky is darkening, the marine layer clouds moving in.
“You okay?” Luke asks, nudging my knee.
I don’t want to push him too hard, but I also don’t want to let it go. I turn back to him. “Yeah,” I say. “I just worry you’re letting your passions be overshadowed.” At the word passions, he shifts closer to me.
“I don’t need you to worry about me—you worry about staying healthy.” He brushes my hair back over my shoulder.
It’s a nice thought, but what’s life without worries, particularly over the people who matter?
“I’m going to worry no matter what. It’s my right. As your—girlfriend.” I try the word out slowly, not wanting to freak either of us out.
“All right,” he says, taking the empty fry container out of my hands and putting it to the side. He leans in and cups my cheek, drops his thumb onto my bottom lip. “But say that again.”
“Worry,” I tease, kissing his thumb. He rubs my bottom lip again and sparks shoot through my toes.
“Girlfriend,” he says, coming closer, replacing his thumb with his mouth. He bites on my bottom lip, then pulls away, waiting.
“Girlfriend,” I say, breathless. He leans in and kisses me again, his arms framing my hips. I keep myself upright with one arm against the rocks and slip the other under the back of his shirt, wanting to feel his skin.
I guess we’re done talking for the night.