Chapter Eight #5
Lulu allowed herself to wallow in self-pity.
She would have found solace in hearing about Zoe’s day, in the normalcy of her daughter’s routine.
Shaking out the sleeping bag, she half expected a scorpion to fall out, but when it proved empty, she stuffed herself inside and tucked her backpack under her head.
She gazed up at the freshly salted sky of stars but did not feel full of wonder.
She felt small. Insignificant. And superbly lonely.
From the direction of the cave, Lulu could hear the crunch of footsteps.
“Lu,” Tyler said softly, his shadowy form moving nearer.
“Sorry. I didn’t want to startle you. But I saw you get up and try to use your phone.
I’ve got a signal, if you need one.” Squatting, he held his cell phone to her. “You can use mine.”
Tinges of embarrassment pressed at her ears at the thought of Tyler witnessing her flailing escape from the bat cave, but more than that, she was grateful. The cell came alive in her hand. Only nine p.m., and it felt much later. At least her family might still be awake.
Cradling the phone, she scooted out of her sleeping bag. With a gesture that indicated she should take her time, Tyler wandered away to admire the bowl of stars stirring in the valley as Lulu dialed Aunt Laverne.
She listened, already imagining the balm of her aunt’s voice as it rang and rang.
And rang. She imagined the three of them on that stroll along the moon-sparkled sand and, reluctantly, she hung up.
Lulu considered sending a text to let Laverne know she would be returning in the morning, that running away from her employment woes had just powered her headfirst into new stresses involving falling up hills, down waterfalls, and into a tailspin over…
yes, Tyler Demming. Instead, she wrote: Just saying hi. Big kisses to Zoe. Talk tomorrow.
“Tyler—” she whispered across the expanse and held out his phone to him. At his questioning glance, she said, “Nobody picked up.”
“You can hang on to it. Maybe try again in the morning.”
“Thanks.” Lulu tucked his phone into her backpack and shook out the sleeping bag a second time for good measure. “It’s still too warm to get inside,” she explained, lying on top and making a pillow of her backpack. “I’m fine out here,” she continued. “Better this than the cave.”
“If you don’t mind, I could sit out here awhile. Everybody else is asleep.”
She sat up and shrugged, noncommittal, and made the concession of scooching over to make ample space for him plus a good foot between them.
In the silence that followed, Lulu assessed the black sky, pinpricked with sparkles, and an indistinct nostalgia swept over her.
And then she placed it. That distant court on Bainbridge Island.
The two of them, tennis rackets dangling by their hips, at ease in each other’s company.
He leaned back on his arms and stretched his long legs in front of him, crossed at the ankle.
Catching her glance, he added, “Tomorrow will be easier. No more heights, Alejandro says.”
Tomorrow, she thought, she’d be headed back to Zoe, and then she wouldn’t have to struggle with her feelings toward Tyler anymore, anyway.
Tyler sat up and gathered his arms around his legs, resting his head on his knees.
He looked every bit as sweet and handsome as he did back before she realized he was only one of those things.
“I saw you with your daughter before we left the resort,” he said, and she remembered him noticing her farewell at the time. “I bet you miss her.”
“Yep.” Lulu nodded and offered him a weak smile.
“Have you been away from her before?”
Lulu’s throat had developed a lump. Her distance from Zoe was weighing on her, especially under the lonely cover of starlight.
“A little. But this is the longest.” She wanted to be strong, but the struggle of trying these new things and at the same time missing her daughter were reasonable excuses to return.
In the silence that followed, she waited for him to say, “She’ll be fine.” Or “I’m sure she’s in good hands.” Or “You deserve some time away,” or any of the myriad remarks that could come from the mouth of a guy whose greatest caretaking responsibility had been watering a cactus.
Instead, he said, “I’m sure that’s hard to be away from her. I saw her playing at the pool that first morning, with your aunt. She seems like a funny kid. What’s her name?”
Lulu blinked, remembering a different Lulu-and-Tyler a lifetime ago, hanging out with her whole family at summer picnics and at her high school graduation. “Zoe. She’s three, but she thinks she can do anything.”
“Sounds like her mom.” He smiled. “Zoe. Nice. Are you going to tell her all about your daredevil rappel down a one-hundred-fifty-foot waterfall?”
“You mean my terrified descent down a cascade of death?” She gave him a self-deprecating grin.
“Actually.” Lulu pressed her lips into a tight line.
“I was going to tell my aunt that I’m planning to go back to the resort tomorrow.
And maybe just head back to the States. This is not— Well, it doesn’t feel worth it. ”
Tyler’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and his cheerful expression faltered.
And because she felt like she had done the hard part of bringing it up, she explained, “I’m thinking…I worry I made a mistake. This trip.”
He tipped his head, waiting for her to continue, and in the quiet bubble of the nighttime air, it felt safe to speak her mind.
“I wanted to make a change, you know? Do something different and really push myself. But I mean, being away from Zoe isn’t worth the trade-off.
It feels…lonely.” She had said it, and now the silence stretched.
Lulu scooted down on the grass and lay with her head on the sleeping bag, looking at the stars.
His low voice floated over her. “I know what you mean. It’s been…a lot of leaping into the unknown, right?”
Lulu tipped her head toward him, questioning.
“I’m sure you’ve heard,” he said. “About why I’m here.
I’ve never done a tour like this before, or let’s face it, I’ve never coached pickleball before.
I’ve played for thousands of hours; but playing and telling other people how to do it, those are two different things.
” Lulu nodded. She had been so wrapped up in her own story that his insecurities came as a surprise.
“So it’s a lot of unknowns. And trying new things is hard for me, too.
Like, for example, I really thought that trust walk was a cool idea. But apparently, not such a good idea.”
Lulu laughed.
He picked a long strand of grass and peeled it, placing the vulnerable white stem between his teeth. “Not that I should have any say in it. But maybe give it another day. Before you make any rash decisions.”
“Tyler, are you trying to talk me off the ledge?” She rolled her eyes. “Bad choice of words after my rappelling today,” she kidded.
He gave her a slow smile. His voice was deep and measured. “I’m just saying, give it another chance. One more day.” He tilted his head, enticing her. “Tomorrow’s a beach day,” he said.
Lulu remained skeptical. “And then what is the plan? The next day. After that.”
“You’ve got pickleball coming up.” He was uncharacteristically silent after that.
“And…”
His voice hitched. “And white water rafting.”
Lulu exhaled and closed her eyes, taking a moment to quash her inner no-way-in-hell.
Tyler unfolded his legs and lay on his side, propping himself with his elbow.
“And me,” he said, raising one arm to the sky to highlight his presence.
“I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you stayed.” His tone grew quieter, more serious, and he touched his fingers to the bare skin on her arm. “I want you to stay.”
He left his hand there a moment, and Lulu, hyperaware of his touch, felt like that spot of skin was a conduit into her whole body.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to give herself a moment for inner clarity to spin and do a runback, but still she had zero chance of fielding this lob to the back of the pickleball court.
Here he was, lending her his phone, keeping her company on a lonely hillside, and urging her to give herself time to get accommodated.
Need she remind herself that Tyler Demming was married? Married!
Because this was flirting, wasn’t it? Had she been out of the game for so long that not-flirting-but-just-being-nice seemed like flirting?
Of course this was flirting. She recognized it from the reaction sending sizzles shimmering down her torso and shooting appreciative dopamine hits directly into her brain stem.
Ugh! Why did being the recipient of flirtation feel so good?
And why, when she finally got to be on the receiving end of it, did this amazing sensation have to come from the one guy who was one hundred percent unavailable? But. He was flirting, right?
The need to be sure hit her like a pickleball to the forehead. Just ask him, Lulu.
“Are you flirting with me?”
Tyler’s face opened with surprise. In the dim light, she saw his lips vibrate, heard the intake of breath. A long moment passed, and Lulu felt her embarrassment tickle behind her ears.
“Yeah,” he said, and then more intently, “Yes. Yes, I am.”
Mouth open, she stared at his handsome face, half flattered and sixty percent furious. She had been right. And Lulu loved being right. But also…What?!
“Tyler.” Shaking her head, she scoffed in disbelief at his gall. “Tyler,” she said again, her voice heavy. The rubber band in her heart stretched thin. She did not want him to stop. But it wasn’t right. It just wasn’t right. “Can you…not?”
He blinked at her, and a flash of hurt played against his confident features. Tyler pressed his lips together and his gaze shot to the grassy patch of earth. “Okay. Sure, Lu.”