Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
Kiera
The salty breeze wrapped around Kiera as she balanced on her paddleboard, the gentle waters of Mission Bay rocking her like a cradle. The sun had climbed higher in the sky, its rays warm against her skin as she adjusted her stance. Maggie paddled lazily beside her, her sunglasses glinting as she tilted her face up toward the sun, while Danica floated a little farther ahead, her paddle cutting smooth arcs through the calm water.
"This is the life," Maggie declared, stretching her arms dramatically and nearly toppling off her board. She righted herself with a laugh. "No screaming kids. Just us and these unsteady boards ready to dump us into dark, depthless water.”
“Do you guys think there are sharks in here?” Danica asked, staring off to the side of her paddleboard.
“Probably,” Kiera answered.
“What? Really?” Danica looked up at Kiera frantically. “Like, shark sharks?”
“Shark sharks? As opposed to regular sharks?" Kiera responded with a grin.
"They’re actually fairly harmless,” Maggie said. "More people are killed by donkeys each year than sharks."
“Even Spielberg said he regrets giving sharks such a bad reputation after making Jaws ,” Kiera added.
“When a shark eats me, can you two add both of those lovely shark propaganda talking points to my eulogy?” Danica looked between the two of them, and Maggie and Kiera burst out laughing.
“Just a eulogy? Why not the tombstone, too? Here lies Danica. That shark thought she was a seal, honest mistake,” Maggie said.
Kiera smiled, adjusting her sun hat. She glanced toward Maggie. "Donkeys, really?"
Maggie nodded solemnly. "Izzy taught me that."
Kiera frowned, grateful for her sun hat and giant sunglasses to hide her reaction to Izzy’s name. Izzy had been so weird at the market, like Kiera had personally attacked her.
Kiera had watched Izzy out on the waves that morning, the petite woman cutting through the water with a natural ease that made it impossible to look away. There was something mesmerizing about the way she moved, a seamless blend of precision and freedom as if she belonged out there more than anywhere else. Even from the shore, Kiera could see the grin on Izzy’s face when she caught a wave, a flash of pure, unguarded joy. It wasn’t just the surfing — it was Izzy herself. In the years she’d known Izzy, she’d always admired the effortless happiness Izzy seemed to exude, the kind of energy Kiera had spent years trying to cultivate but could never quite grasp. Watching her that morning, she had felt a pang of longing, not just for the life Izzy seemed to embody, but for that spark of unburdened lightness Kiera had lost somewhere along the way.
Danica glanced back over her shoulder, her face framed by wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail. "At least we can all agree this beats sitting on the sidelines while Izzy and Pete try to out-surf each other."
Kiera gazed toward the distant shoreline, where she could see the outline of palm trees and colorful kayaks and boats docked along the bay. "It is nice,” she admitted.
Danica's tone was both soft-spoken and knowing. "I’m glad you’re here.”
“Are you?” Kiera responded more quickly than she intended, though she hoped her tone was more worried than accusatory.
Danica looked caught off-guard. “Of course I am.”
Then why don’t you ever return my calls? Kiera wanted to ask, but she held back the words. Instead, she forced herself to nod. “Thanks for saying that.” Kiera looked down at the clear blue water, watching the sunlight ripple across the surface. She wanted to believe Danica, but a part of her couldn’t accept that Danica would ever forgive her.
“You okay?” Maggie asked, her voice gentle.
Kiera shifted uncomfortably, her paddle dipping in and out of the water as she tried to articulate her thoughts. "Between our last trip and the divorce and the move… everything has just felt hard for so long, you know?”
Maggie let out a sympathetic hum. "Oh, Kiera, of course everything feels hard right now. But, Izzy is divorced, too. She might be able to give you ideas on how to get through it."
"I don't want Izzy's ideas," Kiera said automatically.
Danica and Maggie exchanged a look, and then Danica cleared her throat. "I'm sorry you're having a hard time, Kier. It sounds awful. I’m sorry we haven't spent more time together since you landed in Denver. Between work and travel and Pete and Gladys… It’s been a lot of adjustment.”
Kiera's throat tightened with emotion and embarrassment. Danica had once been her best friend, and now she hadn’t made much of an effort to see her in the last year. "It's okay, I know you're busy."
Danica looked like she wanted to say more, but she glanced toward Maggie and then stopped, chewing on her lower lip.
Kiera’s chest tightened further, but before she could ask Danica what she was about to say, Maggie pointed toward a small inlet nearby, bordered by a sandy strip and a few paddle boarders resting in the shallows. The inlet seemed quiet, a pocket of serenity tucked away from the busier parts of Mission Bay. As they drifted closer, the soft rustle of palm fronds and the chirping of unseen shorebirds created a tranquil soundtrack. "Let’s head over there," Maggie suggested, her voice eager. "It looks nice and quiet and shark-free."
The trio paddled toward the inlet, the sound of the waves growing softer as they entered the sheltered area. The water was still and clear, offering a perfect view of the sandy bottom, scattered with shells and flowing seaweed. Maggie was the first to slip off her board and wade into the shallow water.
"This is amazing," Maggie said, her voice carrying over the stillness of the bay. She tilted her head back, letting the sunlight dance across her face.
"We should’ve brought snacks." Danica laughed, sitting cross-legged on her board as they watched Maggie explore the sandy beach. "This is the perfect picnic spot."
Kiera smiled faintly, leaning her paddle against her board and dipping her fingers into the cool water. The quiet companionship of the moment felt fragile but welcome, a brief respite from the awkwardness she’d been feeling since they arrived.
Danica’s gaze lingered on Kiera for a moment before she spoke. "I love you, you know.”
Kiera blinked, caught off guard by both the softness in Danica’s voice and the directness of her statement. "I love you, too. And I'm sor?—"
Danica held up a hand. "I know. It's just hard to let it all go. I'm hoping this weekend will help, you know? I miss you, but what happened..."
"Sucked," Kiera said flatly.
Danica let out a huff of a laugh. "It sucked."
Kiera sighed. "I know. It was really stupid, and believe me, I've had a lot of time to think about it.”
Maggie waved toward them, shouting, "I found a little crab!" Danica and Kiera waved back like a pair of indulgent parents.
"You're doing a good job, you know. With the girls. With leaving Alex. It's not easy, but I'm proud of you," Danica said, her tone gentle but firm. "You’re doing the best you can, and that’s enough."
The words settled over Kiera, unexpected and comforting. She swallowed hard, her throat tight. "Thanks," she murmured, not trusting herself to say more without turning into a blubbering mess.
"You think he'll stay on my paddle board?" Maggie asked, cupping the tiny creature in her hands as she waded back into the shallows.
"No, babe," Kiera said flatly, shaking her head.
Danica sighed. "You cannot bring him back with us or Pete will name him, and we'll end up with a mascot that none of us can bring on a plane."
Maggie furrowed her brow, as she gently released him back into the water with a dramatic flourish of her hands. "A good point. So long, Sir Crabbington of Paddleboardshire."
The three of them lingered in the inlet for a while longer, relaxing and floating and taking their time. Watching Maggie and Danica’s easy banter, she realized the rift between her and Danica might not be insurmountable after all. The shared memories, the quiet understanding, and the bond they once had — it all felt within reach again.
After an hour or so, the group met up again on Pacific Beach. Pete and Maggie tossed a frisbee back and forth, while Danica crouched near the water’s edge, building an elaborate sandcastle, complete with a moat. Kiera sat cross-legged on the sand, watching Izzy out of the corner of her eye as she unpacked a small cooler that she and Pete had grabbed from the house.
After a long moment of silence, Kiera ventured, "This is nice."
Izzy shrugged, her expression unreadable as she busied herself with arranging bottles of water and a few snacks. "Yeah.”
The awkwardness between them lingered like a low-hanging cloud, but Kiera pressed on. "With your divorce... how long did it take you to feel like a normal human being again?"
Izzy finally glanced at her, and Kiera thought she caught the faintest flicker of something softening in her eyes before the guarded wall returned. "I thought things worked with Paisley because we didn’t need each other too much, but I don’t think we truly ever let each other in," Izzy said quietly, surprising Kiera. "It didn’t end in some big fight. It just… wore me down. Like I gave and gave, and I only got polite silence in return.”
Kiera frowned. “That sounds awful.”
“It was awful. I felt so distant and hollow after.” Izzy chewed her lip, staring out at the horizon. Then, as if snapping out of a daze, she cleared her throat. “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt like a normal human being, to be honest.”
Kiera let out a bitter laugh. “I know that feeling well.”
Izzy made a faint noise of agreement.
"So, the divorce was mutual? I don't really know anything about her.... about Paisley," Kiera said, hating Paisley immediately regardless of a lack of facts.
"We weren't married long, and we didn't have kids," Izzy replied, as if that negated telling her more details.
"Yeah," Kiera said. "That makes things less complicated on paper, but maybe not less complicated in reality.”
Izzy took a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders as she kicked her unpainted toe in the sand. “Listen, about this morning at the market…”
Kiera hesitated, feeling the weight of everything unspoken between them. "I get that things are still weird," she said quietly. “You don’t have to be nice to me just because I’m going through something right now.”
Izzy’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before she looked away, focusing on the waves. "Everyone screws things up, Kiera. But some things are harder to forgive than others. The question is whether you’re willing to do the work to fix it and prove you’re not just going to repeat the same mistakes."
The words stung, but Kiera nodded. "I am," she said simply. "But we all?—"
Izzy held up a palm to stop her. "None of that. Own it."
Kiera took a deep breath, nodding. "I own it. I did the wrong thing. And because of that, everyone hates me.”
“No.” Izzy's short blonde hair ruffled in the ocean breeze as they watched one another for a long moment. Kiera could have sworn Izzy’s gaze dropped to her mouth. Izzy’s light blue eyes looked up to meet hers as she bit her lip, self-conscious. “I don’t hate you, Kiera.” Her voice was soft as she said it, a gentle, chiding reminder that it didn’t help anything to be hyperbolic in her shame.
“Okay.” Kiera smiled faintly, grateful for the small olive branch.
“Okay,” Izzy said with finality. She turned toward Danica, who was now grimacing as one of her turrets was swept away in the current of her moat. “Need help, Danica?”
“God, yes. Please. Why are sandcastles so fucking difficult?” Danica looked up, a dejected frown on her face. Izzy sighed and pulled herself up from the sand, taking a step toward the castle.
Even Kiera couldn’t help but laugh at the pained expression on her friend’s face. A tiny bit of hope bloomed in her heart that she and Izzy could fix their friendship as she walked behind her. She missed that, the ease of familiarity between them. The weight on Kiera's shoulders lightened, however slightly, for the first time in ages.