7. Aiden
I’m soaked to the bone, my fingers wrinkled and shriveled. For the past few hours, I’ve been on the line, helping sandbag a low-lying area south of the boardwalk. The winds and rain are still fierce, with more bearing down. It’s physically demanding work, especially in these conditions, but the repetitive nature of passing sandbag after sandbag, over and over again, down the line has left my mind free to wander.
And wander it has, right back to Kate.
Chances are good that even if she hadn’t appeared out of the blue last night, and again this morning, she’d still be on my mind today. Any kind of weather, or even a casual mention of the weather, and thoughts of her surface. Without fail.
The fact that monitoring weather conditions at the beach is a daily responsibility has proven to be an inescapable torment I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. The only nugget keeping me sane is that my lie was convincing enough to work all those years ago. The lie that crossed my lips when I told her I didn’t see a future together with her.
The truth was, Kate was the only future I saw. But if I’d held onto her, if I’d told her how I really felt, she wouldn”t have left town to take advantage of that full-ride scholarship she’d earned. She never would have put that whip-smart brain to use and graduated college. And she wouldn’t be working today doing what she loves.
Seeing her again, touching her, being close enough to smell her has been pure torture. It’s like being caught in a riptide when she’s right there above the water, a safe haven just out of reach. But the sacrifice was worth it then. And it still is now…if she’s happy.
She seems happy, and she’s doing what she loves, but a small voice in the back of my mind, like a devil sitting on my shoulder, whispers that I don’t know for sure. That I won’t until I ask.
The sandbags are stacked close to six feet high to shore up the area when my phone rings. My heart skips a beat, and my thoughts immediately fly to Kate and Donna calling. I drag the cell out of my pocket, and with a glance at the caller, I breathe a sigh of relief but step out of line. Pressing against the side of a building, under an eave, I cover one ear with my hand, so I can hear through the receiver.
“Ed,” I answer, praying the city manager isn’t calling to pull me for a search and rescue. “Everything okay?”
“Aiden,” he replies, his voice lacking an immediate urgency. “The storm’s been upgraded to a hurricane but has moved off to the north.”
“We’re fortunate to be spared a direct hit and greater damage.”
“Yes,” he agrees. “But I need you to head over to the lifeguard tower. There’s an official from the National Storm Tracking Institute who needs access. Something about recording firsthand observations.”
My chest compresses, and an immediate refusal forms on my lips. “No. If it’s Kate Sullivan, the answer is no. She’s safer inland.”
As soon as the words escape from my mouth, I want to claw them back. This morning, Kate proved she cares more about collecting data than keeping herself safe. And the tower is the safest place for miles. Especially if I’m there.
“Too late,” he says in a familiar tone. The image of his bald head and the no-nonsense expression he’s no doubt making right now comes to mind. Because it’s the same way he looked at me when I was called into his office at Love Beach High because I was dropping out to work full time. “She wasn’t about to take no for an answer. I already told her I’d get someone over there to let her in.”
I hang up without so much as a goodbye, my pulse skyrocketing as a crack of lightning, followed immediately by a deep rumble of thunder, streaks across the sky. I run for my truck, oblivious to anything and everything around me. If Kate’s already on her way to the beach, then she’s already in danger.