Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
PRESENT DAY
Madeline
The warm glow from the flames is nothing compared to the heat smoldering between me and the man to my left.
I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of him, can’t keep from reacting every time I remember the feel of his body pressed close to mine in the water.
All I could think about out there on that surfboard was leaning into him, wrapping my legs around him, feeling his hard, wet body against me.
If we hadn’t been on a public beach in the middle of the afternoon, I would have let those kisses go so much further.
And I know he wants me as much as I want him.
I can see his desire in every glance, feel it in every brush of his hand.
I watch the firelight flicker in his aquamarine eyes. This attraction to Garrett isn’t only physical. Every day that I spend with him, I’m more drawn to his humor, his kindness, his heart. I haven’t felt this way about anyone since…
Since Adam.
But it’s not Adam I’m falling for. It’s Garrett.
The more I get to know him, the more I see the differences.
Adam was always an introvert, a little bit insecure, always in Jason’s shadow.
But as I look around the group gathered at the bonfire—Chloe and Ian and all these other friends—I can see that Garrett is right in the center of it all.
He’s so confident and outgoing, joking with everyone, a huge part of this community.
They love and respect him, and he fits right in.
There’s no denying that he resembles Adam, but all I have to rely on are my fading memories from a decade ago and a single photograph. Maybe when I saw that video of Garrett saving those kids, I wanted to believe it was Adam. Maybe I wanted an excuse to come here and change my life.
And now that I have, I don’t regret it. Adam was the catalyst, but Garrett is real, and he’s right next to me, and maybe it was all meant to be because I’m finally ready to let Adam go. I shiver, and as if sensing the movement, Garrett slips out of his hoodie and wraps it around my shoulders.
I snuggle into it, breathing in the scent of sawdust now mingled with woodsmoke.
He rests his arm on a knee, and the ropey lines of his biceps pull the black-eyed Susan and Queen Anne’s lace taut.
I’ve watched him tug off his T-shirt in the workshop, seen the strong strokes of his arms push him through the water, but I’ve never had such an unobstructed view of the delicate lines sketched across his skin.
The firelight dances over the highlights and shadows.
Under the flower which I suspected is mountain laurel, the area appears to be raised, textured.
Before I can look closer, he gets up to throw another log on the fire, and I feel my phone buzz in my pocket.
I’ve been expecting a text from Josie. She flew into Newark this evening and is heading south in a rental car.
But when I open my phone, I find a message from Jason.
I’m back from Mexico and I can’t stop thinking about you. Can I come over to your place ?
I stare at the text. Jason thinks I’m back home in Maple Ridge. I didn’t tell him I’m staying on Sandy Harbor for the summer. I guess Josie was right when she said Jason was going to question where I am.
We broke up, and I know I don’t need to tell him anything. But my life was intertwined with his for a decade, and I can’t help but feel like I owe him some explanation. I send a reply.
I’m not home. I decided to stay at the beach for a while. Josie is coming so we can have some time together.
I’m not sure what I’m expecting him to say. Maybe that we’ll talk when I get back. It would be nice if he told me to have fun with my sister and gave me the space I asked for. But what he says instead has my heart pounding.
I’m going to drive up this weekend. I want to see you.
I can’t have Jason coming here. Not while Garrett is living next door and walking me home from work and making me fall for him during lazy afternoons on the beach. I know I owe Jason a conversation, but it can’t be on Sandy Harbor with my past, present, and future colliding.
Now isn’t a good time. I really just need some space. And Josie and I are going to have some much-needed time together. Can we talk next week?
“Everything okay?” Garrett’s voice cuts in as he drops back down on the sand.
“Just checking on Josie. She’s picking me up here.” At that moment, a text comes in from my sister letting me know that she’s parking on 76 th Street. I can’t think about Jason right now. All I can do is hope that he respects my wishes .
It’s been months since I’ve seen Josie, and when I spot her cresting the dune, I run barefoot across the sand.
She throws her arms around me, and I squeeze right back.
Unexpected tears spring to my eyes. I didn’t realize how much I needed my big sister until she was standing in front of me.
So much has happened, and I want to spill it all.
Josie understands how Adam’s death broke me.
I know she wasn’t thrilled about me coming here, but I also know she’ll listen and support me.
I take her hand and tug her down the path toward the beach. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
She looks me over. “How are you? Really?”
“I’m okay.”
“I can’t believe we’re on Sandy Harbor. And where is the Adam look-alike?”
“He’s down at the bonfire. Do you want to meet him before we go back to the house?”
She peers into the semi-darkness. “Which one is he?” Josie only met Adam once, when she came home from college at Christmas.
By her next trip home for spring break, he was dead.
Her eyes scan the crowd and then widen. But she’s not looking at Garrett; her gaze is locked on the opposite side of the bonfire, where Ian is crossing the sand carrying an armful of logs.
Am I imagining it, or does she slide a little further in the shadows of the lifeguard chair?
“Maybe I could meet him tomorrow? I’m really tired from my flight.”
Of course she’s tired, she flew all the way from San Francisco and then drove down from Newark. “Sure. There’s plenty of time to meet him.” I wave to Garrett to let him know we’re heading back to the cottage.
“So, what’s going on with that guy?” Josie asks fifteen minutes later from her position curled up on the end of the couch. “Garrett, right?”
“We’ve gotten to be friends.” But then I remember pressing up against his wet, slick chest in the water. I pick up a throw pillow and clutch it to my stomach. “Maybe more than friends. I don’t know.”
Her eyes go wide. “Oh, Madeline. I know you wanted to get to know him to find out if he’s Adam, but…” She squints at me. “But are you falling for him?”
“I don’t know.” Except I’m pretty sure I do.
She presses a hand to my forearm. “I know Garrett looks like Adam, and your feelings are all mixed up in that.”
I shake my head. “They were, but they’re not anymore.
I’ve spent a lot of time with him, and I think you were right, doppelg?ngers are everywhere.
” I share my thoughts from earlier about my memories of Adam fading and all the ways Garrett seems like his own person.
“The more I get to know him, the less I think he could possibly be Adam.” I flash to a memory of Garrett in the firelight, his voice light with conversation and laughter, smile lines crinkling around his blue eyes.
There’s something else at the edge of my consciousness, but I’m distracted by Josie’s heavy sigh.
“Do you think I’m crazy?” I ask.
Josie cocks her head. “I’ve always known you to be measured and rational. You’re usually not impulsive. But these are a lot of seismic shifts all at once… ending things with Jason, coming here, and now you’re getting involved with this Garrett.”
“I didn’t say we’re getting involved.”
She gives me a stare. “You didn’t say you’re not.”
Fair point. I look away.
“You’re back here on the island after years away, hanging out with a guy who looks like the love of your life, even if he isn’t. I don’t think it’s possible to think clearly in this setting. ”
If that’s true, then why does it feel like my life is finally coming into focus?
For the past decade, everything has been cloudy, smudged, like a rain-splattered windshield, and I’ve been squinting through it at the world flying by.
But this summer, the fog has finally lifted, and the sun is shining through.
“I think maybe you ought to go back to Maple Ridge for a while,” Josie continues.
“I know you don’t want to marry Jason, but end your relationship with the energy it deserves.
Put Garrett on pause. And Sandy Harbor, too.
Things might look really different when you go home.
The nostalgia may fade when you’re back in your old life. ”
Going home would be the easy thing to do. The safe thing. But I’ve chosen easy and safe my whole life. I don’t want to leave this island, or Garrett. I came here to find out the truth and put it behind me. I’m so close to doing that.
“Josie, I was working at the bar one night when a guy came in who remembered us from when we lived here.”
She bites her lip. “Was it that guy Ian?”
“What?” I remember her face when she spotted him on the beach, and how she jumped behind the lifeguard chair. “Do you know Ian?”
“No.” Her eyes widen innocently. “I mean, not really. I vaguely remember him from back then. That’s all.”
“Why did you look like you’d seen a ghost when you spotted him on the beach?”
“Everything on this island is like seeing a ghost. We left here a lifetime ago.”
“Well, this guy I met at the bar was older than Ian. Maybe in his mid-thirties now. He implied that there was something that drove our family away from here.” I look at her straight in the eye.
“I always felt like there was some bigger reason Mom left, and this just confirmed it. Josie, this is my life. This was my home. I need to know the truth.”
“I can’t tell you the truth,” she blurts out, and then seems to check herself. “I don’t know any more than you do.”
“You must know something. ”
“I’m sorry, I don’t.” Josie yawns, throwing her arms over her head in an exaggerated stretch. “I’m exhausted.” She pulls herself to her feet and leans over to give me a hug. “It’s so good to see you, Maddie. We’ll talk more in the morning, okay?”
Josie ventures toward the guest bedroom but stops in the archway and turns around. “Maybe don’t say anything about the guy at the bar to Garrett or Ian or”—she waves a casual hand—“anyone.”
“ Why? ”
She shrugs. “Why stir it up again?”
Why stir what up again?
But Josie yawns and disappears into her bedroom.
I don’t tell her that Garrett and I have already talked about the guy at the bar or that I have no idea if he’s mentioned the encounter to Ian.
It didn’t occur to me to hide it from Garrett when he was the one stepping in to make sure I was safe.
But now I wonder if I should have been more discreet.
I hate these secrets and suspicions creeping back in.
Garrett has pulled me from the waves and looked out for me at every turn.
I’ve never had a moment where I didn’t feel safe with him.
The only barrier that’s stood between us is his appearance.
If he were just a regular blue-eyed, dark-haired, tattooed surfer I met on the beach, and not a doppelg?nger of Adam, would any of this feel so fraught?
When I get up to set my water bottle in the sink under the window, I spot a light glowing over Garrett’s deck.
He’s probably not home yet since he seemed to be settling in with the group at the bonfire.
I step outside and wrap Garrett’s hoodie more tightly around me.
I should have left it with him since I got a ride with Josie.
But I doubt he’ll be cold on the walk; I get the feeling he only brings it to keep me warm .
Something scrapes at the edge of my consciousness again, something about the bonfire, or Garrett’s hoodie, or…
It comes to me in a rush. His tattoos. The fire accentuated the texture for just a moment before the light shifted.
Under the mountain laurel, his skin looked raised, like a burn.
Or a scar you’d get from colliding with your best friend on your bike.
The world that I’d just begun to set right on its axis tilts precipitously, and all my careful calculations about Garrett’s identity scatter into the atmosphere.
Maybe I’m wrong, and it was a brief glimpse of mottled skin in a flash of firelight.
Maybe Adam is dead, and Garrett is exactly who he says he is.
Or maybe I’m right. But what I know for sure is that I’ll never hold the claim on my own life unless I know for sure.
I whirl around to face the light over Garrett’s porch. He left the back door open with just the screen latched. It’s not unusual around here, crime is so low that people rarely lock their doors. There really isn’t any reason someone would break into a house around here.
Unless they were searching for the truth.