Chapter Thirty
I love that woman,but I don’t want to scare her off. So I will just continue to drop subtle little hints until we are both ready to say the words. Still no response from the radio, so I will have to try again later. I’m starving, and I am almost positive that I can hear Molly’s stomach growling from over here. I hook another flounder fish and reel it onto shore, making sure to gut them and clean them out before heading back to the shelter.
“Sunshine, I caught you some fish.” Molly is sitting near the small fire she started, her legs crossed at the ankles, looking hotter than any castaway woman should. She pushes herself up onto her knees and smiles at me as she pulls out some banana leaves that she collected while I was gone.
“Hello there, Sweetie Pie,” she says, making a weird face as she lays the banana leaves on the blanket and motions for me to set the fish on top of them. “Nope, sweetie pie is definitely not the right term of endearment for you.” I place the fish on top of the banana leaves, and she wraps up the fish, tearing a few little strips off of some extra leaves to tie around the little fish package before placing them into the coals. “Cutie Pie, no, definitely not cutie pie either. How about hot stuff?” She continues to go through a few more, shaking her head at all of them. “Nope, those aren’t right either.” A little giggle escapes her lips when she looks up to find me staring at her.
“You done? Or do you have a few more?” I sit down next to her, picking her hand up in mine and holding it as we listen to the fish sizzle and pop. The smell of cooking food makes me want to drool.
“Nope. No more. It’ll come to me. We just have to wait it out. But until then, how about we fix that hair of yours? It keeps falling into your eyes.” I brush it out of my face, and it falls forward again, damp with the humidity from the day.
“What did you have in mind? A little bit off the top, maybe? Oh, you could shave the sides, and I could spike it up into a mohawk of sorts. Or better yet, I cou–,” Molly cuts me off, covering my mouth with her hand, crossing her eyes at me as I continue to rattle off ideas into her hand.
“Here, just sit in front of me. I’ll fix you up, Coop.” I sit down in front of her, and she brushes her fingers through my hair, causing goosebumps to erupt along my arms as she rakes her fingers along my scalp.
“You keep doing that, and I am going to have to help you explore some more of my mouth.” She laughs, and I feel my hair tug my scalp a little bit as it disappears from my eyes. She appears in front of me, and I reach up to find my hair in a man bun. The very thing I told myself I would never put my hair up in, and frown as I remove my hand from my head.
“Molly, I really don’t think I want my hair like thi–,” but before I have the chance to argue with her about my hair, she has thrown herself at me again, knocking me to the sand, her face hovering above mine, her beautiful brown eyes, and pretty pink lips smiling down at me.
“I think your hair looks really hot like that, Coop.” She lowers her mouth to mine and gives me another taste of her sweet pink lips, and just like that, I don’t mind my hair in a man bun anymore. In fact, I think I’ll be putting my hair up in a man bun more often if this is the reaction I get from her.
We kissuntil our fish nearly burns, and we both devour the most delicious flounder we have ever eaten, the both of us picking the bones until nothing is left. We discard the bones in the ocean and cover the coals with ash to keep them from extinguishing, before packing our bags and heading out. We plan on checking the radio again once we return.
Molly forgot she had her GoPro in the bottom of her backpack, and since it has a little bit of battery left, she plans on using it to capture some video if we happen to see any sea turtles tonight. We get to the nesting areas and set up a little camp, where we aren’t too close, but can still see some of the nests, before settling in.
She’s sitting close, her leg brushing mine as we sit there, hand in hand, as the sun lowers below the water. The stars above us sparkle like fireflies caught in a net of inky darkness as we wait for the turtles to arrive.
“Coop, what’s wrong with your dad?” Molly asks. I’m caught off guard as I hold my breath, my finger stopping its progress from moving across her knuckles as we sit there in silence. I contemplate how much I want to tell her. If I want to tell her, until I hear her sniff beside me. “I’m sorry, Coop. I’m sorry he’s sick.” She moves her arms, wrapping them around my body, hugging me close to her, giving me the comfort I didn’t know I needed, her fingers trailing over my back. I can feel the pinpricks behind my eyes as I relax into her arms, releasing the breath I was holding.
“He has cancer.” My voice breaks as all of the worry, all of the sorrow, and all of the heartache I have been feeling release from inside of me. I never knew how much relief I could have all from a simple answer combined with a simple hug. She lets me go, and I wipe my eyes with one hand while holding onto hers with the other. “He’s been getting treatments, but we won’t know more until his next appointment with the doc.”
She nods her head and gives me a kiss on my cheek before sitting up straight. “Can I come with you? You can totally say no. It’s not only you that needs to give me permission. But if your dad says yes, I would like to be there for you and him.” She stares out into the ocean, and I know, then and there, that I never want to be apart from her ever again. But there is one problem. She lives all of the way on the other side of the US, and I live here. But that won’t stop me from giving her my answer.
“Yeah, Molls, you can come with me. As long as my dad is okay with it, you can come with me anywhere.” I stare out at the ocean with her, and we watch by the light of the full moon above, as one by one, sea turtles emerge from the water.
“I think she’s done laying,”Molly whispers to me from my place on the sand. My butt is numb, but we have been keeping an eye on the closest momma turtle while Molly snuck around, taking short videos of the turtle while she dug her nest and started to lay.
“If we are going to tag her, now is the time.” Molly grabs her little kit from her bag, and I jump up with her as we move toward the turtle who has started retreating back to the water.
“Grab her hind flippers, and I’ll grab her pectoral flippers, but be gentle. The poor momma has been through a lot tonight.” We gently grab the turtle”s flippers, and she doesn’t fight us, exhausted from her night”s escapades. Molly works quickly as I hold the flashlight for her with my teeth and watch as she disinfects the turtle”s flipper before inserting the device. “Okay, Coop, let’s get her moving to the water again.” As soon as we move out of the way, the turtle moves on her own, slowly making her way back to the water”s edge before disappearing.
“That was so cool. I’ve never done that before.” I just stand there as Molly writes something down on a small piece of paper before shoving it into her backpack.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Let’s go tag another one.” We quietly move to another location and sit back down, waiting for another turtle to finish laying her eggs. Much like before, we both jump up and tag the turtle as Molly finds another place to sit.
“I think we are good, Coop. The old Doc never tagged any mommas on any of his excursions. He only focused on the nesting sites and the babies, so I am happy we even tagged two.” She pats the sand next to her, and I sit down before she makes a little squeal of delight. “Coop… look!” I follow her finger to where she is pointing and watch as the sand moves. “Come on,” she is on her feet, yanking on my hand to stand as we quietly move toward the tagged nest that is now moving as though the sand is alive.
She gasps, her body vibrating with energy as little flippers emerge from the nest and little baby sea turtles make their way from their sandy bed below. “They’re loggerheads, Coop.” She has to cover her mouth to keep herself from screaming, and I look over at her as tears stream down her face. We both sit down on the sand near the nest as she continues to cry, and I hold her hand as we watch hundreds of baby turtles from nearby nests join the ones hatching from the one we are sitting by, filling the sandy beach below. “We did it, Coop. We did it.”