6. Ellie #2
Everything else had to wait above the surface.
“That’s the idea,” I said.
The wind pulled damp strands of hair across her face.
I wanted to move them.
I didn’t.
Hank was close enough to develop another opinion.
The ride back was quiet.
Annie sat beside me, her knee resting against mine.
She either did not notice or had chosen not to move.
I liked both possibilities.
At the shop, Captain Pancake greeted us with the emotional restraint of a dog who had been abandoned for an entire hour and forty minutes.
He pressed himself against Annie’s legs.
She bent to pet him.
“You survived,” she said.
“He stayed inside.”
“He had an emotional journey.”
Captain Pancake looked deeply grateful to be understood.
Hank began unloading tanks.
“You two rinse gear.”
It was a normal instruction.
The look he gave me before walking away was not.
Annie and I carried the equipment to the rinse station.
She peeled her wetsuit down to her waist and began spraying salt from the vest.
I focused on the regulator in my hands with sudden, intense professional interest.
“You’re very quiet,” she said.
“I’m working.”
“You usually talk while you work.”
“I’m developing new skills.”
“Is this another difficult personal journey?”
“Yes.”
She moved closer to hang the vest.
Water ran down the side of her neck.
My personal development ended immediately.
Annie caught me looking.
Her smile turned slow.
“Everything okay, Instructor Parker?”
“Perfect.”
“That sounded convincing.”
“I’m known for sincerity.”
She stepped closer.
Not touching.
Close enough that I could smell saltwater and sunscreen.
“Does Hank have rules about kissing near the equipment?”
“None in writing.”
“You checked?”
“I’m thorough.”
Annie’s gaze dropped to my mouth.
The rinse hose continued spraying uselessly at the concrete.
I should have turned it off.
Instead, I leaned in.
Annie stopped me with one hand against my chest.
My whole body went still.
Then she reached past me and turned off the hose.
The sudden silence made her grin.
“Water conservation.”
“Responsible.”
“Very.”
Then she kissed me.
It was not the careful question from the pier.
It was warm and certain, her wet hand sliding to the side of my neck as I caught her by the waist.
For several seconds, I forgot we were behind the dive shop in half-removed wetsuits beside a bucket labeled MYSTERY CLIPS.
Then Captain Pancake barked.
We jumped apart.
He stood in the doorway with Hank behind him.
Hank looked at the puddle around our feet.
“Hose problem?”
“Yes,” I said.
“No,” Annie said at the same time.
Hank looked between us.
Annie cleared her throat.
“Resolved.”
“Mm-hm.”
He went back inside.
Captain Pancake remained in the doorway, visibly disappointed.
“I think we’ve been reported,” Annie whispered.
“He’s very strict about workplace conduct.”
“He sits on customers.”
“Different department.”
We finished rinsing the equipment under canine supervision.
After Annie changed, we walked toward the café.
Rosa had placed two iced teas and a plate of fries on the haunted table.
“We didn’t order,” Annie said.
Rosa looked at me.
“She still thinks ordering matters.”
“She’s new,” I said.
We sat.
Annie stole a fry before Rosa had fully turned away.
“You learn quickly.”
“I had an excellent instructor.”
The café was busier than usual. Families sat beneath the umbrellas. Divers came in from morning trips. Two men near the counter argued over whether sunscreen expired.
Annie chose the seat with her back to most of the room.
She did it casually.
Automatically.
I noticed anyway.
“So,” I said, “how long are you staying?”
Her hand paused near the fries.
There it was.
The question I had been avoiding because Hank was right and tourists arrived with departure dates.
“A few more days.”
“How many is a few?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You don’t have a return flight?”
“I have options.”
That sounded expensive.
And complicated.
Very Annie.
I nodded.
“Okay.”
She studied me.
“You’re not asking why?”
“You’ll tell me when you want to.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll assume you’re hiding from a deeply competitive knitting league.”
“I don’t knit.”
“Damning evidence.”
Her smile appeared but did not quite reach her eyes.
I softened my voice.
“I meant what I said. I’m not going to push.”
“I know.”
“But I’m allowed to be curious.”
“I know that too.”
She looked down at the table.
“I don’t want you to think I’m playing some game.”
“I don’t.”
“I’m not married.”
“We established that.”
“No boat fiancé.”
“Still reassuring.”
She laughed.
Then the laugh faded.
“My life is just complicated.”
“Most lives are.”
“Mine is professionally complicated.”
“Mine involves Todd.”
“That’s hard to compete with.”
“It keeps me humble.”
Annie looked toward the beach.
A gust of wind lifted the edge of her napkin.
“I don’t know how long I can stay,” she said. “But I’d like to see you while I’m here.”
Simple.
Direct.
More dangerous than a secret job or a manager with possible access to helicopters.
I picked up a fry.
“Professionally?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Good.”
Relief softened her face.
I wanted to keep making things easy for her.
“What are you doing tonight?” she asked.
“I have an advanced class until five.”
“And after?”
“Rinsing equipment. Feeding Captain Pancake. Preventing Hank from eating canned soup over the sink.”
“Vital work.”
“Essential.”
She traced one finger through the condensation on her glass.
“I bought too much food.”
“That’s a strange confession.”
“At the grocery store. I panicked.”
“How much food?”
“Enough for a family of four with strong opinions about cheese.”
“That’s serious.”
“I was wondering whether you wanted to help.”
“Help eat the food?”
“Yes.”
“At your place?”
Her eyes met mine.
“At my place.”
The air between us shifted.
Dinner.
Her rental.
No gulls.
No Captain Pancake supervising.
I lifted my glass.
“What time?”
“Seven?”
“I’ll bring wine.”
“I already bought wine.”
“Of course you did.”
“I panicked thoroughly.”
“Dessert?”
“There may be three.”
I stared at her.
“Were you preparing for a hurricane?”
“I don’t understand vacation grocery stores.”
“That may be my favorite thing I’ve learned about you.”
She smiled.
“Seven, then.”
“Seven.”
Rosa walked past and dropped the check on the table.
“You two look pleased with yourselves,” she said.
“We had a successful dive,” Annie replied.
Rosa looked at our joined knees beneath the table.
“Sure.”
Then she continued toward the counter.
Annie watched her go.
“Does she know everything?”
“No.”
Rosa called from behind the counter, “I know enough.”
I lowered my voice.
“Never give her details.”
“Understood.”
Annie reached across the table and took my hand.
Not beneath it.
Not hidden.
Right there beside the fries and the sweating glasses of tea.
My first instinct was to glance around.
Not because I was afraid of being seen.
Because Annie usually was.
But she seemed relaxed.
No one nearby was paying attention to us.
I turned my hand beneath hers and laced our fingers together.
A few more days, she had said.
I decided not to count them yet.