26. Twenty-six
“Mom? What did they say?”
Marin looks at me expectantly from the other side of the booth, and I have no clue what she’s just said.
“The guy at the campground in Bar Harbor—does he have space for us?”
Right.
“Yes, the campground. Not until next weekend once the Fourth of July is over, and even then, it’s on a first come basis. So, we can look for somewhere else this morning to go in the meantime.”
I drink my coffee in gulps, scorching my mouth, desperately needing the caffeine to kick in.
Not surprisingly, I didn’t sleep well. My thoughts bounced between the same overplayed scenarios. Imagining what Ethan and Zoey were doing, absurdly hating Ethan for what he and Zoey were doing, and my personal favorite, feeling guilty for betraying Travis with the first two thoughts.
“Let’s just stay here—there’s so much to do in the mountains, and this weather is awesome,” Finn chimes in between bites of an omelet.
“Are you sure? Seems kind of sleepy if you ask me.” My chest tightens.
“I think it’s perfect. Let’s do something outdoorsy today.” Marin sips her tea. “Oh! And how did it go last night? Did you meet the owner?”
“It was fun helping out behind the bar. I haven’t had a challenge like that in a while. The owner was a letdown, though. A jerk, really.” I pause. “But I liked making the drinks and joking with the customers. They had blueberries—you know I love a good fresh ingredient. I made up a drink on the spot, even.”
I wiggle my fingers playfully.
“Look at you, Penelope.” She smiles through her bite of French toast. “What was the deal with the owner?”
“Hmm.” My throat pinches as I picture Ethan’s face. “He was greasy and looked a little like an ogre. You know the type. Kind of one of those creepy old men. And weird teeth—like the kind with all that yellow film that makes it look like there’s one weird massive tooth.” I twist my face in disgust.
“Okay, that’s gross.”
“Right?” I nod too many times.
“I found a company that does guided floats down the Androscoggin River. Anyone up for that today?”
Bless you, Finn, for this subject change.
“It’s supposed to be the hottest day all week, a steamy eighty-seven.”
Finn holds up my phone. “Says it’s a gentle float down the river on a tube, kayak, canoe, or paddle board, and the guide helps you spot wildlife.” He shrugs.
“Maybe we can see a moose!”
Marin taps her fingers together in excitement.
“Sounds fun to me.” I take another bite of bacon as I look out of the window. “Do you guys want to move to the campground or stay at the inn a couple more nights?”
Finn scoffs. “What do you think?”
Inn it is.
***
When we make it to the launch site on the river, I convince myself it will be a fun and relaxing day on the water. It’s going to feel like vacation. Being here is a good thing.
“Mom, don’t be such a prude.” Marin scoffs as I tug at the swimsuit she insisted I wear. “You’re acting like you’re naked.”
It’s a too-bright red, too high on the thigh, and way too low in the chest scrap of fabric and the opposite of age appropriate. I look like an idiot.
“I feel naked,” I hiss at her, wishing the fabric would multiply, as a young guy walks down to greet us on the riverbank.
He looks to be about Finn’s age. A good-looking kid with long brown hair pulled back in a bun wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and swim shorts. He could be in California as much as Maine.
“’Sup guys?” He lifts his chin. “I’m Derek. I’ll be your guide this morning.”
Finn gives him a nod. “Finn,” he says. “This is my sister, Marin, and my mom, Nel.”
I smile.
“Sweet. So, you can pick whatever you want to float on.” He points to the racks of tubes, kayaks, and paddle boards. “We will be gone for about three hours. You can bring a cooler if you want, but we are very much a pack-it-in, pack-it-out outfit, so there is no throwing the empties in the water. We’ll catch a ride in the van at the end to get back.” He drops a canvas bag into a kayak. “I take a kayak so I can keep things dry, so you can put any cellphones or wallets in there.”
We make quick work of choosing our floats. I go with a paddleboard. Marin and Finn both pick tubes.
“Are we waiting for anyone else?” I ask, tugging at the too-tight fabric that both pulls into a perma-wedgie and threatens to expose my chest to the free world before dropping my dry clothes into his kayak.
“Actually,” he says shyly. “This is my first solo guide. Ergo, the group is going to be small. We have two more people coming, but that’s it.” There’s an awkward silence. “But I promise I totally know what I’m doing. I grew up swimming on this river.”
He smiles eagerly.
I want to laugh, but the mom in me feels incredibly proud even though I don’t even know the kid.
I open my mouth to say something encouraging but am stopped by a deep, “They let anyone go down this river, don’t they?” from behind me.
I spin so fast, I stumble over my paddleboard.
Holy mother of God.
Ethan?
“Har! Har! Dad,” Derek says dryly. “Very funny.” He looks back to us. “My annoying dad and less annoying brother will be the other two joining us today.”
Derek rolls his eyes toward Ethan, but Ethan’s eyes widen and lock with mine.
I can’t breathe.
“Penelope?”
I look away, feeling such an intense heat rise up my neck I expect to see smoke puff out of my pores.
“Mom?” Marin stands next to me. “Do you know each other?”
“No!” I shout at the same time Ethan casually says, “Yes.”
Marin and Finn look at me, each other, then Ethan.
“I mean, yes,” I rasp out.
Ethan smirks.
“I mean kind of.” I backtrack. “I met him at the restaurant I went to last night. Remember?”
I shake my head slightly and pin Marin with a warning look. She squints at me, her way of silently telling me I know you’re lying, before dropping it.
We make introductions, and I purposefully stand as far away from Ethan as possible in every situation. Austin, Derek’s older brother, looks exactly like Derek, just slightly taller with buzzed short hair and no tie-dye.
Ethan, on the other hand, looks like he belongs on the cover of an outdoor magazine. A gray t-shirt that clings across his chest like it was custom-made for him reveals arms possibly made with a chisel, not in the bulky way that comes from hours in the gym, but in the way that comes from living life and chopping firewood.
I can barely see straight between his broad chest, backward hat, and blue swim trunks slung low on his hips.
Hips that Zoey probably wrapped her....
I jam my eyes shut and send the thought down the river.
Derek instructs us all to follow him into the water. The kids take the lead and dive headfirst while I hang back and wade in slowly. The water is one degree warmer than ice, and goosebumps cover my skin. The flimsy material that clings to my chest does nothing to hide how the chill affects me.
Ethan wades through the water, and his eyes flick to my chest and back up.
“Nice suit.”
My face heats, and I make a mental note to ground Marin for life for making me wear this ridiculous thing.
In the least dramatic way possible, I want to drown myself in the river.
“What are you doing?” I demand as I fumble onto my board.
“Umm. Supporting my son at his new job?”
He raises his eyebrows, and the green flecks in his eyes catch the sun.
“You know what? Never mind,” I snap.
“Are you mad at me?” he asks, dropping the paddle onto his board before effortlessly hopping on.
“Shouldn’t you still be with Zoey?” Jealousy is not my best look.
“Are you kidding me, Nel?” He scoffs. “I forgot I had that planned. What did you want me to do, send her away?”
Yes.
“No. Forget it. You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m just… tired.”
Kneeling on my board, I start paddling away from him, knowing damn well there’s nowhere to go.
“If you remember, Nel, you’re the one who just showed up,” he says as he effortlessly catches up to me. “After telling me people don’t find themselves in the White Mountains of Maine, you found yourself here. What did you want me to do? Clear my calendar until that happened?”
Worse than me not having an answer to his questions is the fact there’s amusement in his voice.
He thinks this is funny.
I try with desperate, angry chops of my paddle to get away from him, but he’s like a barnacle that won’t let himself get scraped off. He’s everywhere I am with a few smooth, calm strokes.
I give up and accept that for three hours, he’ll be next to me, looking like he does, while I try to pretend I don’t look like I do.
Ahead on the river, Austin, Marin, and Finn tie their tubes together and cluster next to Derek, who paddles his kayak. We’re far back enough I can’t hear their conversation, but their regular bursts of laughter bounce off the water toward me and wrap around me like a cozy sweater. They’re having fun. That fact alone makes everything a little more tolerable.
“So, you’re still here,” Ethan says as he paddles.
“Aren’t you observant?”
“Well, you said last night you were leaving today. Unless that’s just what women say that drive across the country to see men they find in magazines.”
Bastard.
“That’s not what happened!” I snap. “And we were supposed to leave, but the spot in Bar Harbor we’re going to doesn’t have a spot for us until next weekend. Finn wanted to stay and do stuff in the mountains, and I think they like being at the Inn instead of the camper anyway—not that I blame them there.”
I tilt my paddle to follow the slight bend in the river.
“I see.”
His board gently nudges into mine.
We’re quiet for a few minutes as we float, long enough for some of the tension to leave my shoulders.
“The trees are so thick across the hills and mountains here. It doesn’t look real. It’s beautiful. You were right when you said there’s a pull.”
Willow branches gently bow along the riverbank in the breeze.
A fly fisherman stands up to his knees in the water and waves to us before casting. The quiet whizzing sound of the line and soft splash of the fly hitting the water play on repeat as we quietly float by. It’s an ethereal kind of beauty.
“I love it; it’s home,” he finally says. “I know you saw places more impressive than the Androscoggin out west.”
He rests his paddle on his lap and faces me.
“Hmm. The Colorado River in the Grand Canyon comes to mind. Most of us won’t see anything like that again, but this is more peaceful in a way. Different.”
“I would imagine the Grand Canyon is a lot more exciting than this,” he says, chest rumbling with a laugh.
I turn to look at him.
“Different rivers dance differently with the earth, I guess. Some carve huge canyons and leave crazy rock formations. Some move sand quietly and smooth rocks. It’s not about the river or the land. It’s about how the two of them work together to become what they will.” I pause, imagining the smooth pebbles that lay on the bottom of this river and specks of sand that no doubt started their journey somewhere else. “If the Colorado River was in Maine, it never would have made the Grand Canyon. The ground wouldn’t have allowed it, I don’t think. It’s hard to say one is more impressive than the other. Just… different.”
“Like the people we meet,” he says, surprising me enough that I turn to face him.
“A man I met said the people we meet and how they shape us—love us—were the rivers that ran through us. I liked that. Understood it somehow,” I say, looking off into the distance, letting myself travel back to that rocky ledge at the Grand Canyon, feeling the slightest tinge of Travis’ absence.
A swell of laughter and sequence of splashes from the kids brings me back to the moment. I smile as I watch them—Marin twirling her tube around as her legs dangle over one edge, head dropped back toward the sky on the other. Finn’s long arms fold under his chin as his body drops through the center of his own.
“So, how was your date?”
I thoroughly hate myself for caring enough to ask.
“Last night was one of the best nights I’ve had in a while,” he responds, smugly.
”That”s nice,” I say, meaning anything but.
Derek points at something on the shore everyone looks at. I do the same—it’s a house. I can’t make out his words, but the home is stunning.
The exterior is wood, maybe cedar, with black trim all around it. It’s two stories, built into the gentle slope of the land. The entire backside of the house that faces the river is covered in windows. The single-angle roofline and thick wire railings give it a modern feel without being cold.
There’s an ATV in the yard and a couple of kayaks lying in the grass on the shore. It’s not huge, but it’s the kind of place you can imagine drinking coffee on the porch or skipping rocks into the river.
“What do you think?” Ethan asks, bumping my board gently with his.
“It’s beautiful.”
His response is an annoying whistle as he paddles.
“So, you have two sons, it seems. And dates at 11:30 with people named Zoey. Were you ever married?”
“I was. To their mom.”
“What happened?”
He puffs out his breath before dropping his head back to face the sky.
“If you would have asked me that right after it happened, I would have said my wife had an affair, but now, because there’s been some time, that was just one part.”
I’m astonished that he says it without an ounce of animosity. Like he isn’t the least bit angry.
“Early on in our marriage, I was building my name, and my life was my work. That’s hard enough on a marriage, especially with the hours, but she left her career to be home with the kids. As they got older, she got lonely, and I wasn’t there.” He shrugs. “We got married young and grew up into different people. The normal progression of life, ya know?”
He faces me, and his eyes are a clear blue against the sky.
“I would never expect someone to be the same person at forty as they were at twenty. We all change as life chips away at us. Some couples have what it takes to make it through those changes—to put in the effort—some don’t.”
“Are you close with her now?” I ask.
“Very,” he says with a nod. “She told me about the affair. Said she was in love, and it wasn’t with me. Obviously, I didn’t enjoy that, but somehow, I got over it and owned my part in it all. She’s a great mom, and we co-parent well together. And she married the man.” He shrugs again. As if it’s just the way things are supposed to be.
“So, is that why you go on dates at 11:30 at night and flirt with every woman that struts up to your bar?” I tease.
The slightest of smiles pulls at his lips as he cuts the blade of his paddle through the water.
“Part of it. I did a lot of things wrong as a husband—I can own that. My focus now is on finding a balance between work and the boys. Casual is manageable. Dates at 11:30 don’t usually interfere with family dinners.”
I snort at his honesty then we fall into silence. Ethan doesn’t try to fill it with chatter, and surprisingly, neither do I. We paddle and pause, paddle and pause, breaking the pattern only when our eyes hook for a blink until one of us—me—looks away.
Minutes upon minutes pass with him next to me.
“Want to race?”
There’s a playful spark in his eyes that makes my own narrow.
“Race?” I scoff. “What are you, twelve? What’s in it for me?”
“Bragging rights, of course.” He grins like it’s the best idea he’s ever had.
There’s no way I can beat him. He’s much stronger than me, but if my night behind the bar proves anything, it’s that I appreciate a challenge. I look down the river and back at him as I weigh my options.
I spin my board around so it’s even with his and touch it almost completely along the entire length. My eyes meet his, and I bite my lip shyly and lean close to him. I’m thankful for the first time I’m wearing a ridiculous scrap of fabric for a suit.
“Ethan,” I whisper.
His eyes widen in surprise as he takes the bait. His eyes drop to my mouth, my small excuse for cleavage, then back to my face.
Gotcha!
I grin and push his board away from mine before I start to paddle fiercely.
“Hey!” he yells through a laugh.
He’s a hell of a lot stronger than me, but with his paddle on my board, he doesn’t stand a chance.
“I play dirty, Ethan!” I call over my shoulder with a smile as I stand on my board and paddle as hard as I can.
I hear a splash but don’t turn to look. Seconds later, my board jolts, a hand wraps around my ankle, and Ethan’s head pops out of the river next to me.
“So do I, Nel.”
He grins maniacally and gives a tug just enough to falter my balance. I fly off the board with a scream, and the cold water nearly knocks the breath out of me as I go under.
I laugh when my head comes to the surface. Ethan faces me, chin just above the water, eyes shining.
“You’re an ass,” I say as I dip my head back in the water to smooth my hair away from my face.
“Says the woman who stole my paddle.”
He shakes his head and laughs. Drops of water run down his neck and bare shoulders.
“Were you just trying to get me to take my shirt off, Nel? Because all you had to do was ask.” He lifts his chin, and droplets of water drip from the scruff of his jaw.
“You’re insufferable. You challenged me, remember?”
I splash him with a handful of water before pulling myself up onto my board and trying to make my suit cover more skin.
“Nel?”
“Hmm?”
He pulls himself up on his own board, water dripping down his chest that I force myself not to stare at.
“You know I said I had a great time last night?” he asks.
“Yeah, we definitely don’t need to talk about this. I shouldn’t have asked. I was just—”
“It’s just that I had such a great time. By the time Zoey showed up, I was ready to call it a night.”
Oh.
“I just wanted you to know.” He says it like it’s important.
“Well, now I know.”
I tell myself it doesn’t matter, that I don’t care, but the weirdest feeling of hope blooms in my belly, along with a smile I never quite shake from my lips.