4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Luna
My family and I walk toward the dive center. Despite the jet lag, everyone’s moods run high at getting to experience our first full day in the Maldives. Cass and Carmen have opted to stay at the villa and chill, which I more than understand. Our temporary home has bedrooms for all of us, a well-equipped kitchen, and our own private pool pointed in the sunset’s direction. The design is beachy but sophisticated, understated, and with lots of windows and glass doors to allow maximum view of the ocean. All the lights and blackout curtains connect to a tablet, so privacy happens with a tap of the screen. My parents splurged big-time, and if we had to spend the entire trip in the confines of that building, we’d live like royalty.
In front of me, Aaron and Melissa talk to Mom and Dad about the construction happening in their surgical ward. Finn has his head down, focusing on the phone in his hand. He furrows his brows, then looks ahead where the dive center comes into view among the swaying palm trees.
“Work stuff?” I ask.
He pauses, tucking the device into his pocket. “Nothing important.”
“Congrats on the acquisition. I always believed in you.”
“Thanks.”
Finn provides no further insight, so I guess we’re back to our usual less-talkative interactions. Fine. The subtle sounds of him moaning during our massage haven’t made talking to him any easier. Each of the rough, guttural noises sent off a brief fireworks show between my legs. I did not wonder if Finn makes those kinds of satisfied noises during sex. Not once.
“You were the very first person to download it.”
“I didn’t know that.” I look at Finn, who nods. “I’m honored.”
“Now if I could just figure out what to do next.”
“Oh, come on,” I say, pushing his shoulder with my own. He’s much more solid than I expected. “You can take a breather.”
“Sure, that’s this week. But then what?”
“Not California, that’s what,” my brother remarks, apparently listening in on our discussion.
“You’re seriously still considering that?” Mel adds.
“You—” I’ve forgotten what words are and scramble for something to say. “You’re going to California?”
“I don’t know,” Finn says, rolling his shoulders like he’s dodging my question. “I got an offer out there. San Jose, a developer position at a digital communications company, good pay. Steadier than the startup life too.”
“I thought you liked the startup life.”
“I do, but—”
“We’re excited for you, Finley,” my mom says, and my dad offers him a “Good job.”
“That’s, um, very cool.” I kick a pebble on the pathway to distract myself. “Congrats on that too, I guess. California’s far.”
“Thank you,” my brother says, gesturing to me. “Listen to Lou. Don’t go to the land of the tech bros.”
“I haven’t made any decisions yet. They’ve given me until after I get back to reply. Figure I can spend this trip trying to come up with my next big idea, and if I don’t, maybe that’s a sign.”
“Wow.” I fake a smile because I am proud of Finn, and of course he has an enticing job opportunity lined up. Any company would be lucky to have him. “Well, you’ll—I’m sure you’ll figure something out. And who knows? Inspiration strikes when you least expect it, right?”
“Yeah,” he says, tucking his hands into his swim trunks. “We’ll see.”
We reach a building with stand-up paddle boards and kayaks leaning against one side, but my excitement about snorkeling has fizzled with this California job offer news. When was he going to tell me about this? And what would my life be like seeing him less, or not at all?
For a long time, I’ve admired and related to Finn’s work ethic—he wants to blaze his own path using his skills and talents, just like me. He’s better at it, though. Finn has such drive, and now he’s got the paycheck to match. If I earned half of what he did in his acquisition with my graphic design business, I could afford to take vacations more often. Girlbosses make entrepreneuring seem so easy, but I’m working more hours per week than I ever did at the agency, and my expenses balloon every day. I can only sign on for so many more projects before I’ll have to make client calls in my sleep.
Thoughts of work nag my mind with guilt. I want to be present with my family here, but I also can’t justify seven more days of not opening my computer.
Tomorrow. I’ll enjoy my time after an exhausting journey today, and tomorrow I can pull out my laptop and get some work done on the down-low.
The marine biologist, a bleach-blond Brit who traded London fog for Maldivian sunshine four years ago, explains the currents and points out the best reefs around the island. We get to hang on to the snorkel gear, including the aquatic belts and life jackets, until the end of our stay.
Aaron and Melissa return to the villa to drop off the extra items we grabbed for Cass and Carmen, so my parents, Finn, and I enter the water at the dive center. The island’s small enough that we could swim around the whole thing in one go if we wanted, but the best reef with the most active wildlife rests in the restaurant’s direction.
“That’s a cute swimming suit, LouLou,” my mom says as we wade to a sandy spot where the ocean reaches my hips. “Is it new?”
“Yeah, don’t think I’ve seen that before,” Finn adds.
I shoot daggers at him, grateful that Mom and Dad have busied themselves with wetting their masks and don’t pay attention to Finn’s smartass remark.
“Yup, bought it for the trip.” I prep my mask, catching Finn’s maroon swim trunks out of the corner of my eye. Whoever brought shorter men’s swimsuits back into style deserves a Nobel Peace Prize. “Oh, shoot. Your phone.”
“Waterproof,” he replies.
“You two stick together, okay?” my mom says in a nasally voice, her gear already on her face.
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“You’re the babysitter, LouLou,” my dad jokes, swishing his mask around in the sea water before suctioning it to his eyes and nose. “He’s the one we’re worried about.”
Finn laughs. “It’s true. Who’s going to protect me from the sh—”
“No.” I point my finger at him. “You better not say sharks .”
“Shells. I was about to say shells . They’re pointy in these parts, I’ve heard.”
I splash him with water, unable to contain my growing smile.
Meanwhile, my parents giggle at how silly they look in their masks. With their snorkels in place, they dunk their heads underwater and float toward the reef. Seeing them enjoying life together squeezes something in my chest. When I turn to Finn, he has his phone out, snapping a photo of them.
“Good idea,” I say. “They’re cute.”
“Let’s get one of you and me.”
“Sure.” I think little of his request until I slip an arm around his waist. Rather than stiffen, Finn melts into my side like he belongs there. One of his arms slinks over my shoulder, and he holds the phone in front of us. My breath catches in my chest at the sight of the two of us staring back at me. We look kind of cute together too.
I’m glad Finn’s here, otherwise I’d be lonely. But not just that—I’d miss him. He’s part of the family, and he belongs here. Maybe not here —close enough that I can smell the spice of his deodorant or feel every ripple in his torso.
Although here isn’t that bad…
“Ready?” He pulls away, and despite the pleasant temperature and sunshine, I shiver.
My first peek at the world underneath the surface steals my breath. I want to spend as much time as possible on this trip experiencing this kind of magic. Sea plants sway with the push and pull of the waves, and schools of fish dart left and right. The muffled hum of the ocean gives me an instant sense of peace, and the coziness of the water envelops me. Just like the marine biologist mentioned, I catch an occasional light crunch crunch crunch —the sound of a fish scraping algae off nearby coral to eat.
A tap on my shoulder directs my attention to the left, and Finn points to a group of iridescent purple fish that shimmer in the sunshine. My eyes go wide at the sight of what must be hundreds of them dancing in unison.
The buddy system works well for the two of us. Every time Finn sees a crab crawling along the seafloor or a brilliantly bright orange coral, he taps my shoulder or side to get my attention. Whenever I see something—an eel hiding with its creepy, dead-eye stare or massive leafy pieces of coral that are bigger than a chair—I grab his arm and point it out. We fall into a joyful back and forth, both of us in awe of the surrounding nature.
When we reach the edge of the coral, everything below us drops off into a dark blue abyss. The marine biologist mentioned the floor of the island itself plunges into a near-vertical drop. While I can’t fall down there—I’m suspended on the surface and snug in an aquatic belt—the visual makes me dizzy. Without hesitation, I turn around and redirect myself toward the heart of the reef.
A rapid tapping on my calf gets my attention, and Finn beckons me to his side. I shake my head, but he points with urgency below. His phone must have slipped out of his pocket, but I don’t know what he expects me to do about that. With my stomach twisting, I return to the edge of the coral where the island disappears into nothingness.
Nothingness, except for the sea turtle swimming our way.
I suck in air through my snorkel as the majestic, graceful creature glides toward me. The turtle moves like an elegant ballet dancer in slow motion, with simple yet powerful movements. As the animal cuts to my side, floating into the reef, I admire its dark eyes the size of boba pearls and its mighty fins with a pattern like cracked, drying lava. The shell is longer than my torso, longer than Finn’s, even. This sea turtle has seen some years.
Once the creature swims out of sight, I pop above the surface with an enormous smile etched on my face.
“Did you see that?” My shout is sloppy with sea water. “Did you see that?”
“I saw it,” Finn says through a laugh, his snorkel dangling off his mask the same way mine is.
“That was incredible!”
He found me a sea turtle. I want to fling myself at Finn and give him the biggest, tightest hug possible. Since we’re treading water, I can’t wrap him up in an embrace, so I grab his hand in gratitude instead.
“Thank you. That was…”
He squeezes my hand like he knows, then rolls his thumb over my knuckles a couple of times. The sensation sends my stomach into a somersault.
“Hey!” Melissa calls out from closer to shore. My brother snorkels by her side, his feet splashing. “Baby shark over here!”
“Oh, no,” I say to Finn. “Hard pass.”
“But it’s a baby.”
“But it’s a shark.”
That dimple appears again, and I lose the ability to think. “C’mon, I got you.” We dip our heads back underwater, and Finn leads me in Aaron and Mel’s direction, never letting go of my hand.