13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter 13
When Mason knocked on her door, Linda called out for him to let himself in. She was in the bathroom, braiding her hair into two high braids, which she would twist into buns on top of her head. She knew there was a sun visor that would keep the sun off her face and accommodate the hair style. A regular ball cap or straw hat would not.
“Where are you?” Mason called, entering the condo.
“Bathroom.” Linda stepped into the hallway and waved at him. “I’ll be right out.”
“All right. I’ll set up sandwich fixings on the counter. I assumed you had condiments, so I didn’t bring any. Good assumption?”
“Good assumption.”
“Perfection.”
Linda twisted the second braid and secured the bun with two pins. She slicked on some pink lip balm with SPF. She shoved it into a pocket, realizing she’d need it again after she ate.
Mason was cutting thick slices of bread when she emerged from the bathroom. While her Aunt Sandy liked to change the decor in the condo often, nothing changed in where she kept kitchen essentials. Mason made himself at home, grabbing a cutting board, a knife, and a plate to lay the bread slices on.
“Hey, hey!” he said, glancing up at her. “Cute hairstyle. You look like you’re ready for the pool.”
“Not quite. I still need to go through emails and follow up on a couple of items for work. You don’t mind if I do that while you fix your sandwich, do you?”
“Course not.”
“There’s a plate of cheese and fruit in the fridge. Pull it out if you want some.”
“Sure. Don’t mind me. Get your work done so we can go play.”
Linda smiled. He’d said those words to her countless times growing up. He brought the snack plate to the table, and she nibbled as she worked. When his sandwich was ready, he grabbed a soda and brought his lunch to the table.
“Are you okay if I eat here?” he asked, sitting across from her.
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
She picked up a few grapes and chewed them slowly. Her eyes started wandering over to Mason’s sandwich.
“Wow. That looks amazing.” The bread slices were thick, and he’d piled several layers of lettuce leaves and tomatoes among the sliced turkey and cheese.
“I must say, it is.” He nodded, his eyes flashing with humor and something else Linda couldn’t place. “Want me to make you one?”
“No, thanks. Working.” She turned her eyes back to the laptop, but the image of Mason’s eyes continued to flit across her mind.
She hit send on an email and marked an item off her list.
Scrunching her nose, she tried to remember the color of Wyatt’s eyes. She thought they were blue, but she wasn’t certain. Mason’s brown eyes always reminded her of her favorite fuzzy blanket. They were warm and cozy and made you feel good when you looked at them.
She completed her necessary work as Mason finished his sandwich. Closing her laptop, she said, “I think I’ll make a sandwich and take it down to the pool with me. I’m not ready to eat right now. And I’m ready for some pool time.”
“Yes!” Mason pumped his fist in the air. “Let’s pack a cooler. Is there still one in the front closet?”
“Yes. Right where it belongs.”
She’d put it back when she and Sorcha returned from the beach. The other benefit of staying at a family-owned condo instead of a hotel was that, apart from food, most anything they needed for vacation was in the unit. The front closet was packed with life jackets, snorkels, beach towels, tote bags, coolers, extra flip-flops (mostly for guests who’d forgotten to bring them), sand toys, blow-up floats, boogie boards, a portable horseshoe game set, and “sand-proof” beach blankets. Her aunt and uncle were considerate of their guests’ needs. A condo on the beach drew lots of friends and family, sometimes on short notice.
Mason grabbed the cooler, dumped the ice from the freezer in, and peeked in the refrigerator for beverages. “What are you in the mood for?”
“Grab a couple cans of Coke and a couple of seltzers. I’ll grab bottles for water.”
Her Aunt Sandy was anti-bottled water. She’d had an upscale water-filtration system put into the unit and bought many stainless steel water bottles. She said she preferred the taste of the water she filled herself. And she was anti-plastic and pro recycling.
Linda, too, was mindful of environmental effects and was happy to bottle her own water. She didn’t have the fancy water-filtration system at home, but her filtration pitcher worked just fine.
Soon they had everything they needed and started for the door.
“Oh, wait. I forgot my book.” Linda rushed to the bedroom and grabbed the book she was reading off the nightstand. She dropped into her tote, and out the door they went.
Mason worried he was babbling away like a three-year-old as they made their way down the elevator and out to the pool.
At this time of the day, the building was blocking the sun from one side of the pool, and several residents were happily sitting or lounging in the shade.
Mason raised an eyebrow at Linda as they passed through the blue safety fence surrounding the large kidney-bean-shaped pool.
Linda gestured towards two loungers that were still in the sun, and Mason proceeded to that corner. He was pleased that she pointed away from the other guests. He wanted alone time with Linda, not to share her companionship with Mr. Green or the others.
As they settled into their corner, putting beach towels on the lounge chairs, Mr. Green walked over to say hello. He chatted briefly, saying it was too hot in the sun to chitchat, and returned to his shady side of the pool.
Linda grabbed a bottle of sunscreen out of her tote and tossed it to Mason. “Will you put some lotion on my back?” she asked.
I thought you’d never ask. “Sure, if you’ll return the favor.”
Linda laughed softly. “I think our parents would be proud of the responsible adults we’ve become.”
“Indeed! I thought my mom’s head would explode when she reminded us for the one millionth time to use sunblock. It was a recurring sound of summer. If my mom wasn’t reminding us, your mom was.”
Mason moved his hands slowly, methodically, over Linda’s back and shoulders, enjoying the feel of her silky-smooth skin. If she questioned him, he could say he was making sure she had enough lotion. He wouldn’t drag it out so long it got weird. Probably.
“Certainly,” Linda said, dropping her head forward as he touched the back of her neck. “Well, they drilled it into us.”
Once Mason had thoroughly covered Linda’s back (twice), he handed the bottle back and sat on her chair with his back to her. From his vantage point, he was looking directly at the five senior residents on the other side of the pool. He waved and hoped they would stay in place.
He had to suppress a groan as Linda applied lotion to the back of his arms. He contemplated jumping in the pool immediately and then asking for more lotion as a “safety precaution”.
Lotion applied, Mason reluctantly moved back to his lounge chair and pulled a small portable speaker out of his bag, connecting it to his phone so they could listen to music. He found a playlist of his favorite summer music and pushed play. “Walking on Sunshine” by Katrina and the Waves started playing, and he leaned back and put his sunglasses on.
“You’re ridiculous,” Linda said.
“How do you figure?”
“First of all, those sunglasses are hideous, and second of all, this is your summer playlist, and the first song hasn’t changed in over six years.”
“Sunglasses came from the basket in the condo. I didn’t want to wear my expensive ones out here. I take care of my stuff. And I’ll happily replace this pair of ten-dollar rando glasses if I lose them. I’ve added songs to the list, but this is still my favorite summer song. So, make fun of me all you want.”
He didn’t mind the teasing at all. It felt like Linda was letting her guard down around him. She seemed freer than she had five days ago when they’d first reconnected.
Has it only been five days? The hollowness of the years without her was fading. It was feeling more and more like it’d been a few months since he’d seen her last, not six long and soulless years.
They still had a long way to go to get back to where they’d been before he’d lost his mind and run, but he was hopeful they were on the right path.
He watched Linda pull stuff out of her bag and get situated. Her large bottle of water with the “Seaside Bay” logo went on the concrete next to her right hand. The small handheld, battery-operated fan that squirted water to keep you cool went next to the water bottle. Two magazines and a book entitled “Buried in Bougainvillea: A Hibiscus Island Mystery” were on the beach towel next to her hand. Next, she pulled out a reusable silicone bag filled with pretzels, which she began eating.
She seemed to settle in, and Mason turned his gaze past her. From this vantage point, he could see a stretch of the white sand beach. There was a good assortment of tourists and locals having fun or lounging on the beach. He noticed a canopy being erected in front of the condo building next door.
“Look,” he said. “Something’s happening next door.”
Linda glanced to where he pointed. “Hmm. Maybe Meri will know what’s going on.”
“Good call. I’ll run and ask.”
He enjoyed having a task to do. Even though he was supposed to be spending his time here in Florida chilling and making important decisions about what to do in life, he was best on his feet, moving and doing. That’s why nursing was such a great role for him. He liked the fast pace, the constant interaction with patients, doctors, other nurses, office and technical staff. He loved meeting new people, which made the traveling gigs so appealing to him. But now, the thought of putting down roots again and making genuine, deep connections was taking on a new appeal.
He found Meri in her office, stirring a cup of tea and eyeing a plate of chocolate chip cookies.
“Hey, Meri! How’s it going?”
“Ah, Mason.” She lifted the plate of cookies, and offered them to him, but he declined. “I’ll be better once we get through the festival this weekend. My phone has been ringing off the hook with last-minute emergencies. How can I help you?”
“Do you know what’s going on next door? They’re setting up a large canopy and moving tables onto the sand.”
“Yes. They’re having a luau tonight. Pig on a spit. Live music. And they’ll have fireworks after dark. It’s their building’s fiftieth anniversary.”
“Oh, cool. Think they’d mind a couple of interlopers?”
“Interlope away, young Mason.” Her phone rang, and she shooed him away with her hand and a wink.
Mason whistled as he strolled through the rec room back to the pool. Now he had another mission to accomplish. Take Linda outside tonight to watch fireworks.