Chapter 35
Three sets of eyes stare at me. One in pure disbelief. Another with pure hatred. And the last, the only one that matters, with deep love but confusion.
When I say deep love, I mean it. Keston’s dark brown eyes hold me in their gaze as if I am precious. Like he wants to protect me from everything. Probably from myself too.
His warm embrace surrounds me even when his arms are not touching me.
“Can I talk to you alone, Keston?” I ask.
He nods.
“I’ll see you later, Tabitha. Thanks for your help.”
“What about . . . ,” Tabitha starts. She shifts her stance toward Keston, but she
doesn’t leave Kelley’s side.
“Later, we can finish it later.” Keston’s voice is strained.
Kelley to his credit does not confront me about my outrageous lie. The look in his one grey, one green eye is now resigned. As if he’s heard a lot of lies.
In the fading light, I see his complexion is olive. His too-long hair is streaked by the sun, but it’s not blond. He could be a surfer, a farmer, a hitchhiker, or the lead singer in a band.
Where Keston is classically handsome and easy on the eyes, Kelley is someone who it’s hard to look away from, but you don’t know why.
“I have something for you, CJ,” he says as I turn to leave.
I’m dying to know if it’s the other diary. But it’ll have to wait.
I murmur something like, “Okay, thanks,” and hurry off.
Keston closes out his shift and gives Dex instructions for the rest of the evening.
I sit on a bar stool hugging my arms and legs, feeling guilty as sin. Though I have not done anything wrong.
Dex is unusually quiet, avoiding my eyes. He cheers up when Keston whispers something to him and claps him on the back.
“Come on troublemaker.” Keston throws an arm around my shoulders. In his other hand he’s carrying his dry bag and a large machete.
I gulp. “Why do we need that?”
He grunts, “You never know. Do you have what you need?”
I don’t, but I’m not about to drive the golf cart back to my villa until I’ve spoken to him.
“Yep,” I say.
“Good. I have a surprise for you.” His smile is warm and loving. His cheerfulness makes me think I imagined the whole Keston-Kelley encounter.
“Okay, but I want to talk to you too.”
“We will have plenty of time for that.”
“Cool.”
Instead of heading for the parking lot where he normally parks his motorbike, we traverse the winding stone path to the resort’s dock.
Tied up there is the gleaming catamaran that left us behind on No Man’s Land six months ago. I shudder when I see it.
“Where are we going?”
Keston points to his blue boat tied up behind the resort’s big catamaran.
“Isn’t it getting late for a boat ride?” I ask.
He helps me in and starts the engine.
“Never. The sea is very calm tonight. I want to show you something.”
I settle into the seat next to his, and watch as he leaps out, unties the line, tosses it into the boat and jumps back in. I notice his leg is working beautifully, no hesitation or small jerky movements like before.
“How’s your leg feeling?” I ask.
He sticks it out. “See for yourself.”
Muscles pop out in his thigh and calf.
I blink. “Looks alright to me.”
“You good?” he asks.
I can tell his question is asking more than whether I am comfortable in this seat, but I play along. “Yes, I’m good.”
“We’re going to cruise along the coastline for a bit,” he says, steering us out to sea, before turning the boat and zipping past bushy green hills, long stretches of golden beaches, a lagoon that opens into the sea, and numerous small outcroppings of land that are nothing more than high rocks with a few trees on them that look as if they broke off from the mainland long ago.
“I have to keep my eyes open to see if any new rocks have emerged since the last time that I motored up the coast,” he says.
“Does that happen often? New formations in the sea, I mean.”
“Not really.”
He points out every waterfall cascading between the crevices in the mountains.
“This is such a beautiful island,” I sigh.
“Like a Garden of Eden,” he grins. “That’s what it’s been called.”
I settle back in my seat, eyes on the orange ball of a sun hovering on the horizon between sea and sky.
The air is warm and humid, but the breeze coming off the sea is cooling.
“This is gorgeous.” I trail my hand off the side of the boat enjoying the sea spray wetting it whenever we maneuver over a hilly wave.
“That rock in the sea is fairly new.” Keston points to a high formation of boulders disconnected from the mainland. One lone tree grows on the very top.
“Looks like a lighthouse tree.”
“That’s a good name for it,” he says. “It has to be sturdy and solid to survive alone like that against high waves and wind.”
I snap a photo of the tree with my phone’s camera. “It looks lonely.”
“This rock has been separated from the mainland for about fifty years. One minute there was nothing here, and the next there was an earthquake and the edge of the mountain broke off and drifted to this spot. You can squint and see how the pieces used to line up.”
I squint as Keston slows down the boat. “Yes,” I shout. “It’s like a jigsaw puzzle.”
“My Dad used to bring me out here fishing. He told me about this rock, showed me how it once connected to the island.”
My ears perk up. Is he telling me about his father as a transition to talking about Kelley?
“What else did he show you?”
Keston flings his arm out. “Everything. We spent a lot of time cruising up and down this coast. I know every inlet, every bay, probably where every bird nest is located too.”
I laugh. “Sounds like you guys were close.”
His face shuts down. “Yeah.”
I have so many questions but with the noise of the engine, I don’t want to miss anything he says. I’ll hold my questions for the time being.
I’m just going to sit here and admire Keston as he navigates our boat through the highs and lows of the dark blue waves.
Every once in a while, he turns to me with a loving smile. Far be it for me to ruin this moment.