Chapter Twenty-Three Tula
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tula
I’d jumped in the shower and done my best to scrub the scents of disinfectant from my hair and skin.
I’d been tempted to dress super casual, as if to reiterate that Nathan and I were just buddies.
I pulled on a new T-shirt and white shorts, which no longer grabbed my ass as tightly as they had a few days ago.
I’d taken a few extra minutes with my hair, even using a hair dryer, and applied a little makeup.
And then at the last minute, I changed into a casual blue sundress and sandals.
Nathan arrived right on time. He got out of his truck and walked to the front door as if it were a proper date.
I opened the door seconds after he’d knocked.
His damp hair was brushed off his tanned face, making his blue eyes pop.
He wore a V-neck shirt, shorts, and docksiders.
He didn’t need to do much to look amazing.
“Hey,” I said. “Want to come in?”
“We better get going if we’re going to catch the sunset.”
The days were the longest this time of year, but June meant vacationers were checking in this time of day, and traffic was going to be thick. “Sure.”
I grabbed my cross-body and closed and locked the door behind me. “Are we leaving out of Wanchese?”
“No, I’m borrowing a boat from a guy who docks in Colington.” The neighborhood was located on the west side of the barrier island and faced Albemarle Sound and the sunsets.
“Do you have boat connections all over the Outer Banks?”
“Boat people run in similar circles,” he joked.
He reached the truck first and opened my door.
“Wow, I don’t ever remember you opening a door for me.”
“I’ve evolved.”
I climbed in and hooked my seat belt. The crumbs on the seat and floor mat were gone. My God, did he vacuum for me?
“So why the sunset ride?” I asked.
“It’s beautiful. And we could both use a little beauty.”
After a fifteen-minute drive, he turned onto Colington Road. We wove past an eclectic mix of small homes, trailers, and some larger houses. We crossed a small bridge that connected to Colington Island, where the yacht club was located.
“You have serious connections,” I said.
“Jeff keeps a house and a boat down here.”
“Jeff from Virginia Beach and the last dive?”
“One and the same.”
We parked in the lot, and he grabbed a small cooler. I followed him to a docked pontoon boat. It had a flat bottom, perfect for the sound’s shallow waters. He climbed aboard and held out his hand for me. I took it, liking the calloused warmth of his fingers around mine.
He set the cooler down and unknotted the ropes attached to the dock. From under the driver’s seat cushion, he removed a key that fit the ignition.
The sun had dipped lower, and the air wasn’t as hot as it had been. I took the seat beside his. “Any destination?”
“Thought we’d ride north.”
That meant under the Wright Memorial Bridge and along the coast, past the towns of Southern Shores and Duck. I wondered if we could meet up without talking about or being in the proximity of the Oceanus.
He nodded to the cooler. “Drinks if you want one.”
I opened the cooler and selected a light beer. He took a soda. For as long as I’d known Nathan, I’d never seen him drink on the boat.
The boat rumbled along the calm waters. The breeze was soft, and the evening sun had softened. This was nice. I’d forgotten how beautiful this area was.
“Anyone special in your life?” I asked.
He looked amused. “What brought that up?”
“Just curious. There’s a seven-year gap in my knowledge of Nathan.”
“I’ve dated. Once it was serious. I thought she was the one.”
“Who?”
The sunlight reflected off his hat, shadowing his features. “Doesn’t matter. We weren’t right for each other.”
“Why wasn’t she the one?”
“I travel. I keep on the move. She wanted a house and the white picket fence.”
Made me think about my ex. “Do you regret breaking up with her?”
He hesitated. “She’s married now and expecting her first child. Happy ending.”
“For her or you?”
“Both of us.” He regarded me. “What about you?”
“My ex-husband wanted the house and the yard, and I thought I did. I moved into his place. Got all settled. Decorated a little. But we just drifted. He ended up moving out and filed for divorce.”
“You got the house?”
“No. I’m now officially evicted.”
“What drew you to him?” He kept his tone neutral, but I sensed a keen interest.
“Dave was as solid and unwavering as a mountain. It was good at first. But it began to feel restricting, like a straitjacket. He figured out that he didn’t make me happy. And he stopped trying.”
“Where’s Dave now?”
“He found a sweet little thing that has no hang-ups. I expect a wedding announcement on social media soon.”
“You follow him?”
“I did. I haven’t checked lately.”
“You miss him?”
“No. My therapist said I’m emotionally unavailable.”
“I don’t get that vibe from you. If anything, you’re overloaded with emotions.”
I’d never thought about it that way. There was so much boiling inside me that I had to keep my distance to survive.
I stared out over the calm waters of the sound as he angled the boat under the bridge that joined the mainland to the Outer Banks. The air was soft, and the sound waters smooth as glass. Something about this moment felt right. “I thought I was like Mom. She could be distant.”
“She wasn’t an easy person.”
“Neither am I.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I always got along with you great.”
“Really? We fought a lot.”
A smile teased his lips. “Not about anything big. Always small stuff.”
All our fights had felt huge to me, but I’d been a teenager. And now I could see he’d been right.
“I’m not sure I’ll go back to the city.” The admission surprised me. “I think cleaning houses suits me.”
“You should find a way to work diving into that life plan. You’re one of the best.”
“Not as good as Mom.”
“Better. She took risks that I didn’t like.” He drew in a breath. “I loved her like family, but she was hardheaded.”
“She knew what she wanted.”
“She did.” Another pause. “But you aren’t her. You don’t have to live her life to be a success.”
“I’ve been chasing my mother all my life.”
“You don’t have to. Do you know all the divers had something nice to say about you? All they saw was kindness and potential.”
“Did they notice that I’m still uptight about getting under the water?”
“We all should be. The ocean isn’t kind to anyone who underestimates its power.”
“Still freaks me out a lot.”
“Give it time. You’re a natural. I’d bet once you get in the water, you’ll realize that you’ve arrived home. You ready to dive tomorrow?”
The boat cut through smooth waters. “Will the dreams of me drowning go away?”
He frowned. “You get those?”
“Not as often anymore. But yes, I still have nightmares.”
My attention drifted to the shore and the docks and houses on the sound. “I couldn’t get in a pool until two years ago. Water terrified me. But I slowly started to miss it. So, I began swimming laps at the gym pool.”
“Respect the water, and you’ll be fine.”
“That’s what I keep saying.”
“You need to dive.”
No wiggle room to back out. “I will.”
“Good.” He maneuvered the boat up to a spot in the center of the Currituck Sound and cut the engines. “Ready for dinner?”
Bracketed by the mainland and Outer Banks, we weren’t close to any dock. “Here?”
“Sure. Thought it would be fun.”
“Is this a date?”
His sunglasses reflected my comical expression and hid his eyes. “What do you think?”
“Honestly, I’m not really sure.”
He opened the cooler and pulled out a couple of wrapped sandwiches. “Me either.”
It was good for now. But he would move on when this project was finished. And I had no desire to chase anyone around the world again. But I liked where I was in this moment. “Are there fries in that cooler?”
“No, but there are bags of chips.”
I beamed. “You had me at ‘chips.’”