Chapter 42
CHAPTER
“PUT YOUR HEAD under.”
“You put your head under,” I tell Luc.
We’re standing in the shallow end of the public pool. It’s not open swim day for dogs. It’s “teach Penn how to not drown day.” And I spent a good hour before I got here trying on different bathing suits, Sally my only audience.
“Does this one look like I’m trying too hard?
” I asked my dog about a black-and-white striped tankini.
I bought it for last year’s trip to Maui but never put it on.
Instead, I sat beneath an umbrella and watched Bruce and Circe take surf lessons.
When Circe asked me to join them, I feigned a sinus infection.
“How about this one?” I said, spinning to show Sally a navy-blue suit with a plunging neckline that Kiki insisted I buy when we joined the Hunts for spring break in Mexico. Sally looked away. “You’re right, it’s not right for a swim lesson.”
In the end, I chose a simple black tank suit. It was Circe’s, bought for her PE class last year. Sally licked my shin, so she approved. She got one of the treats I now make for her each week and an extra-long belly rub.
“If you don’t put your face in the water,” Luc now says, laughing, “you can’t learn to swim.”
“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.” I make my way to the side. All around me, parents swim with their children, the tots laughing and splashing as they paddle with varying degrees of success.
Luc joins me, chest glistening, looking like a very fit lifeguard, his red swim trunks bright beneath the water. “Why don’t we start with floating?”
I grip the side of the pool, the concrete cold beneath pruned fingers. “I don’t float.”
The dimple in Luc’s left cheek flashes. “You can float. Promise. Trust me?”
“Okay?”
“First thing. Let go of the wall.”
Slowly, I do, standing in front of him, the water up to my shoulders.
His hands circle my waist, then he lifts and places one palm between my shoulder blades, the other at the base of my spine.
I’m on my back. The bottom of the pool is no longer beneath my feet.
And Luc’s hands are less than a millimeter from my bare skin.
Despite the cold water, desire warms my insides.
“Take a deep breath, then hold it,” he instructs.
Luc slides his hands free … and I’m floating.
When I need to breathe, he has me stand.
I floated! Next, he shows me how to scull my hands at my sides, so there’s no need to use breath in my lungs to keep me afloat.
The scalloped motions send me away from the safety of the shallow end, but Luc swims beside me all the way to the far side of the pool.
I grip the same curb in the deep end that he dragged my limp body over a few weeks ago.
“Way to go! Now you know you can keep yourself afloat and get to safety.”
I tentatively smile. “What’s next?”
We take the ladder and return to the shallow end.
I finally put my face in the water, blow bubbles like an infant, and kick my feet.
By the end of the hour, I’m doing a messy breaststroke—it’s easier to breathe than the front crawl—and make it across the shallow end, side to side.
Despite being a remedial swimmer, a sense of accomplishment rushes in. “Thank you.”
Luc grins. “My pleasure.”
“You missed your true calling as a swim coach,” I say after we towel off, then sit on plastic lounge chairs.
He laughs. “In a lot of ways this is way more fun than my old job.”
“But then Frank wouldn’t have his elevator.”
“Good point. How’s project Aletheia going?”
“I’ve hit some stumbling blocks,” I hedge, not ready to share what happened.
Aletheia murmurs, Do you know why Luc left his lucrative career in Silicon Valley to return to teaching?
He wasn’t happy.
I registered evasiveness on his part …
Aletheia was a lot of things, but she was incapable of lying to me. “You know about my life and divorce. When was your last serious relationship?”
Luc folds his towel. “Three years ago. Riley. She’s an assistant DA in Palo Alto.”
“Why did it end?”
“Riley knew I didn’t want children. She went off birth control without telling me and got pregnant, then decided to keep the baby.
” He rubs the back of his neck. “Obviously, it couldn’t have happened without me.
I offered to pay child support and provide everything she needed. But not to be a parent.”
My stomach plummets. “So, you have a child?” A child you abandoned.
“Riley miscarried at four months. I thought it wouldn’t affect me, but it did. It’s one thing to say you don’t want to be a father, but then when you are, even if the baby hasn’t been born yet, it’s no longer black or white. Emotions hit hard—you know?”
“I do.” There’s true sadness in his eyes. “That must’ve been painful. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks.” A volleyball bounces its way over from the pool. He tosses it back to a gaggle of little boys.
I hesitate, then ask, “What are we doing? I mean, you don’t want children. I have a daughter. Is this just for fun?”
Luc leans in, kisses me, and my insides ignite.
“Are you having fun?” he asks with a sly smile.
“Yes. But I have Circe to think about.”
Luc nods. “I get it. Look, I’ve been transparent that I’m trying to figure out my life. I don’t know what the future holds. Do you?”
I shake my head.
“So, let’s just see where this goes?”
Can I do that? “Tell me about your family.”
Luc rubs his hair with the towel, leaving it adorably disheveled.
“I have one brother. Matt. He’s been married for twenty-one years.
Helen is from Wisconsin. She’s an author and writes children’s books.
She even illustrates them herself. Matt works in finance and manages a hedge fund.
He’s a bit of a workaholic, but loves to play hockey or soccer with his kids on the weekends and makes great pizzas from scratch. ”
“Matt knows how to cook?”
Luc chuckles. “He has a limited repertoire, but yes.”
“And their kids?”
“Gavin and Carter are twelve and fifteen—bright lights, both, and tons of fun. Gavin is obsessed with astronomy, and Carter loves chemistry, is a bit of a mad scientist. They’ve visited for a month the past four summers.
We mountain bike in Marin, SUP, hike, spend time at the SF State Observatory, whitewater raft, and go camping.
This July, I’ve planned a two-week kayaking trip in Alaska.
Both boys are desperate to see a grizzly, though I’d happily skip an encounter. ”
“Understandable,” I say. “You’re a one-man summer camp.”
“Spending time with the boys is like that for me, too.”
“Yet you don’t want children of your own.”
Luc’s smile fades. “I’m a realist, especially these days.”
I wait for more, but he’s fallen silent. What isn’t he telling me? Luc traces light circles on my knee with the tip of his finger, sending scatter shots of heat across my skin.
“Did you always want to be a mother?”
“Yes. In a perfect world, the land of someday. After earning my PhD, building a career, creating stability.”
“How’d you figure out the mom thing so young?”
“When Circe was born, I just knew what not to do. So, I depended on books, blogs, and Bruce, who had a more normal childhood, to guide me, plus, through the years, TV and celebrity therapists like Dr. Beth, Dr. Bob, favorite authors, and people like talk show host Olivia and Tanya Decker.”
“Substitute parents?”
I nod.
“If you don’t mind me saying, seems like there’s a theme.”
“A theme?”
“Looking to everyone but yourself for advice, answers.”
Aletheia. “I’m done doing that.”
“Great, because I believe in you, Penn Roberts.”
He leans in and kisses me again. Luc’s attention, how it makes my body instantly react, unbalances me. But I’m not quite done asking questions. “Have you considered going back to Silicon Valley once you get teaching out of your bloodstream?”
Luc’s eyes flick away. “No.”
Is he hiding something?
Trust your gut, Arrya whispers.
My gut says that I don’t know enough. “Last question. For now.”
Luc’s dimple appears. “Shoot.”
“Why me? I mean, you’ve clearly been successful, you’re not bad looking, the world is your oyster.” He laughs, then runs his thumb along my cheek. I shiver in the best way and barely resist the urge to climb onto his lap.
“Are you fishing for compliments?”
“Maybe.”
“Then let me remind you. At twenty-one, you were brilliant and kind. Who else would wait in the ER for four hours and sneak a lollipop from the jar for kids to give me after I was stitched and bandaged?”
I’d forgotten that part. It was cherry and I told Luc it was for being clumsy but brave.
“The woman you are now,” Luc continues, “is still one of the smartest people I know. Smart is damn sexy. I can’t believe how fast you compiled Aletheia. You leapt over hurdles that would’ve taken anyone else years to overcome, if ever.”
He has no idea how far things went.
“You’re not hard to look at, either.” Luc takes my hand and turns it over, traces the lines of my palm, setting off goosebumps.
“This line here,” he says, his finger skimming the length of the line from my middle finger to pinkie, “tells me that you’re working through some stuff after getting a rotten deal.
This one,” he says, tracing my lifeline, “says you adore your daughter, and she comes first.” He taps the horizontal line across my wrist. “That one clearly states you love an old dog—”
“Sally isn’t old. She’s like fine wine, perfectly aged.” I watch the skin around Luc’s eyes crinkle. He leans in and his lips are soft at first, grow more insistent. I don’t want to stop. My hands slide onto his muscular thighs and his find my waist, pull me closer.
“Get a room—get a room—get a room—” a knobby-kneed boy sings as he races by.
Luc cracks up. “How about we shower and get something to eat?”
I joke, “I have worked up an appetite.”
We grab our towels and phones and head into the locker room. I find myself hoping our meal will be consumed at his apartment and shower quickly, thoughts stacking one on top of the next as I dress …
Would Luc be a good influence on Circe?
Would he ever want a relationship with her?
If he doesn’t, that’s a deal-breaker.
Am I certain Luc and I want the same things in life?
I still don’t know what I’m looking for. A lover? Partner? Marriage?
He walked away from his career. Will Luc eventually toss me away, too?
Maybe …
You’re getting way ahead of yourself!
I’ve spent my entire adult life thinking through every move, walking a tightrope to have the life I imagined would be perfect.
The result? Bruce had a protracted affair.
Circe blames me for our divorce. Val and Kiki ridiculed and betrayed me.
I’m now making choices outside of the gilded cage I created.
Luc’s right; neither of us knows exactly what we want, what the future holds.
We’re both in transition. But things don’t have to be perfect to still be worth exploring.
Ultimately, I’ll make the right decision for Circe and myself. And I do trust that he’s a good guy.
We meet outside the pool, make our way to a food truck, order tacos. It starts to drizzle, and the wind kicks up.
“Eat at my place?” Luc suggests.
My stomach does a double flip. “Okay.”