Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Zane’s internal body clock woke him. Kylie was lying in his arms. She stirred in her sleep, snuggling closer to him.
He didn’t know how he was going to let go of this woman.
They had gone into it, both agreeing it was a brief affair, no strings attached, but everything had changed for him.
Unfortunately, they lived very different lives in far apart, separate states.
It would be impossible to blend their lives.
Besides, they had been in the magic bubble of the Bay.
He doubted their relationship would survive outside these few, blissful weeks.
He likened it to those reality dating shows on TV.
Contestants were thrown together, twenty-four/seven, for a brief period of time.
Proximity led to intense feelings. Words of love were spoken.
Commitments were made. Then the real world set in after the show’s cameras stopped rolling.
Life got in the way. What had seemed to be two compatible lovers was exposed, problems surface.
Relationships ended—usually badly. Zane wanted to leave the Bay and his memories of Kylie intact.
Still, saying goodbye was going to be the most difficult thing he’d ever done.
His cell alarm went off, and he reached out to the nightstand to silence it.
Kylie pushed herself up, resting on her forearm. “Ready for today’s race?”
“I’m going to need to fuel up. The kitchen isn’t open to guests this early, though. We’ll have to go downstairs and raid it.”
While she donned the cocktail dress and heels she had worn to dinner last night, he tossed on a tank and running shorts, doing a few light stretches to warm his limbs. They went downstairs and into one of the kitchens, where they found Tyler sitting at a table, eating his own breakfast.
“Sorry to invade your space, Chef,” Zane apologized. “I need to grab something to eat since I’m running in the 10K this morning.”
“So am I,” Tyler informed him. “It’s an annual event I do with Dad. I suggest oatmeal and fruit. I’ll grab some for both of you.”
“Perfect,” he said. “That’s my go-to on the morning of a race. Most people think runners need protein before they run, but it’s actually simple carbs which do the trick. Your body needs sugar in the blood to rev up for a race.”
“Exactly,” Tyler agreed. “Protein is for after the race, so your muscles can begin to heal.”
The chef took the last bite of his own oatmeal and prepared breakfast for them.
As they ate, they talked about running.
“I ran on our 4x4 relay in high school and was also a high jumper,” Tyler said. “Kylie here was a track star in her own right.”
“Those days seem a long time ago,” she said wistfully. “I kept up running through college, but after I graduated, my job and marriage took up my free time.”
Zane said, “I started running because Sullivan did. It’s addictive and something I can do on the road since I travel a lot. I think better if I stay in good physical shape.”
“Do you have any idea what your dad might have in mind for me?” Tyler asked.
He shrugged, having a good idea of what Dad wanted from the impressive chef. “I can’t speak for him, Tyler. We’ve never talked about you, other than me briefly mentioning that you were being hired to head up food and bev here at Tidewater. That’s a conversation for you and Dad.”
“Got it,” Tyler said.
They finished their breakfast, and Zane said, “See you at the race. Good luck to you and your dad.”
“Same to you.”
They left the kitchen and headed to the elevators, and Kylie asked, “Are we going to wait for the first ferry or take the skiff?”
“I think it’s better if we head to the mainland now. Having my own transportation will let me leave when I need to.”
“Then we’ll be able to run by my apartment and still get you to the high school in plenty of time.”
He took them across the water and tied up the small boat, accompanying her to her car.
While she took a quick shower and dressed, Zane did some more stretching, going over the race in his mind.
It would be a little over six miles, and he would treat it as a miniature version of his upcoming marathon.
Most runners would finish the race in fifty to seventy minutes, while true competitors would complete it in thirty-five minutes or so.
He didn’t want to join in the blistering pace those top runners would set.
Instead, he was aiming to finish at around forty-five minutes, not kicking into high gear until the final two miles of the race.
Kylie appeared, looking like the girl next door in a red, white, and blue T-shirt and denim cutoffs.
“I’ll drop you at the high school and then head up to the square where the race always concludes,” she said. “Any idea what you want to do after you run?”
“I’ll need to hydrate and eat. Grab a shower. Then I’d like to watch the parade and go to the carnival. That was a big deal when I was a kid.”
“It still is.”
They returned to her car and drove to the high school, where a crowd gathered in the east parking lot. She brought the car to a stop and leaned over, kissing him.
“Good luck. I’ll be cheering for you.”
He slipped his hand around her nape and pulled her close again, claiming one final kiss.
“See you at the finish line.”
Zane went to the registration table and received his number, which he pinned to his shirt. He walked around the parking lot twice at a brisk pace before doing a few more strenuous stretches to warm up.
Someone with a bullhorn told the runners to assemble at the starting line, and he joined the sea of runners, waving to Tyler and his dad. The starting pistol went off, and he began running his own race, not paying attention to what others did.
As he ran through the streets of Driftwood Bay, childhood memories flooded him.
New ones had also been made, thanks to the time he had spent with Kylie.
He passed the city park, where he had played pick-up basketball and stopped for snow cones.
He ran by the police and fire stations. Eventually, he made his way toward the town square, turning on the steam as he increased his pace considerably for this last third of the race.
Running had always made him feel alive, never more so than when he turned the corner into the town square and heard all the residents of the Bay cheering on the approaching runners.
Despite the place being flooded with people, he immediately spied Kylie, who jumped up and down, waving and cheering him on.
He crossed the finish line and jogged past it another twenty yards, coming to a halt. Zane placed his palms on his thighs, bending slightly as he caught his breath.
Kylie appeared, throwing her arms around him, and giving him a lingering kiss. She broke it. “You did great, Zane. Let’s get you something to drink.”
Volunteers stood nearby, and one of them handed him a bottle of water, which he downed immediately. He tossed it in the nearby recycling bin and claimed a second one, finishing it, as well.
“Let’s go back to your place,” he said, his breathing beginning to slow.
When they arrived, he jumped into the shower. By the time he got out and dressed, Kylie had made breakfast for him. He sat at the table, seeing scrambled eggs and bacon, a bowl of fresh fruit, whole wheat toast and cereal before him.
“I made coffee. Would you also like some OJ?”
“Definitely. I’m still thirsty not to mention ravenous.”
He forced himself to take his time eating.
She asked where he would be going next for work.
Usually, Zane had a good idea of his upcoming schedule, thanks to Emily’s concise emails and updating of his calendar.
This was the first time in his working career he had deliberately ignored what lay ahead.
“I head back to New York next. I’m not sure how long I’ll be there before I go out on the road again. Em will let me know.”
“You’re fortunate to have such a terrific assistant,” she said. “I’m glad she’ll be able to take care of Nellie and Neville and come up with an itinerary for them.”
“Em’s the best,” he agreed. “She’ll do a fantastic job putting together travel for Gran and Gramps without overtaxing them.”
Zane stopped himself before he could say that his assistant would also be happy to schedule a trip for Kylie to come to New York.
He told himself that he needed to leave everything between them in the Bay.
He usually tried to stop by Texas sometime in the spring each year and visit his grandparents for a few days.
He wondered if he would even call Kylie when he did so—or simply let things remain in the past.
“Let’s get a move on it. The parade starts soon.”
The parade kicked off on the other side of the high school. The runners had assembled in the teachers’ parking lot, while the floats and participants in the parade gathered on the west side of the school, where students parked.
“Where do you want to watch?” he asked.
“I think somewhere along the way. The square will be way too crowded by now. The parade starts and does a loop, ending back at the high school. Growing up, we had a street with a great view that Mom would take us to. We’ll go there.”
“Want to take some lawn chairs with us?” he asked.
“No. We’ll just park ourselves on the curb, if that’s okay with you.”
They left the apartment, driving to a residential street a few blocks off the square. Kylie parked and they got out, walking up the street to one which was a main artery leading into the square.
“The parade heads back up Hudson,” she said, “so this is a terrific place to watch.”
Within minutes, he heard the sound of the Pirates marching band.
Soon, floats of all sizes passed them, representing organizations in town, such as Lions’ Club and the Women’s Club.
Businesses contributed floats, as did some of the clubs and sports teams at the high school.
A flatbed truck carrying cheerleaders passed them, the girls tossing candy to kids, who scrambled to retrieve it.
“So, that’s what you did back in the day? I was too old by the time you were in high school. My days of spending part of my summers in the Bay had already passed.”
“Sorry you weren’t around to see me in all my glory,” she teased.
“I’m sorry I missed it. You’re what, thirty-one? I just turned thirty-six two days ago.”
Shock filled her face. “Zane Wagner! You didn’t tell me that you had a birthday.”
He shrugged. “No one ever made a big deal of it when I was growing up, so I fell in with that line of thinking. It’s really just another day on the calendar.”
“I would have at least baked you a cake. Or cupcakes,” she protested. “Even brownies.”
“I didn’t want the fuss, Kylie.”
She studied him a moment. “You’re very humble, Zane. It’s one of the many things I like about you.”
He looked away, swallowing the lump which formed in his throat, turning his attention back to the parade.
When it came to an end, he asked if she wanted to go to the carnival.
“Of course,” Kylie replied. “It’s not Fourth of July if you don’t hit the carnival and eat funnel cake.”
They walked half a mile to the open field where the carnival was held every year. He made certain that he bought a funnel cake for her, and they shared it, powdered sugar going everywhere. He leaned over and licked the corner of her mouth.
“Mmm. You taste good.”
They stopped by different booths, playing games of chance, and he won a stuffed tiger for her.
They ate corny dogs and washed them down with a tart lemonade.
During the hours they were there, they ran into various friends of hers, along with their families, as well as both her sisters-in-law and their children.
Zane assumed Danny was on ferry duty today, while Karl had taken Kylie’s place on the fishing charter.
He pulled Annie aside. “Thanks again for the gift of this day with Kylie.”
“I hope you use it wisely,” Annie responded.
Eventually, they made their way back to Kylie’s car and returned to her apartment. He didn’t want a sense of dread hanging over them and said, “Let’s treat this like any night, okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed, her voice small and tight.
“Let’s see what’s on TV,” Zane suggested, picking up the remote and dialing around. “Oh, look. Bringing up Baby has just started. We’ve only missed about five minutes of it.”
They huddled on the couch together, his arm around her shoulders, their fingers entwined as they watched Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn trade barbs.
When the movie ended, he led her to the bedroom and made love to her a final time.
Afterword, he enfolded her in his arms and listened as her breathing evened out.
Zane determined not to fall asleep. He wanted to enjoy these last few hours, holding her close, her light, floral scent bringing back all the good times they had shared.
At a little after three, Zane decided he would leave. Slowly, he released her and slipped from the bed, donning his clothes.
“Are you leaving?”
The question came from Kylie, and he was glad he couldn’t see her face in the dark.
“Yes.”
“That’s kind of a chickenshit move, Zane. Leaving without saying goodbye.”
“I didn’t want a goodbye scene between us burned into my memory,” he admitted. “I wanted to walk out that door, thinking it was just another day—and that I would see you tomorrow.”
He sat on the bed, reaching out and finding her hand. He clasped it.
“You’ve made my time in the Bay very special, Kylie. I’ll never forget you.”
“You don’t realize what you’ve done for me, Zane,” she said softly. “I was adrift, and you helped me to ride the tide. I’ve become more confident. I feel I have a purpose in my life and that I’m better for having known you. I’ll let you go now. à bient?t.”
He had taken French in high school. Kylie had not told him goodbye. The loose translation of the French phrase was ‘see you soon.’
“à bient?t, Kylie,” he said, bending and brushing his lips against hers a final time.
Zane exited her apartment, knowing he was leaving behind the best woman he had ever had in his life. He was a better man for having known her. A dull ache made his heart heavy, knowing the rest of his life would be spent yearning for what he could never have.