Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Three Years Earlier
“Unca No-No! Watch!”
Izzy tensed up on the beach like a sprinter, then ran full tilt to the empty lifeguard chair twenty feet away. Her sunhat flopped in the ocean breeze.
“Wow, kiddo. You’re getting so fast,” Noah called. He was on his knees, adding the final touches to the sandcastle and moat he’d been building with his goddaughter over the last hour.
The beach was almost empty now. The nearest family was fifty yards away, and the weather was bordering on chilly, thanks to the heavy canopy of cloud cover and gusts of wind. Soon though, hundreds of people would crowd onto the strip of land to watch the fireworks.
“We should probably get going,” he said to Bobby, who was lying on his beach chair with his hat over his face. “Izzy’s gonna get hungry.”
Bobby lifted the hat. “You’re right. It figures that of all the weekends we finally get to visit, a hurricane decides to roll through.”
“Yeah. At least Gertrude is polite enough to wait until tomorrow though. Fireworks are still on tonight, and we can take Izzy to a movie or the mermaid mini golf tomorrow. Plus, there should be some kickass driftwood and seashells left behind once the hurricane moves on.”
“I can’t believe you live here now,” Bobby said, sitting up.
“In a tiny-ass apartment that’s not even that close to the beach,” Noah said.
“Still. You’re killing it with the furniture, and you’re just living your dream. I’m proud of you, man.”
“Thanks.” Noah turned around to check on Izzy, who was bent over, looking at something on the sand.
He sifted sand through his fingers and breathed in the salty air. It really was his happy place. “I think it’s going to be short-lived though.”
“Why?”
“Dad’s health is getting worse. They can’t handle the sanctuary on their own. It was selfish of me to come out here in the first place,” he muttered.
“I don’t know that it’s selfish to follow your dream and want something of your own. Things could still turn around,” Bobby said, ever the optimist.
“Unlikely. People don’t usually bounce back from stage 4 kidney disease.”
“That’s bleak, dude.”
“That’s life.” The words were flippant, but the message weighed heavily on his heart. He knew he needed to go home soon. This wasn’t the life he was destined for.
“Anyway, more importantly, you’re the one who’s killing it,” Noah said. “You have a beautiful, sweet daughter who is way smarter than you. And you own your own home.”
Bobby slid his sunglasses down. “You could move back to Aster Hollow and buy your own too. Maybe a couple places. I know you’re sitting on all that furniture money.”
“That’s not a thing,” Noah said, but it wasn’t entirely true. He’d always been a saver, and he’d been really fortunate over the last five years.
“Now you just need a wife to join you in your furniture empire.”
“Oh, sure. And you think I’m gonna find her in Aster Hollow?”
“Maybe,” Bobby said. “There’s new people moving in all the time.”
“No there isn’t.”
In Ocean City, on the other hand, there were new faces all the time. But they were temporary, transient. Just soaking up some rays for a week before heading back to Philly.
If he was being honest, a serious relationship had been on his mind. He hadn’t dated anyone in a few months, and none of his previous relationships had staying power. It would be amazing to have someone to share this life with. Maybe even a family someday. He wasn’t getting any younger.
Maybe it was time to move back home, give up this version of himself, and settle down. He needed to be there for his parents.
Bobby suddenly sat up. “Where’s Izzy?”
Panic immediately clawed its way into Noah’s throat. He should have been watching. Bobby needed a break from the single-dad life. He was supposed to support him.
He whirled around, scanning the sandy expanse of beach. Nothing. Adrenaline shot through his veins like a drug.
He stood. A sunhat was just visible in the ocean, easily twenty feet out.
“She’s in the water.”
They both sprinted, kicking up sand. Noah’s heart pounded in his ears.
So stupid. So dangerous. She was three years old. She wasn’t even wearing her life jacket. She was supposed to stay on the beach. They should have left when the lifeguards did.
Noah skidded to a stop, and Bobby blasted past him. Something was wrong. There was a long, smooth channel between the breaking waves.
“It’s a riptide,” Noah called frantically. “You have to swim—”
Bobby dove into the choppy gray water. Had he heard the warning?
Noah darted to the left, steering clear of the current. His heart was in his throat as he fought against the waves, frigid water slapping at his thighs and chest. High tide was coming in, and a hurricane was hovering on the horizon.
They never should have come here.
“Izzy, float on your back, honey,” he called. He could see her, tiny arms flailing above her head. She had to be tired. “We’re coming.”
Where the hell was Bobby?
Noah swam through the water with powerful strokes. The riptide caught him in its current and dragged him away from shore. But at least it was taking him closer to Izzy.
He used it to his advantage. Finally, he caught the sleeve of her floral rash guard.
“I’m here, Izzy. I’m here. Hold on to my neck.”
Izzy was crying, great sobbing gasps broken by the rough water splashing in her face. Her wet arms wrapped around his neck. She clung to his back, trembling.
“Bobby?” he called out. The riptide was still pulling them.
He turned and swam parallel to the shore, fighting his way out of the current.
“It’s going to be okay, Izzy. Just hold on.”
His lungs burned. Water splashed into his mouth, nearly choking him. Her sun hat poked him in the eye. But still he swam. The shore was getting closer. Finally.
The wind picked up, pelting them with spray from the white-capped waves.
Water crashed over them, pushing them toward the shore.
Finally, he could touch. He stood, then collapsed to his knees.
His legs weren’t working right. He planted a hand on the wet sand and struggled to his feet, clutching Izzy as if she might disappear.
She was safe. He whirled to look in the water.
Was that a hand flailing just above the surface?
“Izzy, stay here,” he said firmly. “I’ll be right back.”
He put her down on the sand and sprinted over to the lifeguard chair to get the flotation ring. He slung it over his back and dove into the surf.
“Bobby?” he called out.
Were those fingertips over the crest of that wave?
He swam in that direction, caught once again by the rip current. He fought against it, swiveling to make sure Izzy was still on the shore.
“Bobby! Answer me, damn it,” he yelled.
This couldn’t be happening.
Where was he?
Where was he?
Where was he?
He was a dad. He was only thirty. This couldn’t be happening.
“Daddy!” Izzy’s screams were barely audible over the wind ripping across the ocean surface.
He swam. And swam. And swam. The vast gray ocean stared back at him, buffeting him like he was nothing.
“Bobby,” he called again.
Exhaustion gripped him.
There was no sign of Bobby. His best friend was gone. Izzy’s dad was gone. And it was all Noah’s fault.