Chapter 32
JONAH
I lay there with her in my arms, her head against my chest, and I knew, I knew, that my life had changed irrevocably that night, and nothing would ever be the same again.
I wasn’t a virgin by any stretch of the imagination, neither was she.
But my first time with her felt like the first time I’d experienced lovemaking the way it was supposed to be.
We’d connected in a way that I didn’t know was possible.
Outside, the storm had eased, the thunderstorm blown back out to sea, leaving only gentle rain behind to lull us to sleep.
Exhausted, we did sleep. For a few hours anyway.
At some point in the night we woke to find that we’d started to make love again, this time from above so that I could stare into her eyes as I moved inside her.
Our second time was slower, more measured.
When I came, I saw my own sense of wonder reflected back at me in her eyes.
‘I’m scared,’ she murmured into my chest afterwards.
I held her tighter. ‘Of what?’
‘Of what will happen when we leave this tent. It’s become our little sanctuary.’
‘It’ll be OK.’
‘I just, I don’t want to be hurt again,’ she said in a small voice. ‘Now that I know how wonderful it can be, I’m scared that if you decide this isn’t what you want, that I’m not who you want, I’ll never know this feeling again.’
‘You definitely don’t have to worry about that. I knew the moment I saw you on the dock that you had come into my life for a reason. I don’t know how I knew, I just did. Even after you punched me in the face, I knew I had to get to know you.’
She smiled ruefully. ‘We’re bordering on corny, aren’t we.’
‘Maybe.’ I shrugged. ‘But I don’t care. Do you?’
‘No.’ She sounded surprised. ‘I really don’t.’
‘Good. This is no one’s business but ours, so it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.’
‘By everyone, do you mean your family?’
I pulled a face. ‘My family will be fine. Most of them, anyway.’
‘Not your mother.’
‘Probably not. But hey…’ I kissed her. ‘Once she gets to know you like I do, she’ll come around.’
She yawned. ‘I admire your optimism. I worry it’s unfounded, but I admire it.’
I chuckled. ‘One can live in hope.’
She snuggled in as close as humanly possible and sighed contentedly, then within minutes was sound asleep.
I listened to the steady sound of her breathing, feeling as if my heart might burst. Mae was everything I didn’t know I wanted in a woman.
Adventurous, funny, brave. Not to mention seriously beautiful and incredible in bed.
It was almost too perfect to be true, and that thought kept me awake for a while longer, but eventually I drifted off to sleep too.
When I woke up, the storm had cleared completely.
The walls of the tent were painted with an orange glow.
I gently extricated myself from Mae’s embrace, stretching, feeling momentary surprise at new aches in my body, then remembered why and smiled.
She murmured something in her sleep and rolled over.
Careful so as not to wake her, I leaned forward and unzipped the tent a fraction.
The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon.
The sky was clear, the ground washed clean, the sea awash with sea smoke.
I heard Mae stir. ‘Jonah?’
‘Hey, sleepyhead.’
She shivered, pulling the blanket up tight around her chin. ‘You let the cold in.’
‘Sorry. I just wanted to see the sunrise.’
She sat up. ‘It’s happening now? What time is it?’
I checked my watch. ‘Just after seven.’
‘I want to see.’ She sat up, reaching for her crumpled sweater and pulling it on.
I unzipped the flap the rest of the way, tying it back to one side so that we had an unobstructed view over the ocean. She stared at it in wonder, while I stared at her, feeling pride when her mouth formed a little O shape and she exhaled softly.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ she said. ‘The sea is all foggy and mystical.’
‘That fog dancing above the surface of the water is called sea smoke,’ I told her. ‘A phenomenon caused by cold air flowing over the warmer sea water. It disappears quickly, but it’s beautiful while it lasts.’
The sun rose as we watched, bathing the ocean in delicate shades of apricot and pink.
I scooted in next to her and wrapped my arm and blanket around her shoulders. ‘Does this make up for missing the sunset?’
‘Definitely.’
She made a small, kind of snuffling noise, like a hedgehog, and a hand darted out of the blanket to quickly wipe her cheek before darting back in. I felt my body freeze.
‘Are you crying?’
‘No.’
‘Mae.’
‘Maybe a little.’
I squeezed my eyes shut, suddenly filled with fear that she was regretting our night together. I wanted, needed to know. Needed to comfort her. But I was terrified of what she might say. That fear stopped me from speaking. I just couldn’t form the words.
‘Everything is beautiful,’ she said. ‘This whole night. The sunrise. A new day. You. It’s all just… perfect.’
And relief flooded through me.
‘I wasn’t unhappy,’ she continued. ‘Not really. I mean, the breakup with Nick was hard. Don’t get me wrong. Although it was less of a breakup and more of a dumping. In my mind, the term breaking up always implies some form of mutuality.’
‘Why are we talking about Nick?’ I asked, finally finding my words.
She crinkled her nose up at me. ‘Sorry. Talking about my ex is kind of a mood killer, isn’t it. I do have a point though, I promise. At least I think I do. My mind is kind of scrambled right now. Thoughts all over the place.’
I kissed her shoulder. ‘I’m listening.’
She took a deep breath in, her ribs expanding as she filled her lungs with the cold December air. ‘Like I said, I wasn’t unhappy, as such. I mourned the end of the relationship like any normal, self-respecting woman. Getting drunk and burning his photo with my best friend.’
‘Ohhhhkay.’
‘It’s less voodoo than it sounds. More symbolic.’
‘I’ll take your word for it.’
‘And he wasn’t the only reason I chose to move here.
I’d been… restless, in the city for a while.
I loved my job but I was starting to feel the emotional toll of it.
They tell you to compartmentalize the ones you lose, but I was never really any good at that.
I was OK though, because I knew I had done everything I could.
As long as I could look in the mirror and know that I threw everything I had at each resus, every tool in the toolbox, every weapon in my arsenal.
All the knowledge I had. As long as I knew that I had done my absolute best to try and save a life, I could live with it. ’
‘What changed?’
‘I got older, I guess. The hours, the shifts, were long. I started to notice the effects on my body. The bureaucracy, the system, it’s broken.
People can’t afford health care, so they wouldn’t seek medical attention until it was too late.
That was hard to handle. Knowing a few days could have made a difference, but they didn’t ask for help because they prioritized feeding their kids.
I realized that even though every day I made a difference to someone, it would never be enough.
It would stop. I gradually realized that, selfishly maybe, the person who really needed my help, the one I needed to make a difference for, was myself. ’
‘That’s not selfish. That’s self-preservation.’
‘Is there a difference?’
‘Huge. Mae, looking after yourself is self-care. And it isn’t a luxury, it’s a necessity. It’s about making yourself the main character in your story, instead of always putting others first.’
‘Makes sense when you put it like that. I still feel like I’m letting people down though.’
‘How? Look at how much you’ve helped my father already. And Ray.’
She gave me a sideways look. ‘I didn’t help Ray. There was nothing wrong with him.’
‘You mean apart from being a grumpy old bastard.’
‘Is that your official diagnosis, Dr. Sawyer?’
I nudged her with my shoulder. ‘Not a doctor, remember. Just observant. You might not think you did much for him, but I can promise you, you did. He would hate me for saying this, but underneath all the bravado he’s obviously scared.
It can’t be easy, being ninety-something years old and wondering if every ache or twinge is the beginning of the end.
When actually, if you think about it, everything that happens from the moment we’re born is the beginning of the end. ’
‘Wow. That’s a cheerful thought.’
‘I know. Sorry. I went off track. All I’m trying to say, is that you helped Ray just by being there. By listening to him and taking his concerns, however trivial, seriously. You’re still making a difference in people’s lives, Mae. You’re just putting your own happiness first for a change as well.’
‘My sister thinks I left the city because I was running away. That I’ve made a big mistake moving here, an impulsive, unrealistic mistake, just to escape reality.’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t think you came here looking to escape. I think you came here looking for a home. And you’ve found one here in Pine Harbor. For as long as you want it.’
She smiled at me, blinking back tears in her eyes. I kissed her, slower, less urgent than our need the night before.
A thought occurred to me and I broke apart. ‘How’s your ankle?’ I asked. ‘I’m so sorry, I should have asked earlier.’
‘It’s fine, actually.’ She rolled it a few times to demonstrate. ‘No pain at all. I think it was just a mild sprain like you said. But a night’s sleep seems to have worked its magic. That or the expert medical care you gave me.’
‘Right.’
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Jonah, I can tell there’s something’s on your mind.’
‘It’s nothing, honestly. We can do it another time.’
‘Do what another time? And don’t say nothing.’
I smiled. ‘There’s an ice cave nearby. It’s one of the places I’d include if I ever did run excursions.
Originally, I’d planned to show you yesterday.
After ice skating. Before Ray and the storm threw the schedule out.
I hadn’t planned on us spending the night here.
I hope you don’t think it was all a setup just to… you know.’
She smiled shyly. ‘Get me into bed? I know.’ She peeled off the blanket and reached for her clothes.
Our jackets had kept our top half of clothing dry underneath in the rain the night before, but her leggings and my trousers had been soaked.
I’d hung them over the pole near the front of the tent while we’d slept and thankfully, the little heater had done a great job of almost drying them completely out. ‘Let’s go and see this ice cave.’
‘We can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘There’s a bit of a long, convoluted walk to get down there, and you need to rest that ankle.’
‘My ankle is fine, honestly.’
‘I don’t want to risk it.’
‘Uh…’ She narrowed her eyes at me. ‘Which one of us is actually a qualified medical professional in this tent?’
‘You.’
‘Exactly.’
‘You couldn’t even walk on it last night.’
‘We don’t know that. You didn’t give me a chance to try.’
‘You’re upset that I carried you?’
‘God no. That was the most romantic moment of my life. I will be remembering that on my death bed.’
I laughed.
‘OK, let’s make a deal,’ she said. ‘I need to go to the little girls’ room again now anyway, and before you say anything, no, you’re not carrying or accompanying me there. It’s daylight, I won’t be wandering off any cliff edges, I promise.’
‘I sincerely hope not.’
‘If my ankle is still OK after that, how about we attempt the walk.’
I stared at her dubiously.
‘I promise that I will say if it’s too sore,’ she said, giving me the Girl Scout salute.