Rising Tides (2 page)

"Why sailing?"

Tyler kept his gaze above, checking to make sure we stayed in the wind's path.  We had sped up again.  "It wasn't much of a choice.  I was more comfortable—more at home even—on the ocean than in an office."  He pulled the sail even tighter, further increasing our speed.  Our side of the boat lifted even higher. "Ready for some fun?"

"Define fun."  Half of me felt unnerved; the other wanted more.

"While the wind is good, we're going to come about."  Noticing my blank face, he said, "That means we're going to turn around."

My fingers cinched more tightly, and I looked from the top of the sail to the back of the cat, trying to imagine how we were going to accomplish that.

"I'll count to three," Tyler said.  "Then I'll cut the rudder hard to the left.  When the boom swings toward you, duck and scoot across.  Then we'll be heading the other direction."

I stared at the boom, wondering how much it weighed and whether I could duck quickly enough.

"Don't worry.  I've never lost a sailor," Tyler said, grinning at my arched eyebrows.  "It's easy."

“Did I mention I sucked at dodgeball when I was a kid?” was what I thought about saying, but what actually came out was, "Let's go."

Tyler's grin broadened.  "One...two...three!"  He jerked the rudder and released the sail.  The boat turned sharply, and that huge, black pole snapped toward me.  Alarmed, I ducked to the side and slid off the tramp.  My butt landed on a hull.  I fumbled for the edge, but my fingers slipped.

My legs hit the water first, pulling the rest of me downward.  I plunged into the frigid water, and it rushed into my open mouth, choking me, stealing my breath.  My heart felt as though it would burst.

Panicked, I kicked and thrashed, my body somehow not my own, a grim marionette whose strings were too long to see and only distantly in my grasp.  Then the life jacket yanked me to the surface.  I opened my eyes to blue sky, gasping and coughing until my chest burned.

"You okay?"  Tyler treaded water next to me.  Drops beaded in his dark hair before falling back into the ocean.  "Jesus, did the boom hit you?"  He touched my forehead, his fingers probing for a lump.

"I'm fine,” I sputtered, “just clumsy."  I shivered violently.  My teeth chattered between coughs, and I kept tasting the sand and brine of the ocean.

"Come on," he said, grabbing one of the ribbed straps on the jacket.  "Let's get you back on the boat before you freeze to death."

I kicked, trying to move along more quickly, but the jeans and sweater weighed my body down, and my muscles ached from the cold.  Tyler pulled me along with strong, sure strokes.  His fingers clung to me, unwilling to let go, even though he knew I was okay.

We reached one of the hulls, and he swung his free arm over, clutching it.  I looked up, at the height of it rising out of the water, and wondered how I was ever going to be able to make it back aboard.  Even if I’d had the strength, the combination of my weight, clothing, and the cold made moving difficult at best.

"Hold on to the boat and I'll boost you up."

I nodded, trying to keep my body from shivering as I grabbed for the hull.  My fingers had trouble latching on at first, but with his help I managed to hoist myself up enough to swing my legs over and sit back on the hull.  Then I climbed back onto the tramp where I drew up my knees and wrapped my arms around my legs.

Tyler pulled himself up and sat next to me, his fingers gentle on my back.  "You okay?"

I nodded and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the noisy clatter of my teeth.  "C-cold."

Tyler withdrew his hand and slid to the back of the tramp.  "We'd better get going.  Once we get back to the beach, I'll take you to the house for something to wear while your clothes dry."

He repositioned himself to sit in front of me, his body blocking most of the breeze.  “Sit close behind me,” he said.  “You’ll be warmer.” 

I scooted as close as I could and tried not to shiver so much.  With one hand, he cinched down the flapping sail, and with the other he grabbed the rudder and began steering us back to shore. 

Again I looked up at the sky and thought the sun was probably warm, but it couldn't penetrate my dripping clothes.  When my side of the boat rose again, I switched my grip to the rail at the side of the tramp.  Our speed picked up enough so that the wind once again hummed off the hulls like air blowing through a hollow tube.

I watched the land drift closer and closer, and despite the cold I felt the same draw toward the ocean as I had toward Tyler.  Perhaps it was the way the waves rolled ashore with the same rhythm as the beating of my heart.  Perhaps it was the knowledge that the water was eternal and that I needed to believe some part of me would be, too.

Then again, perhaps it was that it had brought me to another human being, which stirred dead ashes left from a long ago marriage, trying to erect the foundation of a new dream.  In another lifetime, maybe, the phoenix would have stood a chance, but not in this one.

Chapter Two

When the water grew shallow, Tyler jumped off the hull and dragged the boat ashore.  “Grab our stuff and head for the house, Kelly.  I’ll be there as quickly as I can get the sail down.”  I got off the boat, too, and walked the few yards to where our things lay.  Picking them up, my fingers fumbled and ached, not wanting to cooperate.

I carried them back to where Tyler stood untying the line and lowering the sail.  I watched the colored fabric slide from the sky and come to rest on the tramp, yet the rainbow image remained instilled in my memory like the salty air.

Satisfied the boat wouldn't drift, Tyler ambled toward the  house.  "Come on.  Let's get you dried off."

I started after him, and he slowed so we could walk side by side.  He took the things piled in my arms and carried them.  A soon as my hands were free, I wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to rekindle some warmth.  I brushed my fingers up and down, but they  pressed the cold, wet fabric more closely to my skin, making me shiver.

Tyler frowned.  “You look like you’re freezing.  I feel bad you fell in.”

I opened my mouth to answer, to say that my clumsiness had earned a wet body without any effort on his part, but before I could say anything, Larkin barked and raced toward us.  The dog sped past and  circled before jumping on me.

“Down, Larkin,” Tyler said, gently pushing the dog away.  He shook his head.  “He’s friendly, all right, but usually not this friendly.”

Another breeze wafted inland, and I hurried, at least until I saw Tyler’s house and took my first step up the wooden deck stairs.  My fingers tightened around the rail.

“Everything all right?” Tyler asked from directly behind me.

“Yeah,” I replied, hurrying up the stairs.  Once I’d reached the top, I stepped slowly toward the door and watched Tyler move around me to slid open the unlocked glass door.

I looked at him dubiously and I stepped inside.  “You feel that safe in this day and age?”

Tyler shrugged and followed me.  “I knew I wouldn’t be gone long.  Besides, nobody’s on the beach this time of year.”  He set the stuff on the table before flashing a rueful smile.  “Well, almost nobody.  And I’m sure you won’t be back, considering I almost drowned you.  I’ll get some sweats for you.”

He headed through the living room and disappeared down a hallway while I looked around the room; there were shells everywhere.  A big conch sitting on a shelf near the television captured my attention and I walked over, picked it up, and raised it to my ear, trying to hear the ocean.

“It might be easier to hear the waves if I open a window,” Tyler said, reappearing with a red pair of sweat bottoms and a grey shirt. 

“You really love the beach, don’t you?”  I thrust the shell into his hand and took the clothing. My fingers touched his palm only briefly yet somehow absorbed the warmth radiating from his skin.  His greyish-blue eyes met mine, and when he grinned, a small cluster of laugh-lines gathered at the corners of his eyes.  “Where’s the bathroom?”

Tyler pointed down the hall from where he’d just come.  “First door on the left.  The light’s on.  I’ve set out some towels for you.  If you want to take a shower, be my guest.”  

“Thanks.”  I carried my borrowed clothing and trudged through the living room down the hallway toward the lighted room.  I passed numerous pictures on the wall, the faces of strangers.  And Tyler.  In most of them, I saw a teenage girl standing beside him.  Her long, dark red hair cascaded in ribbons over her shoulders.  I saw the same cheekbones and nose in both of their faces.  His sister, probably. 

I felt my cheeks flush and remembered how often I had wished for a brother or sister, another wish unfulfilled. I stepped into the bathroom and found cream-colored, textured walls and a brown fabric shower curtain.  On the counter, I noticed the disarray of male things: antiperspirant, shaving cream, aftershaves, and a razor.  I smiled, realizing just how different Tyler was from Gary.  On the counter before the mirror at the hotel, Gary’s stuff threatened to salute as it stood in a military line an officer would have been proud to see.

I closed the door behind me and noticed Tyler’s huge white robe hanging from a hook.  I quickly locked the door, set the clothing on the counter by the sink, and started unbuttoning my shirt, ignoring the way my fingers still struggled.  When I had finally removed the wet shirt and heaped it on the floor, I unfastened the jeans.  The reflected flash of my hands peeling the denim from my skin directed my attention to the mirror after I had removed all but my undergarments.

I stared at the thin muscles of the body I had been at war with for most of my life, the body I had learned too late I needed.  I ran my fingers over my flat stomach as though the contours of my body would translate as a type of Braille that would somehow teach me about this disease, about the pain, and about how to fix it.

My face was red from the cold breeze, and my wet hair hung in clumps around thin cheekbones.  Only my green eyes remained untransformed.  Was that the reason I could see so clearly for the first time in my life?

I laughed silently and decided to accept the shower invitation.  If I were going to look like a water rodent, I might as well be a clean one.  Stripping away the rest of my clothes, I turned on the water.      

Once I’d finished my shower and walked into the living room, I found Tyler sitting at the dining room table, drinking a cup of coffee.  He had changed from the black wetsuit to a pair of khaki Dockers and a corduroy shirt.  The ends of his hair touched the collar, and the bright red of the shirt brought out the reddish-highlights in his hair.   When I walked into the room, he stood, went to a kitchen cabinet, and took down a mug, which he  filled for me.  “Where’s the dryer?” I asked, holding my wet clothing bundled in a towel.

“I’ll take those,” he said, reaching for them.

“Thanks.”  I gave them to him and sat at the table.  My fingers drummed nervously on the wood.  My keys lay right in front of my hands, and my shoes sat next to the door where I had come in.

Tyler returned.  “It’s nice to see you aren’t shivering.  How do you like your coffee?” he asked.

“How do you know I like coffee?” I asked, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

He shrugged.  “It’s hot and relaxing.  What’s not to like?”

“Black,” I responded.

Tyler set the cup in front of me.  “There you go.”

“Thanks.”  I took a sip and closed my eyes, leaning back in the chair.  I thought of the perfect ribbon of sky I had seen while on the boat—that and the rainbow-colored sail. 

“You did pretty well back there, especially for not ever having sailed before.”

I opened my eyes and found Tyler sitting in the other chair beside me.  I laughed caustically and shook my head.  “You must be joking.  I’m the clumsiest person I know.  I fell off the boat, and I couldn’t even get back on.”  I set the mug on the table.  “And you call that doing ‘pretty well?’”

Tyler smiled.  Small lines curled around his eyes.  Okay, so you were clumsy and fell in.  Even so, you didn’t panic or complain.  That’s pretty good in my book.”  He took a sip of the steaming coffee.  “And you’re not the only one who’s clumsy.  The first time I went sailing, I tipped a cat over and learned the hard way how to right it.  The sail got bogged down with water.”  He shook his head and laughed.  “That was a mess.”  He reached out and patted my hand.  “You were a good sport, Kelly.”

Why should I complain about being cold?  I’m still alive, after all.  I went sailing!
  I lifted the cup and cradled it in both hands.  “You don’t ask for much, do you?”

“Just the ocean and a boat.”

The grandfather clock in the living room began to chime.  Five o’clock. I was late.  Gary would be at the hotel waiting for me, and when I didn’t show, he’d likely end up checking the hospitals.  It was his way of playing attentive husband to a dying woman, hiding his infidelity and trying to absolve his guilt.  He kept expecting me to just fall apart, and I wouldn’t oblige—not yet, anyway.

“It’s getting late.  I’ve really got to run.”  I set the mug on the table.  “Do you mind if I borrow these clothes for a couple of days?  I’m supposed to be back at the hotel to meet my husband, and I’m already late.”  I stood.  “He’ll be worried because I was supposed to be there an hour ago.”

Tyler also stood.  “No, that’s fine.”  He pointed back toward the utility room.  “I’ll just let yours finish drying, and you can come by and pick them up.”

I scooped up my keys and headed for the door, stopping only long enough to slip on my sneakers.

“Take care of yourself, Kelly.”  He stood behind me. 

I nodded.  “Always.”  I started to walk out, but then turned back.  “Would you mind terribly if I tried sailing again?”  I managed a half-hearted laugh.  “I’d like to go. It would mean a lot to me.”  The wind blew my long hair directly into my face through the open door, and I brushed it back.

“Sure,” Tyler said, leaning against the doorway.  “Whenever you’re free, drop by.”

“I’ll see you again, then.”  In the dying light, I mentally traced the lines and shadows falling across his skin.  It seemed the whole world halted.  Nothing moved to break the silence; the wind had stilled completely.  Even when I turned away, the world remained motionless as I memorized the way he held the door open, the way the veins rose in his forearms and hands, the way his eyebrows scrunched slightly as he stared back at me.  I didn’t know then that it would be one of the last images I ever remembered, though not yet why it was important I hold onto it.

It was only when I arrived back at the hotel I realized the world had not stopped, only my perception of it.  My perception of Tyler.  I sat in the car and trembled.  I tried not to think of the ocean or his eyes, and yet I could still smell the salt and hear the gulls reeling overhead.  Somehow, I had brought the beach back with me.

* * *

I unlocked the door to the hotel room and walked inside to find Gary pacing the floor.  He wore a navy suit, probably the one he’d worn to the meeting and then to Debra’s room.  But I didn’t ask him.  I wasn’t supposed to know about her, even though I’d have to have been blind, deaf, and stupid to miss the obvious attachment my husband felt toward his secretary.

“Jesus, Kel,” he said, glancing at his gold watch.  “Where have you been?  I’ve been worried sick.”  He wrinkled his nose in distaste as he looked at the sweats I wore.  “Have you lost more weight?  I mean, your clothes aren’t exactly fitting right anymore.”

 I looked down at the sweats that hung on my body only because of the drawstring at the waist.  “They aren’t m-”

“They’re about to fall off,” Gary said, interrupting. He tugged at Tyler’s shirt as he circled, staring critically at my body.  “You look tired, Kel.”   He leaned over and kissed my forehead.  “You ought to take better care of yourself.”

“I’m not tired,” I finally responded.  Dark laughter bubbled inside me as I realized just how obtuse Gary had become.  He didn’t even realize I was wearing another man’s clothes or my wet hair.

He rubbed my neck before finally resting his hands on  my shoulder.  I braced my back and forced myself to stand still, even thought I wanted to be anywhere else.  “I was on the beach, actually.  And I was taking good care of myself.”

“The beach,” he repeated, stepping away.  He picked his canned soft drink from the nightstand beside the bed.  “Shouldn’t you have worn something warmer?  The air is still chilly this time of year.”

“Chilly,” I muttered. 
Funny, as cold as you are, I could probably catch pnemonia being in the same room with you.
  I gritted my teeth and stalked over to the mirror where I took out a fabric band from my bag and pulled my hair into a pony.