Reclaiming the Sand
Page 75
And now I was beginning to realize that was something I may not be able to rely on.
It was like waking up on Christmas morning to find out that Santa hadn’t been there and was actually just your parents who had been too drunk to remember to buy you any presents (my childhood didn’t lend itself to any positive metaphors). It was soul shattering.
I took several deep breaths and tried to calm myself down.
This wasn’t Flynn’s fault. He couldn’t help who he was. He was settled and comfortable. I couldn’t expect him to uproot and follow me wherever I ended up. He needed consistency and normalcy.
He needed roots.
And I was the last person in the world to give them to him.
How did you reconcile yourself with the knowledge that your life and the life of the man you loved were never going to follow the same path?
I patted my face dry with a paper towel. I needed to focus on this weekend and being with Flynn. I had to trust that everything would sort itself out and we would make it work.
Failure wasn’t an option when it came to Flynn and me.
I left the restroom and joined Flynn over by the tree line while Murphy sniffed the ground.
“Did you go to the bathroom? Do you feel better now?” Flynn asked and I grimaced.
“Flynn, you don’t ask people that stuff, come on,” I corrected.
“Come on where?” he asked and I shook my head.
“Never mind,” I muttered, watching Murphy as he bounded after a squirrel.
A few minutes later, Flynn consulted his watch and deemed it was time for us to get back on the road. He had calculated it should take us another three and a half hours and he planned for us to get to Sandbridge by dinnertime. He was inflexible about his schedule.
Before I could get in the car, still feeling despondent and low, Flynn reached out and took my hand. I startled at the contact. He tucked his fingers between mine and gave me a shy smile.
“I’m glad I’m going to the beach with you,” he said softly.
And he melted me. I was a giant, soggy mess. My worries, my insecurities, my endless amount of personal baggage drifted away and became completely inconsequential. I gave him a watery smile and squeezed his hand.
“Can I kiss you?” I asked him.
“Yes, I’d like that,” he agreed.
I moved closer and slowly wrapped my arms around his neck. Going up on my tiptoes, I pressed my mouth against his. He returned the pressure with eager force.
Nothing else in the world existed when Flynn kissed me. His lips communicated things that he could never verbalize. Even if he couldn’t give me the words, his mouth gave me everything else.
Flynn bit my bottom lip, much more gently than he had done in the past. He was learning. I smiled against his mouth. Flynn’s hands started to work their way up the back of my shirt and I pulled back.
“Flynn, remember, that sort of stuff we do when we’re alone. I’m all for a little PDA, but I don’t need the truckers over there getting an eyeful as you grope me,” I chuckled.
“I want to touch you. I like feeling your skin,” he said, sounding breathless.
“I know. Me too, baby. But let’s wait until later for that,” I urged as he pulled his hands out from my shirt and blatantly adjusted himself.
“We’d better get going if we want to get to the beach by dinner. I’ve always wanted to see the ocean at sunset,” I said, taking Murphy’s leash from Flynn.
“We have two hundred and twenty-three more miles to go,” Flynn said, turning on The Cure again once we were settled into the car.
“Why don’t we try listening to the radio?” I suggested.
“I like The Cure. They’re my favorite band. I want to listen to them,” Flynn argued and I didn’t press the issue. Though, I reminded myself that if I were ever on an extended road trip with Flynn again, earplugs would be a must.
We drove the rest of the way with very little talking. And I was okay with that.
Because sometimes the silence said more than words.
25
-Ellie-
I knew the moment we got close to the ocean. The landscape completely changed. I had lived my entire life surrounded my mountains and hills. It’s all I ever knew.
So the brush and windswept trees and flat, endless expanse was like an alien planet. Seagulls swooped and soared above the trees and the sun seemed brighter.
I rolled down my window so I could smell the salt in the air.
“Roll up the window!” Flynn said, sounding irritated.
“I just wanted to smell the sea air, Flynn. It’s not a big deal,” I murmured, rolling the window up.
“It’s too loud. I don’t like the noise,” he replied, relaxing again now that the sounds of traffic were drowned out by his music.
“Sorry,” I said, trying to hide how irked I was.
Flynn drove through populated urban areas as he headed toward Sandbridge Beach. I was fascinated by everything I saw.
Slowly the sights and sounds of the city gave way to sand dunes and quaint beach shops. We followed the road and I could see the ocean outside my window. I had only ever seen that perfect blue on television. Now I was seeing it with my own eyes!
“Look, Flynn!” I gasped, hardly able to believe what I was seeing.
Flynn didn’t look; he was entirely focused on his driving. He was consulting the paper he had written his directions on and starting to look anxious.
“This isn’t right. I should have been able to turn right back there. But there was no road.” I recognized the panic on his face and I knew he was minutes from a meltdown.
It was like waking up on Christmas morning to find out that Santa hadn’t been there and was actually just your parents who had been too drunk to remember to buy you any presents (my childhood didn’t lend itself to any positive metaphors). It was soul shattering.
I took several deep breaths and tried to calm myself down.
This wasn’t Flynn’s fault. He couldn’t help who he was. He was settled and comfortable. I couldn’t expect him to uproot and follow me wherever I ended up. He needed consistency and normalcy.
He needed roots.
And I was the last person in the world to give them to him.
How did you reconcile yourself with the knowledge that your life and the life of the man you loved were never going to follow the same path?
I patted my face dry with a paper towel. I needed to focus on this weekend and being with Flynn. I had to trust that everything would sort itself out and we would make it work.
Failure wasn’t an option when it came to Flynn and me.
I left the restroom and joined Flynn over by the tree line while Murphy sniffed the ground.
“Did you go to the bathroom? Do you feel better now?” Flynn asked and I grimaced.
“Flynn, you don’t ask people that stuff, come on,” I corrected.
“Come on where?” he asked and I shook my head.
“Never mind,” I muttered, watching Murphy as he bounded after a squirrel.
A few minutes later, Flynn consulted his watch and deemed it was time for us to get back on the road. He had calculated it should take us another three and a half hours and he planned for us to get to Sandbridge by dinnertime. He was inflexible about his schedule.
Before I could get in the car, still feeling despondent and low, Flynn reached out and took my hand. I startled at the contact. He tucked his fingers between mine and gave me a shy smile.
“I’m glad I’m going to the beach with you,” he said softly.
And he melted me. I was a giant, soggy mess. My worries, my insecurities, my endless amount of personal baggage drifted away and became completely inconsequential. I gave him a watery smile and squeezed his hand.
“Can I kiss you?” I asked him.
“Yes, I’d like that,” he agreed.
I moved closer and slowly wrapped my arms around his neck. Going up on my tiptoes, I pressed my mouth against his. He returned the pressure with eager force.
Nothing else in the world existed when Flynn kissed me. His lips communicated things that he could never verbalize. Even if he couldn’t give me the words, his mouth gave me everything else.
Flynn bit my bottom lip, much more gently than he had done in the past. He was learning. I smiled against his mouth. Flynn’s hands started to work their way up the back of my shirt and I pulled back.
“Flynn, remember, that sort of stuff we do when we’re alone. I’m all for a little PDA, but I don’t need the truckers over there getting an eyeful as you grope me,” I chuckled.
“I want to touch you. I like feeling your skin,” he said, sounding breathless.
“I know. Me too, baby. But let’s wait until later for that,” I urged as he pulled his hands out from my shirt and blatantly adjusted himself.
“We’d better get going if we want to get to the beach by dinner. I’ve always wanted to see the ocean at sunset,” I said, taking Murphy’s leash from Flynn.
“We have two hundred and twenty-three more miles to go,” Flynn said, turning on The Cure again once we were settled into the car.
“Why don’t we try listening to the radio?” I suggested.
“I like The Cure. They’re my favorite band. I want to listen to them,” Flynn argued and I didn’t press the issue. Though, I reminded myself that if I were ever on an extended road trip with Flynn again, earplugs would be a must.
We drove the rest of the way with very little talking. And I was okay with that.
Because sometimes the silence said more than words.
25
-Ellie-
I knew the moment we got close to the ocean. The landscape completely changed. I had lived my entire life surrounded my mountains and hills. It’s all I ever knew.
So the brush and windswept trees and flat, endless expanse was like an alien planet. Seagulls swooped and soared above the trees and the sun seemed brighter.
I rolled down my window so I could smell the salt in the air.
“Roll up the window!” Flynn said, sounding irritated.
“I just wanted to smell the sea air, Flynn. It’s not a big deal,” I murmured, rolling the window up.
“It’s too loud. I don’t like the noise,” he replied, relaxing again now that the sounds of traffic were drowned out by his music.
“Sorry,” I said, trying to hide how irked I was.
Flynn drove through populated urban areas as he headed toward Sandbridge Beach. I was fascinated by everything I saw.
Slowly the sights and sounds of the city gave way to sand dunes and quaint beach shops. We followed the road and I could see the ocean outside my window. I had only ever seen that perfect blue on television. Now I was seeing it with my own eyes!
“Look, Flynn!” I gasped, hardly able to believe what I was seeing.
Flynn didn’t look; he was entirely focused on his driving. He was consulting the paper he had written his directions on and starting to look anxious.
“This isn’t right. I should have been able to turn right back there. But there was no road.” I recognized the panic on his face and I knew he was minutes from a meltdown.
