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“No, not exactly,” I corrected. “I said the boy claimed to have known Jack even though, apparently, they’d never met,” I corrected. “He claimed he knew Jack was thinking about me.”
“Some beach kid rolls up on your house and tells you that story?” she remarked. “Most likely high as a kite, dontcha think?”
My eyes caught a solo figure walking on the beach in front of my house. “Jesus, Marla!” I exhaled. “I think the kid is walking on the beach in front of the house as we speak.”
“Is he spying on you?” she asked. “Are you sure he’s not some wingnut, Cole?”
I stood and leaned into the upper deck’s railing, focusing my eyes. The sky was in that weird gloaming time of day. You could see details, but not quite as sharply as you’d need to for the identification of someone fifty yards away. The shaggy blond mane gave Chad away in my mind, but then again, how many young men on the beach had the exact same hairstyle? Had to be hundreds.
“Maybe it’s not him,” I spoke softly.
“Why are you whispering?” Marla asked.
“I’m a bit creeped out,” I admitted. “He seemed to know stuff, Marla. I’m totally serious about this. He reminded me of Jack, and I cannot stop thinking about him.”
“Ooohhhh,” she began. “So there’s the reason. Wacky but cute beach boy has captured your mind, if not your heart, already.”
I continued watching the person on the beach. They sat down directly in front of my house, facing the surf, wearing a baggy sweatshirt and board shorts. Even from my vantage point, staring at them from behind, I could see they were stunning to look at. Of course, my mind was filling in the missing pieces of information regarding how I remembered Chad looked when I met him since I couldn’t quite make out the person in front of me on the sand.
“He is gorgeous, Marla. I’m not going to lie.”
“So your answer to that discovery was to fire him?” she asked. “Boy, you have lost touch with the dating scene.”
“He’s a kid, Marla. And even if he wasn’t, I’m not dating ever again,” I stated, still struggling to determine who was on my beach. “I had one opportunity, and it didn’t work out.”
“You’re not even forty, Cole. Get fucking serious.”
“Let me remind you what thirty-seven is in New York years,” I began. “It’s worse than dog years. I can’t even get laid anymore. In fact, I’m unseen there.”
Marla laughed, letting out a snort as she was prone to do when she was caught off guard by humor. “All the more reason to hang up and go tell the hunk on the beach that you forgive him.”
I sighed dreamily, not regretting what I was about to say. “He is really something to look at, Marla. I mean it. He appears so fresh and… and…” I lost my words as I stared at the stranger on the beach.
“Oh my God, Cole. Listen to you,” she implored. “So get off your ass and go down there and at least fuck him, for God’s sake.”
“I’m not sure I remember how,” I laughed. “Besides, he’s kind of odd,” I added. “Perhaps a good odd, if that’s possible, but who knows anymore? The younger generation gets weirder every year.”
“You make him sound twelve.”
“He could be,” I retorted. “That’s how old I feel.”
“Give him another chance, Cole,” she advised. “Unless, of course, he is twelve.”
“Did I tell you about the letter from Jack?” I asked her. “You know, the one about his advice to get out of the city.”
“Yes. That and how he would’ve enjoyed the mess you’ve found yourself in,” she reminded me. “You don’t need to convince me. I found Jack just as otherworldly as you did.”
Her words pressed a recognition button in my brain. “Oh my God, Marla. That’s the word. Jack and this young man. Otherworldly.”
“Hang up right now, Cole, and go down to the beach this instant.”
I glanced toward the person’s last location. They were gone. “Too late. He’s gone,” I stated, realizing I was saddened by the fact.
“There’s always tomorrow,” she reminded me.
And she was correct; there was tomorrow, and I hadn’t thought about tomorrow in hopeful terms in over two years.
“I couldn’t, could I?” I half-stated, half-asked. “You know, un-fire him.”
