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“Never been here before today,” he stated. “Just felt like you needed some company, young man.”
“That’s not possible,” I muttered.
“Everything is possible,” he argued. “You, of all people, should know that, Chad.”
His use of my name startled me and I moved a few inches away. “Seriously, sir. Where’d you come from?”
He lifted his arm again and pointed toward the water, his gnarled-up index finger not able to straighten, so in essence, he was pointing down at the sand. “From over there,” he motioned. “Squint your eyes just a bit, boy, and look closely at the horizon. Do you see it?” he whispered. I sensed him holding my hand and directing me toward the ocean. “That’s where we are. Just over there.”
I shook my head as if to dislodge something from an ear. “I’m losing my mind,” I murmured.
“Nope. You ain’t. You’re just listening to your mind,” he observed. “Maybe it’s Jack. Maybe it’s me. Or better yet, how ‘bout this, what if it’s you?”
I stared straight ahead at the ocean. I’m not sure what he was doing. Actually, I was afraid to look and see if he was still seated beside me. After a few minutes of no conversation and no sense that he was still with me, I stood and began walking away.
“What? No goodbyes?” he yelled after me.
I stopped in my tracks, pausing for a few seconds. I turned around, but the beach was empty. He was gone.
“Goodbye,” I whispered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Cole
“Holy fuck!” Marla cursed. “Your description did not do him justice,” she added, setting the binoculars beside her lounger. “So, this is a Wednesday at your beach?” she asked, fanning her face like what she’d seen was far too hot for her.
“Told you,” I stated. “And worse, he’s actually a nice guy.”
“You sure he’s twenty-two?” She asked, grabbing the binoculars and taking another look, at least her tenth in the past hour. I nodded. “He looks like a teenager. You know, like one of those skateboarders you see and dream about in Central Park. So lean and sexy.”
“College-educated, too,” I reminded her.
She held her hand up toward me. “No need to sell me on him. I hear you, baby cakes.”
I handed her the bottle of wine. “I’m too old, right?” I asked. “He’s out of my league?”
“That kid is out of everybody’s league, honey.”
“Thanks for that,” I gruffed, knowing she was right about Chad.
We watched as he and three other surf hunks paddled out to catch a wave. I broke the silence by standing up. “I have got to stop doing this,” I stated, gesturing to the binoculars and the ocean. “He doesn’t even know I’m alive.”
I headed for the expansive opened wall of glass and to the living area just off the deck to get out of the bright sun. The wall was folded into itself and open to the warm summer breeze, but the cool shade was just within.
“Fuck that! I’m going down there,” Marla announced.
I spun around as she stood and grabbed her wineglass, heading for the stairs leading to the trail and the beach. “No!” I hollered, rushing to her side and grabbing her arm. “You can’t do that,” I insisted.
“I can and I will,” she replied, turning back to the Atlantic. “That is a beach. The sand is public property. This bikini was two hundred bucks. I look amazing, and I’m going down there to meet those fellas.”
“Jesus, Marla!” I said, flushing every shade of red possible. “I’m not ready.”
“You’ll never be ready, sweetie, and I haven’t the time to be dilly-dallying and waiting for you to shit or get off the pot,” she said. She motioned to my empty wineglass. “Fill that fucker up and grab another bottle. We are going to the beach, Loverboy.”
“Fuck,” I mumbled under my breath as we walked the trail to the beach.
“I heard that,” my impulsive friend said. “We’re going, so quit your bitchin’, mister.”
I tugged on her arm, forcing her to stop and turn around. “How do I look?” I spun around, thankfully hidden from view by the tall grass in the dunes. “The body? Fat or not fat?”
