I probably shouldn’t have named him if I wanted to be normal about this, but I guess Hazel and Winnie have rubbed off on me.
The waves recede, and there’s my sea turtle, still paddling his way forward. Another wave hits him and he gets knocked sideways, but he’s still moving, propelling those fins to gain some purchase and get into the water. Everything goes a bit blurry for a second and then clears as I blink and let the tears that built up fall down my cheeks.
He’s doing it. He’s really doing it. This tiny little creature charged toward the vast, churning waters of the ocean and just dove right in. What choice did he have? It was life or death for him, and even this part of the journey doesn’t guarantee life.
Is this what it would be like if I left my career to start a new one? A frantic fight in the waves and a treacherous swim to a safer place? Would I get too overwhelmed with the initial hit? Or, like these turtles, would I find that I was built for that kind of challenge and I’d be able to fight my way through?
It’s getting harder to find the turtle I released from my little bowl, and eventually, I can’t distinguish him from his brothers and sisters or the ocean debris. He’s in the ocean and his journey is really starting. His life is really starting now.
Maybe this is what it takes to start a new life—being overwhelmed for a time and struggling through the initial waves, being scared for a bit as you navigate a new world, andeventually settling in. Not everyone can do it, as not every sea turtle will make it.
But they alltry.
And I think I have to try too.
22
ABBY
Walter and I have lunch after the excursion, and then I spend the rest of my afternoon packing and getting ready for Miles’s surprise tonight. All he’s told me is to “wear something pretty” and that he’d pick me up at six o’clock. Surely it isn’t just dinner, but there can’t be that many options at a resort.
There’s a knock on my door not a minute before or after six, and when I open the door to see Miles in a pair of gray shorts that hit his leg mid-thigh and a white collared shirt with his chain peeking out under the collar, I really could swoon.
“You understood the assignment,” he says, admiring my sage-green linen pants and white cropped tank top. I curled my hair in loose waves and wore my cutest strappy brown sandals.
“It’s not a dress, but you’ve seen all those.”
“You could have answered the door in a potato sack and I would have said the same thing.”
He hooks an arm around my waist and draws me in to plant a kiss on my neck, just under my jawline and right behind my ear. It sends a shiver down my spine.
“Well, hello to you, too,” I say, my cheeks warming at his greeting.
“Hello, gorgeous.”
And then he kisses me on the mouth so thoroughly that I consider asking him to cancel whatever plans he has and taking him back into my room. He would say yes, but my curiosity gets the better of me.
“I’m dying to know what the surprise is,” I say as he takes my hand and leads me away from the rooms toward our evening activity.
“I’m dying to show you,” he says with the kind of grin that would make any woman a little weak in the knees.
The moment is punctuated by a flutter of nervous energy in my belly. However nice this evening is, we have to have a conversation about what comes next, and although I feel confident about what I want, I can’t read Miles’s mind. And I have no idea how emotionally open he’s going to be able to be with me.
Our walk takes us through the resort and toward a boardwalk, which is mostly just a long stretch of boards that extends into the water, where a sailboat sits at the end, tied to a post. A gentleman wearing a resort uniform waits by the boat.
I abruptly stop, a small gasp leaving my mouth.
“Is that for us?” I ask.
Miles’s smile gives him away before he can answer. “I know you were bummed you missed the sunset sail the other night because of your migraine, so I rebooked it. For just us.”
I think there might be literal hearts in my eyes. This is easily the most romantic thing anyone has ever done. It’s so thoughtful; it’s so sweet. Tears spring to my eyes, and I’m crying before I can stop myself. I cover my face with my hands.
Miles encloses me in his arms. “Hey hey hey, what’s this?” His voice is comforting and sweet, and it does nothing to staunch the flow of tears.
“It’s just so nice,” I say, voice shaky with emotion.
His body shakes with a laugh.
