I’ll never get tired of the way he looks at me, the love he gives, the many ways in which he builds me up and lets me thrive. And I’ll also never tire of loving him back. To get to wholly give myself to another person—it’s monumentally fulfilling.
“When we ate that watermelon when our surge started, it shut down you getting a power, Sam, right?”
Sam nods.
“I didn’t have one to lose, and then I think Amy activated mine.” He swoops his hands through the air and produces a series of giant bubbles. “Check me out being all powered up!”
For a moment, I’m concerned. Costa has always liked tripping too much, and having powers again could be dangerous.
But before I can say anything, he says, “I don’t want you to worry. If all I can ever do is blow bubbles and make my son laugh, I’m cool with that. Maintenance tripping only. I promise. For you guys, for myself, for Toby. I’m okay.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Sam stands and brushes sand from his shorts. “I’m going to shuck the oysters we got and start dinner. Half shells to start and then grilled swordfish with basil mayonnaise, green beans, and fresh bread.”
“Oysters!” Costa rubs his hands together and raises his eyebrows. “Oh. Aphrodisiac night!”
“None for you!” Sam yells with a laugh. “Stella, you want to come?”
“You bet.” I get up to leave, but Costa takes my hand.
He waits until Sam is a few yards away and pulls me down to whisper, “I might be a good boy now, and you might be a good girl, but I will always miss that knife.”
I’m reassured that Costa is still very much Costa. I turn my head and softly kiss him on the cheek. “I will, too.”
“Who knows? Maybe once a year, we can have a throwback? Reminisce a little, the three of us?”
I smile. “Maybe we do. Maybe we don’t.” I walk to Sam and turn back to Costa. “Or maybe we do.”
He laughs. “Atta girl!”
I catch up to Sam and take his hand. “I’m ready for my oysters.”
“Good.”
I follow him inside and hop up onto the counter to watch him shuck the oysters. Expertly, he wiggles the thick oyster knife between the two sides of the shell and jimmies it open. As he did the first night that he cooked for me in my apartment, he moves to stand between my legs.
He smiles at me as he lifts the oyster shell to my lips. “Drink.”
So, I drink the briny liquid and groan at the rich flavor.
Now, his smile gets more flirtatious. “Swallow…” He tilts the shell more, and the oyster slips into my mouth. “Don’t chew.”
These are just as good as he promised. “I can’t believe that I’m finally getting my raw oysters. A lot of our plans last summer got interrupted.”
“Yep. Seal Cove. We still haven’t been there.”
“Then, that’s what we’ll do when we get back into town.”
“Deal,” he says. “And painting your apartment. I never finished that.”
“I don’t want you to paint it. I want my patches of color and your words.”
“Then, I’ll just keep adding to them. I’ll cover all the walls.” Sam opens another shell and lets me drink from it. Then, he downs the oyster and kisses me.
“When we trip next week?” I start.
“Yeah?”
“Maybe we’ll go to Seal Cove in the early evening. We can hope to get lucky and see actual seals. Then, we’ll watch the sky begin to turn to night. When it’s dark enough, we can swim out to sea, and we can death-trip at sunset. I can do it myself, I think.”
