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He looked at me with those warm, trusting eyes and I smiled at him.
"Let's wait until the end of the afternoon and then you'll get another chance to tell me I don't talk too much," he said. "You look great," he added as if he had just looked at me.
"Thank you."
I turned and looked straight ahead, my heart thumping. What a beautiful day loomed before us: the sky was a soft blue with just a few small puffs of clouds dabbed against it. We soon saw the ocean glittering as if there were mirrors floating on the surface, the breakers fresh and exciting. Sailboats appeared, popping up like props on a perfect set. The world can be beautiful, I thought. I can be happy, can't I? I can put all the sadness behind me for a while. Please, I told my nervous conscience, take a day off.
Stuart and I got to know each other much more during the trip. He told me about his ambitions to pursue a career in medical research.
"I really started to think about it after my father's death," he explained. "Some day I'd like to be responsible for discovering a cure for the heart problem he had and preventing what happened to my family from happening to others. I know this might sound silly to you but sometimes I think of it as a way of getting revenge?'
"That doesn't sound silly at all," I told him. "Anger often pushes us to do more, to work harder?'
He nodded and gazed at me.
"You sound pretty smart. I bet you do really well in school, huh?"
"I have and haven't," I admitted. "This past year's been difficult."
"Sure, I understand," he said. "I nearly dropped out after Dad died, I kept thinking I should just go and get a job and be my mother's main support. We're fine as far as money goes, but I just felt responsible. Gosh, listen to me talking about these problems. You've got to be thinking I'm a deadly serious person who doesn't know how to relax. Sorry."
"It's all right," I said, laughing. "It's nice to have a sensible conversation, too."
"Right," he said. "Do you like wraps? I know this great little place on the beach that makes a bunch of different kinds ..."
"Wraps?"
"You don't know what they are?"
"No," I said. Why did every answer I gave seem like a terrible revelation? He could easily tell I've practically been incarcerated most of my life.
"Oh. Well, they're like tortillas wrapped around chicken, salads, meats, cheeses. They're fun. You'll see," he said.
"I'm sorry I don't know about them."
"No, that's great. It's more fun for me because I can enjoy your discovery, too," he explained.
It was nice the way he made me feel
comfortable about everything. Before we arrived at the beach, I really relaxed and even stopped gazing surreptitiously out the rear window and in the side mirrors to see if we were being followed.
Stuart parked as close to the beach cafe as possible.
"I don't want you to have to walk too far," he said, but I protested.
"Don't worry about that. I'm fine. It doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you to move slower."
"I'd rather move slowly," he said. "I hope this day goes on forever?'
Once again, I felt the heat rise to my face. I blushed so much after the nice things he said that I was sure he thought I was a walking thermometer. We paused to go into the shops along the way and some interesting art galleries. He decided he just had to buy me a necklace of hand-painted tiny seashells. After that we went to lunch and I did enjoy the wrap sandwich.
Afterward, we found a place on the beach where we could sit and watch people playing volleyball and we could look out at the sailboats. I never thought about the time. What a luxury that was. Most of my life, I worried about each passing minute whenever I went anywhere because if I didn't get home on or before Geraldine had expected, I would have to undergo a vigorous cross- examination. It just wasn't worth it. Now, without that hanging over my head, it was as if a great weight had been lifted. I could laugh and talk and enjoy myself. I felt free and that sense of freedom opened doors I had kept locked in my mind for as long as I could remember.
When Stuart talked about his youth, his favorite things, his fears and hopes, I could do the same. Sometimes, we started to talk at the same time. We'd stop and laugh, and he'd always insist I go first. We had a great deal to look at and enjoy, but we ended up looking at each other more and concentrating on ourselves far more than anything around us. We could have remained at my house for all it mattered, I thought, and then I thought that maybe it took the trip, the new surroundings, the sun and the water and the laughter around us to help us both become less inhibited.
Whenever there were periods of silence between us, I remembered my fear and gazed around, searching for signs of my father. I didn't see anything to suggest he was nearby, and toward the later part of the afternoon, Stuart went to get us something cold to drink. We had decided to make dinner at my house when we returned. He was calling his mother to let her know. He said he wanted to pre- pare a pasta meal and show off his culinary talents. We envisioned the others coming over as well and it sounded like a good way to keep our fun day rolling on and on into the evening.
I sat there feeling so warm and happy. In the sand I traced a heart and smiled to myself. My eyes shifted for- ward after a shadow fell over me and I saw a very familiar pair of feet. When I looked up, he was smiling down at me.
