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“Laziest dog on the planet.” I laughed to myself. “I’m glad you like the beach, because we may never leave.”
I hated the ache that coated the truth in my words. I hadn’t been home since the funeral, and I just couldn’t see myself going back any time soon. Kim was an amazing friend and had offered to watch over my house for as long as I needed. Neither of us thought it would be for this long, but I didn’t have the strength to be there alone.
Who would?
“We’ll go back one day,” I told Midnight as I stroked her back.
I couldn’t avoid my past forever.
My tragedy.
But wasn’t that why I was here? To face all of my past with Bridger.
I had no intention of getting a dog. I had cherished my independence, and dogs just seemed like a lot of work. Plus, traveling would be more difficult. Would we take it with us, or would I ask my neighbor if she could watch it? But the second I saw that furry little face, black and wavy with a white patch just on its chin, and those sweet black beady little eyes, I knew I couldn’t live without it. Someone had surrendered the mom, not knowing she had been pregnant. The mom had been a small white poodle, so imagine everyone’s surprise when out popped five black puppies. Midnight was the runt and the last to be adopted. By me. I shook my head as I walked out of the humane society, officially a first-time dog owner. I told Bridger over the phone and he was less than thrilled. All the doubts I had he shared as well.
“Wait until you meet her. It’ll be love at first sight.”
Bridger had always been a sweet and gentle man with a soft spot for animals, so I had been right about Midnight. He instantly fell in love, and so did she. I tried not to be jealous when Midnight chose him over me time and time again.
“Midnight? Pretty cliché, don’t you think?” He raised a brow.
“Would you rather name her Snowball and really throw everyone for a loop?”
When he laughed, his smile reached his eyes, revealing an irresistible dimple on his right cheek.
“Midnight it is,” he finally agreed.
He had doted on her, and we were both pleasantly surprised by how smart Midnight was. The humane society said the pups were part Yorkie and poodle, but all I saw were poodle attributes, and that would explain how intelligent she was. The first time we sat down to train her, she impressed us with sit and fetch. She even walked off leash, never straying far from our sides.
When it was just Midnight and me after Bridger died, she was confused at first. She would look for him every morning and wouldn’t give up until lunch and then she would start all over again at bedtime. She would eventually curl onto his pillow and fall asleep.
I had thought it would get better, easier. That when I rolled over and looked at his side of the bed, the sharp pain that filled my chest would fade and eventually subside. Morph into happy memories of him. But that day didn’t come fast enough, and that’s when I knew I had to leave our life behind.
Levi
I picked Beach Break Campground for our first stop on our road trip because a friend once mentioned it being a good surf spot. Drew had never heard of it, so he was excited to check it out. It was a small campground on a frontage road with a small parking lot for day use. He parked his Airstream in a tight spot between two trailers. All of the spots seemed to be small, but once I stepped out and sucked in a deep breath of ocean air, I understood the appeal of this location. It was quiet and remote, off the beaten path and well loved by those lucky enough to have discovered it.
I had been stopping by the little café on the cliff after my runs ever since we arrived and became quickly enamored by a woman who sat in the far corner every day. She seemed oddly familiar. I was instantly drawn to her and couldn’t help but watch her. She was always alone and dazed out the window of her booth to the ocean, seemingly oblivious to the distractions around her.
Beverly, a sweet, older woman that reminded me a lot of my grandmother, owned the Beach Break Café. She informed me the mysterious woman had been coming every morning for the past six or so months.
“Really?” I asked in mild curiosity.
“Yep. She doesn’t say much. Whatever that woman has been going through is the kind that’s so deep there’s not enough air in your lungs to make it to the surface. The kind that not even a kind face like yours can fix.” She winked.
“What?” I held up my hands innocently.
“Mm-hm.” She laughed as she walked away.
I didn’t heed her advice, though. I had tried to talk to the familiar woman when she was leaving the café today, and it had been an epic fail. Not only did she not entertain my introduction, but it seemed like she was looking straight through me. Like I wasn’t really there. Her haunted amber eyes barely glanced my way and yet they drew me in and encircled me with her pain. Beverly was right. That woman appeared to be walking a fine line between life and death, and it only enhanced my unexplainable fascination with her.
When Drew asked me to travel the country with him in his Airstream after he lost everything in one of the infamous California wildfires, I accepted immediately. It wasn’t that my life hadn’t treated me well. I had accomplished my childhood dream of being invited on surf tours, I fell in love—and out—my bank account was full enough, and I was in perfect health. But as my thirtieth birthday approached, I found myself reevaluating my life. I was luckier than most. I had traveled the world, immersed myself in different cultures, and lived a pretty carefree life, but something was missing. Lacking. Some of the people I had traveled with became marine biologists, environmentalists, volunteers, and then there were some that never grew up and I definitely didn’t want to follow in their footsteps, and if the last year I was on tour had taught me anything, it was that I was going down the wrong path.
I chose surfing over college after high school and going back to school at my age now definitely didn’t sound all that appealing, but I was determined to find something fulfilling to do with my life. I was hoping I would find it on this road trip with Drew. He joked that I was having an early mid-life crisis, but if a life crisis meant analyzing myself and my impact on the world and those around me, then maybe I was, and maybe it wasn’t a bad thing.
I needed more from this life. I needed purpose. I needed my life to really mean something. Maybe that’s why when that mysterious woman rushed away like her whole world had been shattered, it hurt to my very core. I wanted to know her. I wanted to hear her story.
I wanted to be there for her.
