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“She does love you.”
“What’s not to love?” I ask shimmying in my sweat outfit.
“Nothing,” he says and my stomach flip flops. “There’s not one thing I don’t love about you.”
“Whew,” I say throwing my hand to my forehead in a swoon. “You are too much, Mr. Hart, I do declare.”
“Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic and I’m okay with that.” He stares at me with a wry smile and I believe him. He is a complete anomaly when compared to other teenage boys, but that’s why I love him too.
“That’s what makes you so lovable.” I beam up at him because I know we are being so cheesy but I don’t care. “You make me happy,” I say resting my head in my hands thinking about how lucky I am.
“Gosh, we are a disgusting pair,” he says pulling me close. Both of the guys who were surfing have left the ocean and the beach so we have nothing to watch over.
“So, why London 1965?” I ask.
“Well, the music, obviously,” he says, humming Ticket to Ride by the Beatles. Owen loves to listen to his aunt’s record collection and she is a huge Beatles fan. “I’d love to see the art, the fashion, and just watch as things changed.”
“It’s a hard question,” I say because it really is tricky. “Even though it’s what I’d choose, it still was a tumultuous time. There was segregation, violence, injustice, and I couldn’t even apply for a credit card without my husband’s permission. If we could eliminate the tricky ethical questions, then I’d go back even further to late 1800s England but only if I was part of the gentry.”
“I give us permission to answer the question using those set of rules. That said, I’d probably still go to the same time and place.”
“What time is it?” I ask, ready to be done for the day.
“It’s only 3:30,” he says looking at his watch. “At least I have you to keep me company. I’m sure Dirk is suffering with Jeff today.”
“Is he the guy that threw up in the recycling bin the last time we were at Dirk’s? Before that he explained to me in detail his theories about the show, Lost. I love that show and I was bored out of my skull listening to him.”
Owen nods and laughs. “That would be Jeff. He’s the north side floater. Thank goodness we have Lexi.” Floater guards work full time but are never on the same beach one day to the next. We all get a day off every six days so someone has to fill in, so each station has a floater. We have Lexi who fills in when either Owen or I have a day off. On rare occasions, like my birthday, we are able to request a day so we get two floaters. The beach is open all summer, that’s what Tom likes to say on repeat anyway.
Speaking of Tom, he rolls up in his ATV and I’m hoping he’s here to tell us to go home.
“Hey, lovebirds,” he says winking at me. Ugh, he’s such a cornball. “Wish I had good news but looks like we are staying on the beach until closing time today.”
“But, Tom, you said that the beach never closes,” I tease him because he’s a jackass.
“True, Mollie, but when we leave the coast guard takes over, so there’s always someone watching,” he says, pointing at his eyes then out to the water. “What are you two doing?”
“Just talking and asking ‘what if’ questions,” Owen says.
“Yeah? Lay one on me,” Tom says and I’m all for it since the boredom is real today.
“Well, our last one was, if you could time travel, when and where would you go?” Owen tells him.
He taps his nose with his index finger as he thinks, then smiles. “I would travel back to December 31, 2001, my freshman dorm room at Duke.”
“That, is very specific,” Owen says and I laugh because of course Tom would think of the question that way. “We were thinking about experiencing a time we hadn’t lived, but why would you go there?”
“That’s the night I told my friend, Kyle, that I wasn’t interested in a three-way Stephanie Parker and he should go for it. They just announced their engagement. I got a save-the-date, whatever the fuck that is.”
“Are we to assume that you were sweet on Stephanie and have regrets?”
“Dude, I’m gay,” he says and we both look surprised at this revelation. “I was in love with Kyle and he and I were hooking up. He’s bi-sexual, obviously, and somehow thought I was too. Unfortunately, I was young and was really bad at communicating my feelings.”
I bite my tongue because Tom is very gruff and speaks his mind even when you don’t want to hear it. It’s like he went completely the opposite and is now a sensitive over-sharer.
“Now, I know how to express myself so I could go back and tell him that I was only interested in a two way with him, but could make room for Stephanie if that’s what it took to keep him.”
I press my hand to my chest. “That is so romantic, Tom.”
