the edges, and largely a stranger in my own home. Remembering how she’d been with my dad, I could tell how gracefully her parents had raised her. And as she sat beside me, I found myself wishing that I could be more like her.
“What are you thinking?”
Her voice, probing yet gentle, pulled me away from my thoughts.
“I was wondering why you’re here,” I confessed.
“Because I like the beach. I don’t get to do this very often. It’s not like there are any waves or shrimp boats where I’m from.”
When she saw my expression, she tapped my hand. “That was flippant,” she said, “I’m sorry. I’m here because I want to be here.”
I set aside the remains of my burger, wondering why I cared so much. It was a new feeling for me, one I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to. She patted my arm and turned toward the water again.
“It’s gorgeous out here. All we need is a sunset over the water, and it would be perfect.”
“We’d have to go to the other side of the country,” I said.
“Really? You’re trying to tell me the sun sets in the west?”
I noted the mischievous gleam in her eye.
“That’s what I hear, anyway.”
She’d eaten only half of her cheeseburger, and she slipped it into the bag, then added the remains of mine as well. After folding the bag over so the wind wouldn’t blow it away, she stretched out her legs and turned to me, looking at once flirtatious and innocent.
“You want to know what I was thinking?” she asked.
I waited, drinking in the sight of her.
“I was thinking that I wished you’d been with me the last couple of days. I mean, I enjoyed getting to know everyone better. We ate lunch together, and the dinner last night was a lot of fun, but it just felt like something was wrong, like I was missing something. It wasn’t until I saw you walking up the beach that I realized it was you.”
I swallowed. In another life, in another time, I would have kissed her then, but even though I wanted to, I didn’t. Instead, all I could do was stare at her. She met my gaze without a hint of self-consciousness.
“When you asked me why I was here, I made a joke because I thought the answer was obvious. Spending time with you just feels . . . right, somehow. Easy, like the way it’s supposed to be. Like it is with my parents. They’re just comfortable together, and I remember growing up thinking that one day I wanted to have that, too.” She paused. “I’d like you to meet them one day.”
My throat had gone dry. “I’d like that, too.”
She slipped her hand easily into mine, her fingers intertwining with my own.
We sat in peaceful silence. At the water’s edge, terns were bobbing their beaks into the sand in search of food; a cluster of seagulls broke as a wave rolled in. The sky had grown darker and the clouds more ominous. Up the beach, I could see scattered couples walking under a spreading indigo sky.
As we sat together, the air filled with the crashing of the surf. I marveled at how new everything felt. New and yet comfortable, as if we’d known each other forever. Yet we weren’t even a real couple. Nor, a voice in my head reminded me, is it likely you ever will be. In a little more than a week, I’d be heading back to Germany and this would all be over. I’d spent enough time with my buddies to know that it takes more than a few special days to survive a relationship that spanned the Atlantic Ocean. I’d heard guys in my unit swear they were in love after coming off leave—and maybe they were—but it never lasted.
Spending time with Savannah made me wonder whether it was possible to defy the norm. I wanted more of her, and no matter what happened between us, I already knew I’d never forget anything about her. As crazy as it sounded, she was becoming part of me, and I was already dreading the fact that we wouldn’t be able to spend the day together tomorrow. Or the day after, or the day after that. Maybe, I told myself, we could beat the odds.
“Out there!” I heard her cry. She pointed toward the ocean. “In the breakers.”
I scanned an ocean the color of iron but didn’t see anything. Beside me, Savannah suddenly stood up and started