I change into shorts and a halter top and then find him downstairs with his guitar case slung over one shoulder, a beach towel over the other, and a cooler in his hand. He walks me to the van. “Is Bruce driving us somewhere?”
He jingles the keys. “We’re borrowing it.” He drives in silence.
“Where are we going?”
“Someplace I heard about that I thought would be fun.”
Twenty minutes later, we arrive at our destination. I get out of the van. We’re at a park on the end of a point by the water. There are other people here, so I assume it’s a popular spot. Large rocks are piled up against the shoreline. “What’s special about this place?”
He checks his watch. “You’ll see in about fifteen minutes.”
I narrow my eyes. “Is there a blowhole that erupts when the tide comes in or something?”
“Not a blow hole.” He grabs the cooler. “Come on.” He finds a spot on the grass and spreads out a towel. Then he opens the cooler and offers me a bottle of beer.
“Anything else in there? Maybe a soda?”
He puts the bottle between his thighs, hands me a Diet Coke, then opens his beer and swallows half of it.
“How come you drink so much?”
He regards the half-empty bottle like he didn’t know he gulped that much down. “Habit, I guess. Why do you ask?”
I gaze at the water. “Corey drank a lot. People sometimes make bad choices when they drink.”
He looks sad for me. “I don’t,” he says. But we both know he’s lying.
“What about Ronni? Are you saying your ‘once or twice’ wasn’t a product of a drunken mishap?”
“Okay, you got me there.”
“What’s up with her? I mean, why her when there are plenty of other women out there willing and able?” I think about the girls at the festival today who were throwing themselves at him.
“Didn’t we already go over this?”
“You said she doesn’t ask questions.”
“But apparently you do.”
The way he says it makes me feel guilty. “Sorry. I know you didn’t bring me here for the third degree.”
He takes his guitar from the case. “I promised you a song.”
My eyes light up. I lie back on the towel and let him play. As I listen, I realize how little I know about him. The truth is I want to know so much more. What was his childhood like? Who hurt him? Why does he hate questions?
I follow his left hand as it glides between the frets. I stare at his fingers as he expertly strums the strings. I look at his eyes and see the way he’s looking at me. The song is incredible. I inspired him to write this?
He stops abruptly, and I instantly miss the music. He puts the guitar down and stands, offering me his hand. “Come on.”
He helps me up and I finally understand why he brought me here. A humongous cruise ship is coming down the channel. My jaw drops. I’ve seen them in pictures, on TV, but never in person. We stroll to the edge, along with many others.
The ship gets closer. Cruisers are on the top deck, lining the railings. Some are on lower floors, on private balconies. They wave. I’m startled when someone blows an air horn next to me, then I see why. The ship blows its horn, and everyone on the shore erupts into cheers.
Liam and I get caught up in the excitement and wave emphatically to those on the ship. “Look there,” he says, pointing to the front. “I think it’s the bridge.”
Men in white uniforms are surrounded by glass walls in a section overhanging the side of the ship. One of them waves at the crowd. “Do you think he’s the captain?”
“Probably not, but we can pretend.”
The ship passes us and goes out to sea. I turn to Liam. “That was incredible!”
He points down the channel, and I see two more ships coming our way. I smile. There are more cheers, waves, and air horns as the second ship comes by. The more boisterous the crowd, the louder and crazier the passengers on the ship become. When the third one passes, a guy on a balcony strips off his shirt and waves it over his head. Girls onshore whistle and clap.
“She’s flashing her tits!” a man yells.
A woman on the ship is jiggling her breasts for the onlookers. I playfully cover Liam’s eyes so he can’t enjoy the show.