his fingers through mine. He wore an ice blue hooded sweater with some kind of Asian dragon pattern running from shoulder to shoulder.
I reached up to trace a dragon. “Where did you get this?”
He shrugged. “Off the Internet. I’ve become an expert Internet shopper.”
“Hmm. I like it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”
“Yep,” I sighed, “Hmm . . . we’d better keep you away from the ice cream.”
He looked offended. “Why would you keep me away from the ice cream?”
“Because you’re hot enough to melt it, and then Kishan would cry. The ice cream girls are checking you out already.”
“Well, perhaps you failed to notice the young gentleman behind the counter. He was very disgruntled when I walked over here.”
“You’re lying.”
“No . . . I’m not.”
I peeked at the guy behind the register. He was watching us. “He probably just wants to make sure we aren’t tasting too many free samples.”
“I don’t think so, Kelsey.”
We wandered to the ice cream counter where I inhaled the scent of freshly made waffle-cones. Kishan ordered a triple cone with blueberry cheesecake, chocolate orange, and root-beer-float flavors.
“That’s an interesting combo, Kishan.”
He grinned at me over his giant cone and took a huge bite of root-beer-float ice cream. Ren was up next, but he seemed to be having trouble.
“I’m torn.”
“Between what?”
“Chocolate peanut butter and peaches and cream.”
“You love chocolate peanut butter. It should be an easy choice.”
“Ah, true,” he leaned down to whisper, “but I love peaches and cream more.”
He kissed me on the cheek and ordered a double scoop of peaches and cream.
I ordered a double with chocolate peanut butter on the bottom and my favorite, Tillamook mudslide, on top and promised him he could eat the second half of my cone. I added a large square of chocolate peanut butter fudge to the order then paid the bill.
From there, it was just a short drive to the beach. Because it was overcast and still fairly cool, the beach was deserted. It was just the three of us, the seagulls, and the roar of the cold ocean.
The nippy rock-blue water crested, spilled over the pumice-gray sand, and sprayed the large black rocks. This was the ocean of the Northwest: beautiful, cool, and dark. Very different from the beaches of southern California or Florida. Far out on the water, a fishing boat drifted slowly by.
Ren spread out a large blanket and started building a fire. He soon had a crackling blaze going and joined me on the blanket. We ate, laughed, and talked about various styles of martial arts: karate, wushu, ninjutsu, kendo, aikido, Shaolin, Muay Thai, Tae Kwon Do, and Kempo.
Ren and Kishan argued about which form to use in which situation. Eventually they stopped, and Ren invited me to walk along the beach with him. We kicked off our shoes, held hands, and let the cold water lap over our bare feet as we walked all the way to the black rocks, about a half a mile away.
“Do you like the ocean?” he asked.
“I like to look at it or cruise on it, but swimming in it scares me. Wading is fine, but that’s about it.”
“Why? I thought you loved stories about the ocean.”
“I do. There are some great books about the sea—Robinson Crusoe, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, Treasure Island, and Moby Dick.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
“One word. Sharks.”
“Sharks?”
“Yes. Apparently, I need to introduce you to the movie Jaws.” I sighed. “I know, statistically speaking, that most beach swimmers aren’t eaten by sharks, but just the fact that I can’t see anything in the water freaks me out.”
“But swimming pools are fine?”
“Yes. I love swimming, but I’ve seen too many televised Shark Week specials to feel comfortable in the ocean.”
“Maybe you’d feel differently about diving.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it.”
“I’d like to try it sometime.”
“Be my guest.”
“You know, statistically speaking . . . you are much more likely to get eaten by a tiger.”
He tried to grab my arms, but I darted out of his range and laughed. “Not if the tiger can’t catch me.”
I took off running as fast as I could, and he laughed and chased me back across the sand trying to grab my heels.
He let me elude him for a while, even though I knew he could have overtaken me at any time. Eventually, he scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder.
I laughed. “Come on, Tiger, the water’s getting higher, and we’ve left Kishan to his own devices for too long.”