jack-o'-lantern.
I surfaced for a breath and broke into a freestyle stroke. The island, the mound of land with overgrown shrubs and a few rustic benches, looked deserted and shady. The perfect landing place to clear my head from the last few days. Watching Carly pack had been as satisfying as it was gut-wrenching. We'd sort of grown up together, spending our early twenties laughing, learning and fucking . . . a lot of fucking. It was probably the sex that had kept us trying to keep things together. And, in the background of her sealing up boxes and making arrangements with her friends to lease a room, Mom had called a hundred times to give me updates on what the doctors were advising. It had been a rough few days, and the news from the operating room only made it worse.
The brisk swim had gotten my heart rate up and my pulse roaring, but the lead weight of the last few days made me feel as if I was moving through the water dragging a block of cement behind me.
I reached the shore of the small island and climbed the rocks to the softer sand. The beating sun had made the dry sand so hot, even wet, my feet couldn't stay in one place. I hiked through the lush shrubbery, growing wild and undisturbed, in the center of the island and found a spot higher up where I could see the lake and the shoreline. I could see everyone partying on the beach and in the water but they couldn't see me behind my cocoon of greenery. I leaned back on my palms and dug my feet into the shade-cooled sand. A slight breeze floated across the island, fluttering the green landscape and briskly drying my wet skin.
"You've invaded my peace and quiet, but I'll forgive you because you look as if you need it more than me." A pair of long, tanned legs pulled up next to me. She sat down, gently, gracefully like someone who did ballet for a living. Her bikini looked snow white next to her bronze skin, perfectly sun kissed and smooth as silk. Her long fingers tucked her shoulder length, slightly wet hair, tawny or dark gold, depending on where the light was hitting it, behind her ears. Even her ears looked as if some artist had set out to the paint the perfect woman from head to toe and had paid special attention to every detail, even her ears. And all the perfection was nearly forgotten when one looked into her large brown eyes.
She bent her long legs and leaned back on her hands to be even with me. "Beware," she said with a hint of a smile, a hint that assured me the full blown one was nothing short of breathtaking. "I told myself I just needed a break from the noise and that I'd just swim out to the island for a short hike. I've been here thirty minutes. I think there's some mysterious force on the island keeping me captive here, and frankly, I don't mind." She stretched out her long legs. I had to drag my gaze away from them. "So . . . tell me—girlfriend problems?"
She had me tongue-tied like an idiot, but I managed to finally take a breath. "Not anymore," I said.
She laughed and it was a sound I wouldn't soon forget. Her brown eyes grazed over my expression, and she bit her bottom lip lightly. "No, I was wrong. It's grief. I've seen it enough to know." She reached up. "Took me a second to see it because it's all up here on the forehead." She reached up, and I found my breath catching in my throat again. Her fingertips lightly brushed aside the long hair plastered on my forehead from the swim. It was just a casual gesture, but I felt her touch deep in my bones. Was the flowery scent coming from her or the landscape? It had to be her. Even nature couldn't have such a sweet fragrance.
"You can see grief in people's foreheads?" I asked.
She squinted at me for further assessment. "I'm right, aren't I?" The music across the water switched from the hard core, bass pounding stuff to Creedence Clearwater Revival. Her face turned toward the party. It occurred to me I was cataloguing every detail about her, capturing the moment to be savored later, when things were shit again. Her profile was symmetrical with only the slightest bump in