me.
I flipped on the TV just to have a little noise in the room. It was going to be a warm day—in the eighties. I laughed out loud. That was an average to cool day where we were from. I stepped back into the bathroom to brush my teeth and was just rinsing out the last bit when I heard a knock on the hotel room door.
I froze, looking down at my undressed body and panicked. I rushed into the room, yanked on a pair of shorts, and managed to pull a T-shirt over my head with the towel still holding up my thick hair. I looked through the peephole to find Xander standing at the door, hands in his pockets.
I jerked open the door. “You’re here. Did you text?”
“No, I thought I would surprise you.”
“Come in,” I said, feeling a little flustered. “You did surprise me.”
“Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Absolutely not,” I told him. “I’m glad to see you. How are you feeling?”
“Good. Fine. Do you have plans for today?”
“Nope, I am at your disposal. I’m here for you and you alone.”
“I was thinking we could go out on the town today,” he said.
“I’d like that. I hear it’s supposed to be a warm one today.”
He laughed. “It is much cooler up here.”
“I like it,” I told him. “I can see the appeal.”
He gave me a onceover. “We can go down to the beach, check out some of the tourist traps, and just have some fun.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“I’d like to take you to the best seafood restaurant in town. You will never want to eat clam chowder anywhere else.”
I smiled, happy to see him behaving so normally. That was a positive sign. “I’ll get dressed.”
“You are dressed,” he said with a smile.
He had a sense of humor once again. “True, but I think shoes would be good and I should probably remove the towel.”
“I suppose if you want to be fancy,” he said with a soft smile.
“Give me five minutes. Have a seat. Change the station if you want.”
I disappeared into the bathroom to quickly towel dry my hair before pulling it into a messy bun for the day. I put on a little makeup and called it good before digging in my suitcase for a pair of sandals.
Xander was sitting on the small balcony that had a view of the ocean, if one tried really hard to see it through the buildings and trees.
“Ready,” I declared.
He got up and came into the room. I could see he was still carrying that heavy weight of grief but was trying hard not to show it. My heart ached for him. It was clear he wanted to ignore the reason we were in Oregon. He was making it into a little vacation. I could go with that. I could pretend right alongside him if that was what he needed.
We left the hotel with him driving us down to the waterfront area. We walked around the many shops that essentially sold the same old T-shirts and other items advertising a person had visited the Oregon beach. He didn’t talk and I didn’t push him.
“This is the restaurant I was talking about,” he said.
“I’m excited to taste this food you’ve raved about,” I told him, trying to stay upbeat.
We took a table outside. Thankfully, the bulk of the lunch rush was over. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said after a few minutes of silence between us. “But why are you here?”
“I told you I’m here for you.”
“I know how busy you are. Why would you leave your work behind?”
“Because I wanted to be here for you. I have coworkers that can pick up the slack. I worked when I got back to my room yesterday. It’s fine.”
“I really do appreciate you being here.”
“You are very welcome. If the roles were reversed, I know I would have liked having you around for me.”
That seemed to confuse him. “I would,” he said. “I would be there for you.”
“Thank you. Hopefully, this situation is never repeated.”
“I’m sorry for the way my dad talked to you yesterday,” he said.
“Don’t apologize for your father,” I told him. “Your father is grieving.”
He made a choking noise. “That’s his normal attitude. He hates me and anyone I associate with.”
“He can’t possibly hate you,” I insisted.
“He does. Trust me. He does.”
“Grief is notorious for turning families against each other. It’s an evil little demon that worms into a person’s heart and soul. Grief rips your heart