Change of Tides, page 9
“Sure!” Christine says with a tone of excitement. “Would Monday work?”
“Monday is perfect.” They discuss times before settling on eleven o’clock. “In preparation for our meeting, if you forward me your portfolio, I’ll send you links to websites my company has designed.”
Hannah sits at her desk for a long time after ending the call. What does she have to offer Christine? No office space. No healthcare benefits, or retirement plan. But she has money in the bank. Taking out her calculator, she computes the projected costs of operating her business. If she efficient and judicious, she’ll make it at least one year.
Hannah breathes a little easier when Friday rolls around with no word from Ryan. She’s on her way to pick Gus up from Miss Daisy’s a few minutes before five o’clock, when the dreaded text comes in. I want to see my son.
Hannah slows her pace as she considers how to respond. Ryan’s life is complicated with law school and wedding plans. Maybe he’ll go away once he sees what’s involved in taking care of a three year old. Then again, what does Ryan know about taking care of a three year old. And why make this easy for him? Ryan will have to see Gus on her terms. She thumbs off a text. I’ll allow a supervised visitation. Tomorrow morning at ten. We’ll take Gus to the beach.
Birdie feels guilty for being so happy when Hannah is so stressed out, but she can’t help herself. Is she in love? She’s not sure. But she’s certainly smitten with Stan.
She’s been to dinner at Stan’s every night since Sunday. Their evenings have fallen into a routine. They cook dinner together in his kitchen with country music playing softly in the background. They walk around in bare feet. She sneaks glances at Stan’s fine fanny in bluejeans and he takes breaks from the stove to plant a trail of kisses on her neck. After dinner, they make out on the sofa for hours. They haven’t moved beyond kissing, but they are both hot and bothered, and it’s only a matter of time. Any lingering hesitancy about having sex with someone new has long since passed.
Late Friday afternoon, they go for a ride in the ocean on the Island Daze. Stan mixes a batch of virgin margaritas, and Birdie brings along cold cut sandwiches. They cruise north for about twenty miles, and when they turn back south, the sky is black with an approaching storm.
Stan’s face falls. “Uh-oh. That’s not good.” He pulls out his phone and access his weather radar app. “It’s still a ways off. If we hurry, we might make it home before it hits. Hold on. I’m going to speed up.”
He lays his hands on the throttles and the boat picks up speed. Streaks of lightening flash off in the distance, raising the hairs on Birdie’s neck and arms. She doesn’t admit her fear to Stan. He appears concerned enough as it is without her nagging him. They’re passing through the mouth of the inlet when the they hit a wall of rain. The rain stings her face and she ducks her head.
“Go down to the cabin,” Stan yells.
She shakes her head. “I’m not leaving you up here alone. Did this boat not come with a windshield?”
He laughs. “I’m getting new flybridge enclosures. They took the old ones off today, believe it or not.”
Twenty minutes later, they arrive back at the dock. While Stan fights the boat against the wind, Birdie follows his instructions and goes down to the deck. Fumbling with the lines, she somehow manages to tie the boat to the dock.
Stan shimmies down the ladder to the cockpit. A crack of lightning is followed by a boom of thunder. “That was close. Let’s wait out the storm here,” Stan hollers, holding the cabin door open for her.
They stand just inside the cabin, dripping water onto the carpeted floor. Once they’ve caught their breaths, Stan takes her in. “You’re beautiful.”
Birdie looks down at her thin cotton sundress clinging to her body and back up at him. An understanding passes between them. The time has come.
He places his hands on her slim hips. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive,” she says, her voice deep with lust.
He yanks the upholstered cushion off the sofa, tossing it to the other side of the small cabin, and a tugs a hideaway bed out from within. There are no sheets on the bed, only a mattress pad.
Stan turns to her, closing the distance between them. He slips her dress over her head, and she stands in front of him, naked except for her bra and panties. When she shivers, he strips off his soaked shirt and presses his warm body against hers. He kisses her forehead. “I have protection. Do you think we need it?”
Biting down on her lip, she shakes her head. “My husband is the only one I’ve been with in nearly thirty years.”
“I haven’t been with anyone either. Except Sheila. And I had a vasectomy.”
She laughs. “I’m too old to worry about getting pregnant.”
Stan covers her mouth with his and walks her backward to the bed, lowering her gently to the mattress. He steps out of his shorts and boxer shorts and stretches out beside her.
While the storm rages outside, they explore each other’s bodies until they are bursting with desire. When he finally enters her, she screams out as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over her.
“Wow!” Stan exclaims as he rolls off of her onto his back. “That was incredible.”
Birdie curls up beside him, draping a leg over his thigh. “I’ve been missing out all these years. I never knew sex could be that good. Was it this good for you with Sheila?” Her face warms. “I’m sorry. What an awkward thing for me to say. I’m just amazed.”
Stan chuckles. “I never kiss and tell. But no, to answer your question, I don’t remember sex ever being that good before.”
“Because you’ve been deprived for so long,” Birdie says.
“Maybe. More likely, it’s because of you.” He repositions so he can see her face. “I have feelings for you, Birdie. Strong feelings. This isn’t a casual fling for me. I enjoy your company. I may be getting ahead of myself, but I’m a middle aged man, and I don’t take my time on this earth for granted. I want to build a future with you.”
“I want that too, Stan,” Birdie says in a soft voice.
He kisses the tip of her nose. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
Thunder rumbles outside. “And the storm rages on,” she says.
“Looks like we’re gonna be here a while. Might as well get comfortable.” He leaves the bed and disappears down below, returning a minute later with a blanket tucked under one arm and the other laden with glass candles. He covers Birdie with the blanket and lights the candles, lining them up on the window ledge behind the sofa.
When he joins her under the covers, Birdie asks, “How long do you think the storm will last? I can’t stay here all night.”
“Why not? It’s so cozy with the thunder and rain and waves lapping against the hull.”
Birdie imagines waking in his arms after a night of passion. And the sounds of the storm are relaxing. “I should at least text Hannah, to let her know where I am.” Birdie retrieves her bag from the chair beside the door where she left it hours ago when she boarded the boat. “Ugh. My phone is dead. Do you have a charger?”
Stan sits up in bed. “No. Sorry. Not on the boat. Use my phone. It’s in my pocket.” He points at his shorts on the floor.
Birdie can’t get his iPhone to power on either. “Yours is dead as well,” she says, tossing the phone at him.
“No way. I had a full charge when we left the house earlier.” He fiddles with the phone a minute. “The rain must have ruined it.”
With a tsk-tsk, she says, “I guess you’ll have to buy a new one.” She’s been teasing him about his outdated phone. “The newer models are waterproof, you know?”
A loud clap of thunder sends Birdie back to bed. “I hope Hannah isn’t worried about me.”
“Why would she worry?”
“Because of the storm.”
“But she knows you’re with me, doesn’t she?”
Does she? Birdie thoughts drift backward in time. “I haven’t seen Hannah all afternoon. Hopefully, she assumes I’m with you.”
Stan pulls her closer to him. “You’re a grown woman, Birdie. You have to cut the apron strings at some point. I had to give my daughter a push once. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but it ended up being the best thing that ever happened to her.”
Birdie has talked to Stan a lot about Hannah and Gus over the past few days, but out of respect for her daughter’s privacy, she hasn’t shared anything too personal. But now that they’re having sex, a new level of intimacy exists between them. “My relationship with Hannah is complicated. We’ve been each other’s safety nets these past three years. Since Cary’s disappearance.”
After a brief hesitation, Stan says, “Of course it has. I’m sorry. I didn’t think of it that way. Have you heard anything from Cary in all these years?”
Birdie and Stan have only mentioned their spouses in passing. They haven’t yet discussed Cary’s disappearance or Sheila’s affair. She’s surprised Stan hasn’t already heard that Cary is back in town and living in her apartment. Then again, Stan isn’t one to listen to gossip.
She opens her mouth to tell him, but the words stuck in her throat. There is no sane explanation as to why Cary is living in Birdie’s apartment.
“Not a word.” The lie slips off her tongue, and she can’t take it back.
Eleven
Saturday morning
Hannah’s anxiety mounts as ten o’clock approaches on Saturday morning. Where is her mother? Ryan will be here in a few minutes, and she’s freaking out. She needs her mother to reassure her that she’s doing the right thing. Hannah clicks on her mother’s number again, but the call goes straight to voicemail. Is Birdie’s battery dead? Did something happen to her during the storm. This isn’t like her mother. She would never let Hannah worry like this. She has never before trusted Sadie to open the bakery on a Saturday during the summer.
When she hears the downstairs door open, she rushes over to the stairs. Air gushes out of her lungs at the sight of her mother’s blonde head. “Thank God! Where have you been, Mom? I’ve been trying to call you.”
Birdie climbs the stairs. When she reaches the top, she flashes her phone at Hannah. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. My battery died. It’s a long story. Stan and I got caught in the storm. We spent the night on his boat.”
Hannah steadies her gaze on her mom. “You could’ve called from Stan’s phone.”
“His phone got wet during the storm.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I might be worried?” Hannah says in an accusatory tone that brings back long-forgotten memories. The tables have turned. Hannah is now the parent and Birdie the delinquent teenager.
Gus looks over from the sofa where he’s watching Blue’s Clues. “Mommy, why are you yelling at Birdie?”
Hannah snaps at her child, “I’m upset, Gus. Watch your program.”
“No need to take your frustration out on your son.” Birdie drops her bag on the table and turns back to face Hannah. “I’ll remind you that I’m a grown woman. I don’t have to report my whereabouts to you.”
“You’re right, Mom. You don’t have to. But we’re a family. We respect each other. Or we used to. You should’ve called. I shouldn’t have to remind you that Dad disappeared during the night.”
“Oh, honey. I never thought . . .” Birdie embraces her. “I’m so sorry. You’re right. In my defense, I did try to call. But I should’ve tried harder.”
Hannah collapses against her mother’s body. “Ryan’s coming in a few minutes for his first supervised visit with Gus. I’m worked up about it, and I wanted to talk to you. Do you think I’m doing the right thing in letting him see Gus.”
“I don’t think you have much choice.” Her mother strokes her hair. “Play along with Ryan. See what he wants. Maybe he’ll be satisfied with monthly visitation.”
“Let’s hope.” Hannah rest her head on Birdie’s shoulder. If only she could stay in the safety of her mother’s arms forever. “Can we get rid of Dad? He’s driving me crazy. He’s always hovering over me. He wants to make things right between us, but it’s not going to happen over night.”
Birdie sighs. “I agree. This apartment isn’t big enough for the four of us. I’ll give him until the end of next week. If he hasn’t found a job yet, I’ll give him some money and send him on his way.”
“Thank you!” Hannah pushes away from her mom. “I’ve gotta go meet Ryan.” She scoops Gus up and starts down the stairs.
Birdie calls after her, “I’m plugging in my phone. Call me if you need me.”
Hannah hurries down the stairs and through the kitchen. When she emerges the from the cafe, she sees Ryan leaning against a Palmetto tree in the park.
She lifts her hand in a wave. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
He throws a thumb over his shoulder at Max’s hotel. “I actually got a room for the weekend. I figured it would be easier.”
Weekend? Hannah is hoping to limit the visitation to a couple of hours on the beach. Does Ryan except them to have dinner with him?
“Gus, this is . . .”
Ryan kneels down eye level to Gus. “Hey, buddy! I’m your daddy.”
Gus hides behind Hannah’s legs.
“Ryan, please. He’s only two years old. He doesn’t understand.”
Gus peeks out from behind her legs. “Mommy! I’m almost three.”
She musses his white hair. “Of course, you are.” She looks over at Ryan. “Are you ready to go? You can ride with us. My beach chairs and Gus’s sand toys are already in my Wrangler.”
Ryan steps in line beside her, and they go around the building to the parking lot behind the cafe. “I can’t believe you’re driving this same heap you had in college.”
“It’s not that old, Ryan. It was new when my dad gave it to me for high school graduation. It barely has any miles on it, because I hardly go anywhere.”
Ryan watches Hannah hoist Gus into his car seat. “That explains why I haven’t seen you in three years.” She doesn’t respond, and when she’s finished buckling Gus in, Ryan slams the door. “Oh right. I forgot. You’ve been hiding out down here on your island with my son.”
His son. Ha.
They ride in awkward silence over the causeway. She finds a spot at her favorite beach access, and they pile out of the car. When he starts off down the boardwalk, she yells after him. “Hey, Ryan! I could use a hand, please.”
Reluctantly, he joins her at the back of the Jeep. She opens the rear door to reveal folding chairs, a cooler, and two canvas totes—one housing Gus’s toys and the other packed with towels and an assortment of sunscreen.
“Are you kidding me? All that has to go down there?” His gaze shifts from the beach gear to the ocean.
“Children are a lot of work.”
“What’s in here?” he asks, slinging the cooler strap over his shoulder. “Lunch. I ordered some sandwiches from the Sandwich Shack. I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I got you an Italian sub.”
Ryan shrugs. “Anything’s fine.” He grabs one of the chairs, leaving the other chair and two totes for her to carry.
They’ve no sooner set their chairs up when Gus struggles out of his T-shirt and makes a beeline for the water. Hannah runs in after him, grabbing him seconds before a wave swallows him up. “Gus! How many times have I told you not to go in the ocean without me.” She carries her squirming son back to the chairs, deposits him in the sand with his dumptruck, and plops down in her chair.
“I’m exhausted from watching you,” Ryan says.
“Like I said, children are hard work.” Hannah removes a bottled water from the cooler and takes a long pull.
“Believe it or not, Hannah, I’ve thought about you a lot since college. We had something special.”
“We made something special,” Hannah says, her eyes her child.
“Do you ever think about me?”
Every time I look at our son. “I think about how much you hurt me when you cheated on me.”
He flashes her his smiles. “So you did care about me.”
She’s relieved to find his dimples no longer work on her. “More than you cared about me, otherwise you wouldn’t have cheated on me.” She looks away, staring down the beach at a young family—a man and woman and their two small children. She wants that for her child. She wants that for herself. But it has to be the right man. And, while she loved Ryan once, she’s not sure he’s it.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? I would’ve helped you.”
Hannah rolls her eyes. “Right. Helped me have an abortion.”
His raised eye brows are visible behind his Rayban sunglasses. “Are you saying you never considered having one?”
“For about a second. The pregnancy was an accident, but my child was not. I love Gus with all my heart.”
“I broke up with Danielle hoping you’d give me another chance.”
Hannah’s head snaps up. “Wait. Weren’t the two of you engaged?”
“Yeah. Things haven’t been right between us for a while. Seeing you on Monday was a sign. The kick in the butt I needed to end our relationship.” Ryan buries his feet in the sand. “Do you think you could give me another chance, Hannah? I want to do right by my son. To be honest, I’m not sure how I would’ve responded to your pregnancy when we were in college. I was young and reckless back then, as evidence by me cheating on you. But I’m a different person now. I’m ranked in the top ten in my law school class.”
Hannah remembers Ryan sweating about his grades when they dated. Maybe he has grown up and become more responsible. “Good for you, Ryan. That’s awesome.”
“I graduate next May, and I’ll take the South Carolina bar in September. I’m hoping to stay in the state. Palmetto Island is too small for me, not enough professional opportunities. But I’m willing to consider other cities like Greenville or Spartanburg or Charleston.”
“Wait a minute! You’re getting way ahead of yourself. You just broke up with the woman you planned to spend the rest of your life with.”
