“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
Ty smiled. “All this? The house, the fancy food, that Mercedes in the driveway?” He looked up at the house—two stories, Tudor-style, historic marker with an old family crest on the bricks by the door. “I can’t give you all this. I’ll give you everything I can, but there’s no way it’ll be like this.”
“I didn’t choose all this.” She placed one finger under his chin and turned his face to hers. “But I did choose you.”
twenty-three
Jenna
Jenna squatted on a fallen tree and tried to capture the lacy layer of mint-green fungus covering the bark. Gregory stood a few feet away. “Take it like that and you’ll flatten out the texture.” He stepped closer and pointed. “See what I mean?”
He’d been by her side instructing her for most of the week since she’d made the decision to extend her stay at Halcyon, sometimes snapping his own shots, other times stopping to give her a quick lesson on lighting, balance, composition. It was as if he’d taken her decision to stay as permission to actually teach her the more technical aspects of photography. His tutorials reminded her of excursions with Max back in Nashville.
Max would chew his lips to keep from giving her unsolicited tips or pointing out where she messed up. Sometimes she’d give in and let him say his piece, but other times she’d ignore his agitation. He was always a gentleman, albeit a grumpy one, never giving advice unless asked. Gregory, on the other hand, didn’t care whether she wanted to hear his opinions. He just gave them anyway. That both thrilled and annoyed her.
“I’m trying it anyway,” she responded. “Can I experiment or does that break one of your rules?”
Exasperated—both from the stifling heat and from Gregory’s insistence on getting everything just right—she sat back on her heels and pushed her hair out of her face. As she did, the tree trunk she was perched atop shifted and sent her to the ground hard.
“Good save on the camera.” He chuckled and reached down. She ignored his offer of help and pushed herself up with one hand, holding the camera away from the sand and dirt.
She stood and wiped her hand on her shorts. Though she was satisfied with the shots from the morning, the midday heat was wearing on her. “This isn’t working. I think I need to stop and just try again tomorrow. Or at least later when it cools off.”
“Cools off? It’s Florida in the summer. It doesn’t cool off.” He looked at his watch. “I have an idea though.”
Twenty minutes later, Jenna sat in Gregory’s old Jeep Wrangler as he drove them away from Halcyon and toward the beach.
“I can’t believe you’ve been here three weeks and haven’t seen the Gulf yet.” The top of the Jeep was open and the wind carried his words into the humid afternoon air.
“I almost forgot we were so close. Halcyon makes it feel like there’s nowhere else to go.”
He nodded. “That’s the point. But it is good to get away sometimes.” He grinned. “And you need a break.”
She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. As they exited the preserve and crossed into cellular civilization, Jenna’s phone began dinging with texts. After a quick look at the screen, she smiled.
Mario: Where are you, girl? No one can run this line like you can. The new manager is an idiot and we NEED you back here. So does your boyfriend;)
Max: Heard through the grapevine you decided to extend your stay. Halcyon must be treating you well.
Delores: Hi dear. I don’t want to bother you, but I noticed you’re not back from your trip yet. Just making sure you’re okay.
Betsy: Meet Rainbow Shine. And the girls send kisses.
Betsy’s text included a photo of the girls staring through the fence of the henhouse at a huge hen with black-and-white polka-dotted feathers. Walsh’s hand was up in a wave and Addie gripped Walsh’s other hand.
“Everything okay?” Gregory looked over at the phone in her hands.
Jenna scrolled through the texts again, lingering on the photo of the girls. Her desire to touch them—to be with them—was so strong, she had to bite her lips to keep from asking Gregory to turn around and take her back so she could pack her things. “It’s fine.”
A few minutes later, he pulled off the road next to a long walkway leading to the beach. When their feet touched the sand, they went separate ways. Gregory set up his tripod near the edge of the water, and Jenna headed toward an abandoned lifeguard stand. Even from far off, she could see the splintered and broken boards on the side of the tower. With no houses or condos nearby, the beach was deserted, but she was still surprised no one had come by to repair the damage.
Bits of driftwood, shells, and damp seaweed littered the sand below the tower. It reminded her of an old I Spy book she and Betsy had read as kids. They’d both loved studying the pages and picking out a marble or lollipop or domino from the tangle of miniature objects the photographer had painstakingly set up and photographed.
She knelt in the shade below the tower, the cool sand scratching her bare knees, and pulled her camera to her eye to capture the array of marine life stranded dozens of feet away from its home in the calm, blue-green water. Pastel-colored coquina clams, still closed tight, were nestled against sharp splinters of wood and clear blobs of jellyfish. She nudged a piece of seaweed with the back of her hand and uncovered a chunk of green sea glass. She picked it up and ran her fingers across the smooth, tumbled edges. Veins of dark blue threaded through the green. She slid the glass into her bag and lifted her camera again. Time slipped away as she
