“I appreciate your help with everything,” I said to Lily as we loaded up the car, “and I know Maya will, too. She’s really excited about having the garage done so she can work in there all year. She’s hoping to make more sculptures and eventually cut her shifts at the Cliff’s Head.”
“I’m happy to help. Was Maya always into art? Do you know?”
“Apparently, she was all set to go to the Maine College of Art in Portland, but when my father died, she derailed a little.” I didn’t want to betray Maya’s confidence about what she’d told me, how desperate she’d been, how happy and thankful when I’d given up studying economics, which had apparently been my lifelong dream, and came back here so she wasn’t alone. She’d cried when she’d told me how she felt guilty about holding me back, how she thought it could be the reason why I’d left Newdale after all. Me already in my thirties and her not far behind, both of us still living together in the family home. And then I’d gone off on one last night and told her she was suffocating me. Good job, Ash.
Back at the house we unloaded the supplies. “What do you fancy doing now?” I said, hoping Lily wouldn’t tell me she wanted to go back to the motel or had other plans.
“I’m happy to check out the beach if you’re still game. Only, fair warning, I didn’t exactly pack with that kind of trip in mind and I’d imagine it’ll be freezing, but I’ll go for a dip in my underwear if you will. Unless you think we’ll freak out the locals?”
I grinned. “Either way, it’s a deal.”
We drove with the windows down, the radio playing softly in the background. If I tried hard enough, I could almost pretend it was a normal day, the first one in ages. I glanced at Lily, and when she caught me doing so, smiled broadly.
“You okay?” she said.
Was I okay? Things felt better, somehow. More new and distinctive memories had come back. I’d been able to plan the renovation for the garage without any trouble, put in an order without becoming confused, and now I was spending time with Lily.
“I’m okay,” I said, reaching over to hold her hand.
We figured out the general direction of the coast before stopping to ask one of the locals for the nearest recommendation. He sent us to Sandy Point Bridge, where the tide wasn’t quite in yet, and the beach a combination of pebbles, sandbanks, mud and grass, but hardly any people. Lily and I walked along the shore for a little while, the water squelching beneath our toes.
“This’ll do,” she said, unzipping her jeans. “Last one in’s a loser.” With a whoop she pulled off her shirt and ran to the water shouting something that sounded like, “Towanda!”
I let my gaze wander over her lithe legs, her turquoise boy-shorts and matching bra, her long hair swish-swishing behind her. Everything around me faded, took me back to somewhere in my past. An image of her at a different beach, the sound of her laughing and yelling at me to hurry, except she’d called me Jack. The picture faded only to be replaced by another of us on a squishy blue sofa, watching one of her favorite movies. As the images faded and I came back to reality, I heard Lily calling me again, using my real name.
“Wait,” I shouted. “Lily, wait. Hold on.”
“What’s the matter?” she said, standing calf-deep in the water, her face falling.
“Towanda,” I said, wading in, ignoring the frigid temperatures and my anxiety about being back in the ocean. “Towanda,” I repeated, softly this time as I touched the bracelet on her wrist, the one with the heart-shaped charm I’d carefully hidden inside a box of chocolates. “I remember this. And the film about those fried tomatoes. I remember...you.”
We stared at each other before I pulled her to my chest, held her close as her hands slid up my back, arms looping around my neck. I bent my head toward hers. Our kiss was soft, cautious, and although I didn’t want to, I made myself pull away after a few seconds.
“That was wrong,” I said. “I shouldn’t have...”
She pulled me back in and kissed me again, with more intensity and urgency this time, her hands cupping my face, her mouth open, her tongue gently searching for mine. A voice somewhere in the distance shouted, “Get a room, you two.”
Lily laughed and let me go. “That was...nice,” she whispered.
I raised an eyebrow, putting a hand to my chest. “Nice? I’d better up my game.”
She laughed again and grabbed my hand, pulling me deeper into the water, our arms wrapping around one another again. It wasn’t warm enough for us to stay in long, and we soon headed back to our belongings, where we sat shoulder to shoulder on one of the rocks, watching the waves creep closer, her hand in mine.
“I haven’t felt this happy since before you went missing,” she said, pushing her wet hair out of her face, leaning in to me. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel like this again.”
I knew what she meant, except it wasn’t only happiness, but excitement about the future, too. Although she and I had barely spent any time together it seemed Dr. Adler
