I always thought falling in love was something that happened all at once. I didn’t know it could sneak up on you, making an appearance when you least expect it, and sweep you away so completely that you are left utterly helpless in its wake.
5:07 pm April 5, 2011
I select another flat stone from the bag we collected yesterday. I throw it perfectly, watching enthralled as it skips four times before slipping beneath the surface of the massive tidal pool. Behind me Oliver whoops and dances with reckless abandon to celebrate my accomplishment bringing a smile to my lips.
“I think that was your best one Eve, but now it’s time for the professional to show you exactly how it’s done,” he says, joining me by the pool’s edge in four long strides.
“Oh really? You think you can top that? Go ahead and try then!” I exclaim with my hands on my hips. “Just know that the loser of this not only has to buy dinner, but must also grant the winner a wish.”
His grin falters, and suddenly he looks less sure of himself. A moment later his expression clears, but when he looks at me, I can see his eyes are serious. “Any wish?” I bit my lower lip, and nod. “I better make this count then,” he replies with an intensity I’ve only seen when he is painting.
I back up, depositing myself on the nearest dune to watch. He weighs the stone as he crouches down to gaze at the placid water. A light breeze lifts his curly hair from his eyes, and my breath catches. He winds up, and in a smooth, perfect gesture releases the stone. It sails across the surface tapping the water one, two, three, four, five times before sinking into the dark liquid.
I smirk at him as I applaud, standing. He turns and I expect a look of triumph, but the expression on his face is longing. Before I can react he closes the distance between us and sweeps me into his arms. His lips touch mine and I’m falling into the dune. He follows me, cradling me closer and I’m so distracted that I do the unthinkable. I kiss him back.
He tastes of peppermint and salt, and when our tongues meet he moans softly. Instead of pulling away, he seems to want more. I don’t know how long the kiss lasts, but we are both breathless when it’s over. He caresses my face and I close my eyes as his callused fingertips trace my eyebrows, nose and mouth.
“Eve,” he whispers in my ear, his lips tickling my lobe. “I wish for you. It’s all I ever wish for.”
He backs off, and I feel him staring, waiting for a response. I open my eyes and meet his gaze. The ocean reflects in his pupils making them appear stormy.
“I know.”
“But…”
“But?”
“I don’t want you to do this just because I want it. I…”
That’s as far as I let him get because that’s when I realize I want him too. I’ve always wanted him, I was just too afraid to admit it to anyone, even myself. I should have been more careful, but all my regrets float away in the foamy waters by Bandon Bluff. I am drowning again, and for the first time in my life I don’t care.
10:52 am, August 5, 2008
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” Mom asks for the fourth time. I roll my eyes. Even with the promise of lunch out, nothing she could offer would be tempting enough to lure me into a department store with my mother. The only shopping I did was in the art supply store or from my laptop. I stretch like a cat and curl up again in a slightly different position on the couch.
“I’m in the middle of a Gossip Girl marathon. I’ve got to catch up before the next season premiers on the first. Besides, Joanie is coming over for lunch.”
“Honestly Lyn, I don’t know why you waste your time on that crap.”
“Shhh! Commercials are over…”
I smile as I hear her footsteps retreat and the car pull away. What I didn’t tell her, is that I’m actually watching the season finale and only have one segment left. I watch it through to the bitter end, even though I’ve lost interest three episodes ago. I want to be prepared just in case Joan decides a pop quiz is on order for later today.
I’ve got an hour to kill, so I decide to make myself presentable. I collect my things and venture into the bathroom upstairs. I’m only halfway through rinsing the shampoo out of my hair when the light bulb burns out.
“Are you kidding me?” I scream to the ceiling. Of course I’m in the one room that doesn’t have any windows. I try to rinse the remaining soap from my body, but quickly realize it’s a lost cause. I fumble for the faucet, managing to scald myself as I turn it first the wrong way. I stagger from the room, relieved when I throw open the door allowing light into the steamy claustrophobic space. I dart down the hall to grab my robe and contemplate my options.
I debate myself all the way to the doorway leading to our basement. I look down the staircase that seems to disappear into nothingness. I’ve never liked going underground, especially in the dark. Something about it has always felt wrong, so I avoid holes in the ground like the plague. Unfortunately, the only spare light bulbs we own reside in the cabinet at the base of the stairs. I take two tentative steps forward, and nearly slip on the third. I take a deep breath and will my legs to move. Step by step, breath by breath, I reach the bottom.
I flip the light switch and the resulting strobe gradually subsides to bathe me in dim light. I open the doors with a dramatic flourish and as my eyes sweep the contents of the shelves, a familiar wooden box shoved in the farthest corner at the top grabs my attention.
“I don’t believe it,” I say pulling it from its perch. The light bulb is forgotten as I sink to the steps. My hands are shaking so badly, I’m barely able to free the clasp. I slowly open the cover, peering inside as the contents reveal themselves. The faded photo is on top, but I’ve seen this before. I want to know what else I’ve been missing out on.
I dip my fingers into the box and carefully sift through the various trinkets. There is a faded plush baby toy, a clay circle with a tiny handprint in its center, and a card stamped with two perfect baby feet. A small translucent bag holds a dated lock of red hair, but I zero in on a plastic bracelet.
“This looks like a hospital bracelet,” I whisper lifting it to eye level. I notice the clean cut that removed it from the child who wore it as I inspect the contraband. Typed on a faded piece of paper inserted between the plastic layers are ‘Baby Girl Dae’ and ‘4-1-94’ in smudged ink. Why would my hospital bracelet be in this box?
“Oh my God…” I say as understanding floods my mind. “She’s my twin!”