Don't Forget to Write: A Novel(39)



“I don’t care,” I said, nestling in deeper to the crook of his arm.

He chuckled and shifted slightly, reaching over my head for the alarm clock on the nightstand, its radium dial glowing green in the darkness. “Do you want to go watch the sun rise over the ocean?”

I sat up. I did. I wanted to watch the day dawn over the new world I was living in. “Let’s go!”

Freddy laughed as I jumped out of bed, then I winced slightly at the soreness in my thighs. “You might want some clothes,” he said. “Although I’ll never object to none.”

I leaned over the bed, kissing him lazily, as if we had all the time in the world instead of just a few days. He started to pull me back to him, but I resisted. “Shouldn’t have mentioned the sunrise if you didn’t want to go,” I murmured. “Come on.”

Freddy heaved himself out of the bed, and pulled on his pants and then his undershirt as I stepped into a pair of underwear and put my beach caftan on over them.

He looked at me, silhouetted in the light from the hall. “What are you waiting for?”

“Just memorizing how you look right now.”

“You mean a mess?” I pushed my curls back.

“Perfectly you,” he said, coming and kissing my forehead. “Let’s go.”

I grabbed the beach towel that had been hanging on the porch railing to dry, and we ran down the steps together, then climbed the path over the dune in the gray darkness.

The beach was empty and the air chilly. I should have been self-conscious in just the sheer fabric of my coverup, but after the previous night, I couldn’t imagine ever feeling shy around Freddy again.

He spread the towel just above the line where the wet sand indicated that the tide was going out, then sat and held a hand out to me to sit next to him.

Freddy wrapped his arm around me, and we watched the horizon for a pinprick of light. But his lips soon found my neck, and my breathing hitched as they slipped lower, his fingers reaching up to unbutton the caftan. Before I knew it, he had shifted us and was laying me down on the towel, while I reached for the button on his trousers.

I turned my head as our bodies found their rhythm, catching sight of the first beam of sun peeking over the water, and I called Freddy’s name. “Look,” I said.

“I’m looking at something much more beautiful.”

But after, as Freddy buttoned his pants and reached down to fasten my caftan, he shook his head. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

I looked at him suspiciously. Here it was. “No?”

“No, no, no, don’t look at me like that. I meant without . . .” He trailed off.

I could feel my face flushing, and I bit my lip as his meaning became clear. “Oh.”

“It was just the one time,” he said. “I’m sure it will be fine. And if it’s not, well, we’ll just move our timeline up.”

I made a wry face. “You do know that you haven’t asked me, and I haven’t said yes.”

“And I don’t intend to—yet. I’m just saying you don’t have to worry about me.”

Leaning into him as the sun separated from the ocean, I turned my face toward his. “I’m not.”

He kissed my hair, and we sat together contentedly for a long time.





Eventually, Freddy went home for a shower, fresh clothes, and a nap. He would return in the afternoon, after Frannie had finished checking on me, promising another fun outing. “I don’t care what we do,” I protested. “I’m happy to just lie on the beach with you.”

He grinned lasciviously.

“I don’t mean like that!”

“I’m crushed. But I still want to take you out.”

I walked Sally, then went upstairs, intending to shower. But I wasn’t quite ready to wash off the feel of Freddy’s skin on mine, and I was too invigorated to sleep. Instead, I sat at my typewriter and pulled a fresh sheet of paper from the ream.

I understood so much more about my characters now. About how the circumstances of their families and births would pale in comparison to their feelings.

By the time I heard the front door open and Frannie greet Sally, I had filled six pages.

I called down a hello and went to take a shower, thinking about how it might be smart to have dinner with Freddy’s family again. I could use more material. Though I was now certain there would be plenty of opportunities for that later.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


Ada called later that morning to check in, concerned far more with Sally than with me. “Is she eating? She’s never been without me before.”

I leaned way back, trying to see if her bowl was empty. I probably would have noticed if there was still food in it when I fed her that morning. “She’s perfectly fine. I promise. She’s even warming up to me.” I smiled at the memory of her growling at Freddy, as if she were a wolf instead of a tiny little creature who would have difficulty battling a large squirrel.

“Are you sure she feels all right?”

“Ada! She’s fine. How’s Lillian holding up?”

Ada sighed. “Not so well. It’s good that I came.”

“When will you be back?”

“What’s today? Wednesday?” I confirmed. “Sunday, then. The funeral is set for Friday.”

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