The Sky Beneath Her(23)

“Where?”

“They’re all north of Duck.”

“We get ahead of the traffic.” The two-lane road that wound through Duck spent most of the summer in a state of gridlock. I added, “After we’re finished, I want to stop by the house in Southern Shores. I can drive if you don’t have the time to stop.”

“No, I should have a little time. It’s on the way back to Nags Head.”

“Can I take my coffee with me?”

“Sure. You hungry?”

“Not really.”

“You didn’t eat much.”

“I’ll grab a candy bar or chips at some point.”

She cringed. “That kind of eating is going to kill you.”

“Dave said that a lot. And I’m still standing.” And ten or, realistically, twenty pounds heavier.

She grabbed a granola bar and handed it to me. “What’s the land shark up to these days?”

“I believe he’s prepping for an ultramarathon in Wisconsin. Maybe an Ironman, I think. Whatever, it’s a ridiculous amount of time running.” Dave was addicted to working out. There wasn’t a moment when he wasn’t either preparing for a ride, racing, or recovering from an injury or muscle strain. I’d been his support team for several years. I never liked the races, but he loved them, and I was on Team Dave.

“I never said I’m sorry about the divorce. I know you wanted the marriage to work.”

“Lesson learned. No one can be your anchor, no matter how hard you wish it.” I’d thought living with a land lover who worshiped solid ground would provide the distance I needed from the ocean. But the longer I stayed away, the more miserable I became. And still, I hadn’t quit the cubicle job, because I was afraid to be totally untethered.

“We’ve all had lessons like that.”

I summoned a bright smile. “Can we focus on scrubbing toilets? I’m kind of jazzed about that.”

Kaitlin laughed. “Your wish is my desire.”

Cross-body purse slung over my shoulder and coffee in hand, I followed her through the dimly lit living room. “How did you find this place?”

“The former owner ran a bait-and-tackle shop. I heard he was retiring, and I came to see him. We hit it off immediately, and he priced this place so I could afford it.”

“That was nice.”

“Beyond kind. He loved the idea that I surfed.”

“How’s it working for you?”

“Location’s great and the monthly payment manageable, but being a property owner is more of a commitment than I realized.”

Whitewashed beams, blond wood floors, and light blue walls gave the space a magical feeling. The secondhand cargo furniture found on the side of the road had been painted all shades of blues and whites, along with the coffee table, covered in shells and polyurethane coating. The surfing art covered walls in need of a paint job. Air-conditioning strained against the late-spring heat, and the windows looked like they couldn’t stand up to a nor’easter’s winds and rain.

This building promised years of evening and weekend work. It could be cool—one day. But I didn’t plan to be here that long.

“There are times I want to sell,” Kaitlin said. “I have this desire to travel the world with my board. A free spirit, you know? I’ve always been stuck here.”

“Why don’t you sell? There’s nothing really holding you here.”

“I’ve worked hard to build all this. And my mother would roll over in her grave if I gave up the cleaning business.”

“Honey, your mother has passed. You got to live your own life.”

“I envy you sometimes. You’ve always been able to distance yourself. You never get too attached emotionally, if you know what I mean.”

“Not exactly a superpower.”

“I wish I was more like the old you.”

I did too sometimes. “Be careful what you wish for.”

Kaitlin sighed. “Right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” There was a slight hitch in my throat when I spoke. “I read some of the manuscript last night. Slow going. Some of the type has faded.”

“And?”

“Talk of spirits and magical coins among the passengers. Dr. Brooks mentioned he wished for a long life. He got it.”

“Never underestimate magic. This is a magical place. Some say we live on the edge separating the living and dead.”

“Mom used to toss some of her coffee into the ocean each morning before she dove. She said it was for the ocean gods.”

I couldn’t remember if Mom had poured any coffee into the water that last day.

“She also wore that coin on a cord around her neck, like you do now.”

“She left it behind that final dive.”

“I remember.” She hesitated, not voicing what I’d feared. That Mom knew she wasn’t coming back. “Where did she get it?”

“She said her dad gave it to her.” All I knew about my grandfather was that he served in the merchant marines and was at sea for most of his life.

“Do you ever take it off?”

I fingered the coin and crystal. Dave had often asked me to take off the necklace when we had a formal event for his work, but I never did. “No.”