I pointed at the treetop. “There’s an eagle’s nest right over there, and there are eaglets, too. They’re kind of hard to spot, but keep your eye out.”
Natalie looked from the eagles to the alligators and back again while I removed the plastic cover from the tray of food and grabbed another beer from the cooler. I popped a strawberry into my mouth and settled into one of the recliners. Leaning back, I used the lever to raise the leg support.
“Comfy?” Natalie smirked.
“My grandfather was a wise man when it came to luxury.”
Natalie picked a few grapes from the platter and took a seat, though she didn’t fully recline the chair.
“I can’t believe I’ve finally seen an alligator,” she marveled.
“You mention a desire, I make it happen. I’m a bit like a genie in that way.”
She made a face, but I could tell she was warming to my humor. I balanced a piece of cheese on a cracker as Natalie set her beer on the table.
“So…is this your thing?” she asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“All of this,” she said, spreading her arms wide. “The setup back at your house, boat rides, surprises. Is this how you generally try to pick up women?”
“Not always.” I took a meek sip of my beer.
“Then why the big show today?”
“Because I thought you’d enjoy it.” I leaned my bottle toward hers. “To the alligators.”
“And the eagle,” she agreed reluctantly, reaching for her bottle and tapping it against mine. “But don’t try to change the subject.”
“I’m not sure what the subject is.”
“I get the vibe that you’re a player. When it comes to women, I mean.”
“Because I’m so clever and charismatic?”
“Because I’m not na?ve.”
“Fair enough.” I laughed. “But it’s not just me. You could have declined my invitation.”
She reached for another grape. “I know,” she finally agreed, her voice dropping an octave.
“Do you regret it?”
“Actually, I don’t.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am,” she said, and for the next few minutes, neither of us said anything. Instead, we took in the view, Natalie finally spotting the eaglets in the nest. She lifted her phone to get some pics, but by that time, they’d ducked below the rim of the nest again. I heard her sigh, squinting at me.
“Have you ever been in love?” she asked.
Though I hadn’t expected the question, an unbidden memory of Sandra rose to the surface. “I think so,” I said.
“You think?”
“When we were together, I thought I was,” I admitted. “But now, I’m not sure.”
“Why wouldn’t you be sure?”
“If I were really in love, I think I’d miss her more than I do. I’d think about her more.”
“Who was she?”
I hesitated. “She was a trauma nurse—her name was Sandra. She was smart. Beautiful. Passionate about her work. We met in Pensacola and we were happy together at first, but it got complicated after I was deployed to Afghanistan.” I shrugged. “When I came back, I…”
I looked over at her.
“I already told you I wasn’t in a good space mentally or emotionally, and I took it out on her. I’m amazed she put up with me for as long as she did.”
“How long were you together?”
“A little more than two years. But you have to remember, I was gone a lot of the time. By the end, I wondered how well we even knew each other. After we broke up, it took me a while to understand that I missed the idea of having someone, as opposed to missing her. I knew I never loved her the way my grandfather loved my grandmother, or even the way my parents loved each other. My grandfather was a true romantic; my parents were partners and friends and they complemented each other perfectly. I didn’t feel either of those things with Sandra. I don’t know. Maybe I just wasn’t ready.”
“Or maybe she wasn’t the one.”
“Maybe.”
“Anyone else? When you were younger maybe?”
For whatever reason, my mind flashed to Yoga Girl, but I shook my head. “I went out with girls in high school and college, but nothing monumental. After my parents died, while in medical school and residency, I told myself that I was too busy for anything serious.”
“You probably were.”