Bondi Beach (16 page)

He reached up and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me down on top of him and kissing my face
. “I love you so much.” We both fell asleep for a few minutes. When I awoke, I kissed him and went into the bathroom to wash up. When I returned to bed, I climbed in beside him.

H
e turned his head and looked at me drowsily. “Eva?” he said softly.

“
Mmm?”

“
Thank you… for everything.”

I smiled
. “I’m glad you’re here.”

And with that, he kissed me on the forehead and fell asleep.

*****

I awoke a while later and got out of bed to make dinner
. That night, we made love again. Although I had missed that with him, I didn’t want to wear him out. However, I didn’t need to worry about that. We both slept well, and I awoke the next morning to the sounds of him making breakfast for the two of us.

Somehow, it was different here than it had been in Sydney. Maybe it's because
I’d had a chance to repay him for his kindness in taking care of me. I wasn't quite sure, but it felt more equal. In Sydney, I relied on him to drive me to my appointments, show me around, take care of me, and prepare my meals. Here, it was the other way around.

Aside from feeling that the relationship had become more equal, two things had occurred that were really important to me. First,
he had met a couple of my closest friends, and they had really liked one another. Somehow, introducing my friends to Martin and seeing how well they got along made me feel more secure that my relationship with him was based on something real and that I wasn’t missing anything.

Second, I was touched that,
when he was sick in Germany, he wanted to be with me. Maybe that wasn’t too different from him feeling loved when I trusted him to take care of me. I would have felt terrible if he had been sick and alone in Germany or had gone back to Sydney without anyone there who could care for him full time.

Either way, I was grateful that he was here – a month early
. I had no idea how long he would stay, but, as I thought of it, I felt a tiny bit of dread over the day that he would need to go back home.

Chapter 32

APRIL
3

I got out of bed and showered and dres
sed with the idea that I would go to the kitchen to see how I could help Martin. Before I got the chance, however, he had set breakfast up on the deck. Though it was a little chilly, it was a beautiful spring day, and I knew how much he loved to be outdoors.

It gave
me an idea for how we could spend the day. Given that he seemed to be feeling better and that he was a little tired of being cooped up in the house, I considered taking him for a longer car ride and, perhaps, an overnight someplace else. I raised the idea with him over breakfast.

"Martin," I began
. "How would you like to go to the beach today?”

“The beach?”
His eyes lit up. “Where?”

"It's a four-hour drive from here.
We could spend the night at a hotel and spend some of tomorrow and, maybe, the next day there as well." I could tell from his reaction that he liked the idea and that he'd missed the water. The mountains were beautiful but just weren’t the same.

We ate breakfast, and I packed
his suitcase and arranged a hotel while he showered. Then, I put his suitcase in the car along with my overnight bag. Of course, it would mean missing two painting classes, but this was more important. Martin’s Gabon trip had been grueling, and, on top of that, he'd come down with malaria. He needed some R&R even though the water would be too cold to swim or surf.

As we drove from the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains
eastward toward the coast, the landscape flattened out until we could see miles of farmland. A few hours later, the Atlantic Ocean lay before us.

Martin had never been to this side of the Atlantic before, having
only seen it from Europe. Given that it was still early spring, it was chilly and windy, and the beaches were sparse with people. It took the two of us to lay out a heavy blanket on the beach, but we finally managed and held the corners down with my cooler and our shoes – just as we had on our beach picnic behind his house.

We set up a
beach umbrella to block the wind. Once we lay in the sun, it was actually quite pleasant, particularly when I laid down beside Martin.

"Don't you want to go into the water?"
I asked after a while.

"No, not yet. I want
to warm up first.” He rolled over onto his belly, his arms crossed in front of him and his chin resting on them. He watched the water for a few minutes. "It looks a little choppy.” A storm was supposed to be on its way, but we weren't sure if it was going to hit this area or come to shore a little further north.

While he was watching the water, I
sat up and did some checking online using my phone. I decided to cancel our hotel reservation and booked us at a beach house instead. I thought it would be nicer if we were on the water rather than at a hotel a few blocks away.

When I looked up,
Martin had rolled onto his back and was watching me. "Were you playing with your phone when you walked into my surfboard?" he teased, a big grin on his face.

I shot him a look.
"Very funny. I’ll remember that."

A
quizzical look crossed his face. "What are you up to?"

"I k
now how much you love the water,” I began. “So, I just canceled our hotel and booked us at a house right on the beach."

"
You’re serious?" he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

I nodded.
“Yeah.”

He sat up
the rest of the way and put his arms around me. "Thank you.” I wrapped my arms around him and held him tightly as he closed his eyes and put his forehead against my temple. “I love you,” he whispered.

Smiling,
I rested my head against his shoulder and inhaled his scent mixed with the ocean air. "I know."

We sat like that
until both of us got cold and agreed to walk back to the car and drive to the house. Before we did, though, there was one thing that Martin needed to do.

He walked about 1
00 feet until he reached the edge of the water and turned around. “Aren't you coming in?"

"Only after I get a picture
of you in your element." I used my phone to snap a few photos of him with his back to me looking out over the water, one of him facing me, and a few more with him in the water up to his neck. He looked so at peace. I forwarded one to Flo to let her know that he was okay. She sent a text to me a few minutes later thanking me for the photo.

I walked down to the shore and got into the water up to my ankles and, then,
to my knees.

"Don’t you love it?"
he asked.

I was shivering and laughing
. "It's freezing!"

He laughed, too.
"You’ll get used to it after a few minutes."

"No," I said laughing. "That's called hypothermia."

Martin splashed water in my direction but missed. So, he stepped forward and took my hand, pulling me in until we were both up to our necks. Wrapping one arm around me, he tried to keep me warm from behind. However, I could tell that he was tiring from fighting against the current.

“Come on,” I said. “You’re getting tired. Let’s pack up and go find the house
.”

We loaded up the car and drove up the beach a few miles
. Using the navigator on my phone, we found a small road that led up a bluff to the house, which sat alone overlooking the ocean. It was a beautiful old Cape Cod that had been fully restored and kept in mint condition. Painted in a sage green with cream trim, it had broad front steps, functioning wooden shutters with slats, a wraparound porch that extended all the way around the back of the house, and another porch off of the third-floor master bedroom.

We looked at each other as we pulled up in the driveway
.

“This is beautiful,” he said
.

I nodded, and we got out of the car.

There wasn't much to block the wind except for some evergreen trees that had been planted around the rear of the house. We carried our things indoors, and I turned on the heat to take off the chill.

Both of us were like excited children exploring the house, finding the flashlights, noticing where the candles
and matches were, and enjoying spectacular views out of every window. We found board games tucked away in the closet. A game of Scrabble lay on the table in the front parlor. We looked at one another. Clearly, this house was meant for us.

Martin and I
walked up the stairs to the second level where we found three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Then, we ascended the steps to the third level and found a large master suite with butter yellow walls, thick white base and crown molding, and a large round window that sat high in the wall over the double white French doors, which opened out onto a deep balcony overlooking the Atlantic in the distance.

Martin turned to me. "This couldn
't be more beautiful. Thank you for arranging all of this."

"It sure beats a hotel, doesn't it?"
I asked.

We walked out on
to the balcony and stood in silence looking out at the water. He put an arm around me as a cool evening breeze moved through.

"Come on," he said. "Let's
go out for dinner and try to make it back in time for sunset."

"Okay
. But let's get our suitcases up to the bedroom first so we don’t have to do it later."

We went out to the car and unpack
ed it, carrying everything up to the master bedroom. Then, we returned to the car and drove into town to search for a place to eat dinner. Because it was getting a little late and we thought that we might miss sunset, we stopped at a restaurant with huge windows overlooking the water. I laughed.

"What's so funny?" he asked
.

"You know the sun won’t set over this water since it's facing East."

"Yes, I know."

"Okay.
I’m just trying to help,” I giggled. “In my own defense, if I was in your shoes, after having been on four continents in the last month, I wouldn't know which way the sun was setting."

"Fortunately,” he
smiled, “I have a great sense of direction when it comes to water."

When
the waiter came to take our drink orders, we looked over our menus and ordered our meals as well. We were both hungry as we had only snacked in the car on the way to the beach.

The
meal was simple and delicious with hot soup, fresh salads, and a warm loaf of bread just out of the oven. We enjoyed looking out over the water, holding hands intermittently and talking while we ate our dinners. We took our time with mugs of hot cider before finally leaving the restaurant and heading back to the house.

The sun was setting as
Martin walked up to the master bedroom and out onto the balcony. There were brilliant apricots and lavenders in the sky, and we sat in the two chairs on the balcony holding hands and watching the sunset.

"Martin," I said in barely a whisper. "Why didn't we do this
at your house?"

He shrugged.
"Melanie never wanted to. I guess I just didn’t think of it."

"Did you ever sit outside a
t home and watch the sunset?"

“Alone?”

I nodded.

"
Yeah. A lot of times."

F
inally, it became too chilly for us to sit outside, and we went inside and put the sheets, blankets, and comforter on the bed. Then, I drew a hot bath for us complete with raspberry bubble bath, and Martin walked through the house to ensure that all of the doors and windows were locked.

H
e joined me in the bathroom where we stripped off our clothes and stepped into the tub. This time, I sat behind him and washed his neck and his back, which I kissed as I rinsed them with warm water. Then, I rubbed his shoulders and back to relax him. Finally, he seemed so relaxed that I wondered if he’d nodded off in my arms. When the water began to cool, he awoke and sat up while I soaped myself up and rinsed quickly.

We could hear the wind blow around the house as the storm
arrived. We drained the tub, toweled off, and went to bed. The house had warmed considerably since we'd arrived, but there was something comforting about having heavy layers of blankets and a big quilt over us as we lay listening to the wind.

The sounds of the wind intensified
as it shook the house and rattled the storm windows through the night. There were periods when one or both of us would be awakened by a trash can lid or something else flying around the yard. No matter. We were safe with one another and always would be.

At one point, after we'd both been awakened,
Martin lay with one arm around me and stroked my arm absent-mindedly. He asked quietly, "Do you miss Jack?"

I turned to look at him. The moonlight cast a soft glow on his face. “At times.”

"When?"

I took a deep breath, exhaled, and closed my eyes
. "I have pangs every now and again. When something reminds me of him. Like watching someone shovel snow or seeing a man dressed as Santa Claus just to make children happy. There are a lot of things that remind me of Jack."

"Is it okay that I asked?"
he said gently.

"Yes. I'm curious though. What made you think of it?"

I heard him take a slow deep breath and let it out. "When I was in Gabon, I thought about you a lot. During the days, everything was hectic. But when I’d wake up or go to sleep at night, you were always on my mind. I would think about you lying in my arms in Sydney, and it felt so far away. I thought about how special our time together was but also how fleeting it was. I wondered if you'd felt that way with Jack when he was sick.”

I felt my eyes fill with tears
.

He continued softly. “
We haven’t even been together for three months. I have such strong feelings for you, but I still know so little about you. I guess I realized that if I feel this way about you already and if your relationship with Jack was as good as you said it was, you probably miss him. Maybe,” he continued quietly, “you’re still in love with him."

He hadn't realized t
hat I was crying, but he should have known. I reached for the Kleenex box by the side of the bed and sat up and blew my nose. The room felt a little cool, and I shivered automatically. Martin sat up beside me and rubbed my back. "Eva, I'm so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought this up now.”

I shook my head. "
It’s okay. Jack was a good man. But, somehow, when you watch someone die over the course of a few years, there is a different sort of finality to it than when someone dies suddenly. It was heartbreaking. He was kind, and there was really never a need to argue. We just always talked things out. Even when we didn't agree on everything, it didn’t really matter. Before he died,” I hesitated, trying to catch my breath, “and when he knew he was dying, he told me that there was someone else out there for me. He didn't know where or when, but he knew that I would never be alone. Of course, I didn't want to hear that then."