Chasing Sunsets (8 page)

“Do you get to see your family often?”

“Not often enough.”

“Where are you from, Patsy?”

“South Carolina. You?”

“Orlando.”

“I moved down here about five years ago, but I said that now, didn’t I? Sold the old house and bought this house from the people who’d lived here for quite a number of years. Those are the neighbors you probably remember.”

I nodded. “Probably.”

“How long has your daddy owned the house next door?”

I took a sip of tea. “Since before I was born. The first time I can remember being here, I think I was . . . maybe five.”

“Summers mostly?”

“And holidays. Some weekends. As we girls got older, it got harder to get away . . . what with so many school activities going on.”

“I remember those days.”

I looked at my watch. “Patsy, let me help you clean up. I want to make sure I get down to see the sunset tonight.” I gathered together my plate, fork, and tumbler.

“We have some pretty ones, don’t we?” Patsy remained seated.

“Would you like to go with me?” I asked from the sink. I turned on the water and rinsed my plate.

Patsy didn’t answer right away. I looked over my shoulder. She appeared to be pondering the suggestion. Oddly, even though we’d just met, I kind of hoped she’d say that she’d like to go. Finally, she said, “You know, I think I will.”

I smiled. “Wonderful.” I returned to the table to clear away the rest of the dishes. “Patsy, what time do you think sunset will be?”

“Lately it’s been around 9:00.” Patsy drew herself up from the table, then held on to the side for a moment.

“Are you all right?”

Watery eyes met mine. “Fine. Just getting old.”

I finished the dishes with Patsy beside me and then told her I’d be back to get her at 7:45. When I went outside, I found Max sitting at the foot of the stairs and Oreo nowhere in sight.

“Come on, Max,” I said. “Let’s get you fed.”

Max panted as he looked up at me. I patted his golden head and said, “Looks like you and I have made two unlikely friends, eh?”

Max barked his agreement.

Summer 1987

The aroma of cocoa mixed with the humidity already thick in the air. Night’s clouds had taken flight; a remaining few stood guard over the bay. Close to the dock they were dark gray. Nearer to the horizon they were soft shades of white and gold. Directly above Dog Island was a deep stretch of dark blue centered with shades of pink.

The sun was rising.

Between Steven and me lay a paper plate filled with sticky buns, a covered Tupperware bowl of homemade granola, and two small containers of yogurt. Between sips of cocoa and kisses, we nibbled on the breakfast Steven’s mother had prepared for us the night before.

“Here it comes,” I whispered, raising my camera slowly as though it might startle the sun away.

“We still have a while to go,” Steven said.

The sun could stay below the horizon forever as far as I was concerned. The longer it took it to rise, the longer I could sit on this dock with the boy I loved.

I shot the picture anyway along with two or three more. “Still, it’s pretty, don’t you think?”

“Beautiful,” he said.

I looked at him. Instinctively I knew he wasn’t talking about the vista before us. I shifted as close as the plate would allow, then leaned over for the hundredth kiss that morning alone. Maybe even the millionth. I’d stopped counting the night before when we’d held hands on the beach of Atsena Otie and watched the sunset, two young lovers completely alone.

“I could do this all day,” I finally admitted.

“Not me. Dad said I’ve got to work today . . . said I’ve spent way too much time goofing off with—and I quote—that Claybourne girl.”

I playfully shrugged a shoulder. “As long as you aren’t goofing off with any other girl, I can live with that.”

He smiled, then looked out over the water lying nearly motionless, rippled only by the one or two early morning fishing boats. Even the birds above and the fish below seemed to think it was too early still.

I raised my camera again. The lone white cloud had risen higher in the sky; the pink below it became more vivid. I took the shot then lowered the camera once more.

“What are you going to do with all the pictures you take?”

“I’m taking a photography class at school this coming year. There are also some contests I can enter.” I smiled at him. “Why?”

“I dunno. Just wondered, I guess.” He paused. “Do you think you’ll do that for a living one day? Take pictures?”

I felt myself shiver in the heat of the morning. Steven had opened a door to talk about the future . . . would it include
ours
? “Maybe. Dad says I should become a photojournalist. Maybe go to work for
National Geographic
.”

“You’d be away from home a lot, I imagine.”

Again I shrugged. “I guess. I mean, that is . . . if I decide to go that route.” I looked out over the water and swung my legs like scissors cutting through time. “What about you? What are you going to do? Work your dad’s boat?”

His eyes opened wide. “Heavens no. I’m leaving for Florida State in the fall. I’m going to study business management . . . get off this island and get a real life.”

I felt disappointment slide down my spine. “Where will you go? After college, I mean.”

“I don’t know. After four years of college there ought to be some door open to me. I’ll look for the right doors and I’ll walk through them.”

“Is that it?”

Steven nodded. “I guess so. It’s as far ahead as I can think right now anyway.” He paused, then added, “Look.”

I followed his gaze to the horizon, where the sun now hung low in the eastern sky, veiled in baby pink. Darker pink clouds shaped like a
V
spread wide above it, finally giving way to the white that had been there all along.

I raised my camera, took shot after shot, mindless—almost numb—to its beauty. A great blue heron flew into view. I captured it forever with its wings spread wide, gliding over the calm of the water in search of a place to land. The sun rose higher, turning neon pink and orange. The sky around it returned to gray-blue. Magically the orb before us changed its color again, from neon to blazing yellow surrounded by shimmering red. A wide line on the water, now dotted with waking herons, rippled under the reflection.

I finished one roll of film, then replaced it with another. I shot eight more photos then lowered my camera for good. All the while Steven had sat there, staring at the landscape before us, unaware—I felt—of the war going on inside me. The need to capture the moment versus the concern that I was only a summer fling to Steven.

When he was so much more than that to me.

“How do you think you did?” he finally asked.

“Good, I think.”

“There’s a photo lab on the mainland in Gainesville. Maybe we can take them there this evening . . . pick them up tomorrow?” He looked down at the plate, picked up a sticky bun, tore off a piece, and extended it toward my lips. I opened them, allowed him to feed me, then nibbled on his fingertips, which he drew back.

“Careful,” he said, but elaborated no further.

He swung his legs and jumped to stand on the deck. I carefully packed my camera into its case, keeping my eyes away from his, then allowed him to help me stand. He glanced at his watch. “I gotta get you home and then get to work.”

I nodded.

“Okay if I pick you up at 6:00? We’ll grab a burger or something . . .”

“With fries?” I said, maybe a little too quickly. One thing I knew about Steven: he loved fries.

“You know me well.” He winked. “Sound good?”

“I’m sure Mom will say it’s okay.”

Rosa was waiting outside when Steven brought me home. She leaned against one of the oaks, twirling her long dark hair around a finger. Seeing us, she straightened. I waved with all the enthusiasm of a girl spying her best friend. Rosa lifted her hand lazily, then let it fall.

“Thank goodness Rosa is here.” I looked at Steven as the truck slowed to a stop. “If I can’t be with you, at least I have her and Heather to pal around with.”

Steven’s gaze appeared guarded. “What kind of stuff do you do with her?”

“Swim mostly. Otherwise we look at
Glamour
magazines and talk about hair and makeup. You know, girl stuff.”

He leaned over and kissed me so quickly I almost missed the moment. “Just be careful.”

I drew back. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” He smiled then. “I really have to go.”

I stole a final kiss, then bounded out of the car and over to Rosa. Together we watched the truck back out of the driveway, then turn sharply and head back for the main highway.

“So, where have you been?” Rosa asked. She leaned against the tree again, crossed her arms.

“Steven and I watched the sun rise.” I raised my camera. “I think I got some good shots.”

Rosa’s smile was crooked. At fifteen she had already bloomed into an exotic island flower. I was certain there were not too many boys who hadn’t tried to date her already. But Eliana—a widow with no husband to keep the proverbial shotgun prepared—had stood firm and stated emphatically that Rosa would not see any boy until she was sixteen. Even her escort for her quinceañera had been her cousin Luis from the mainland.

Secretly, I wondered though. Rosa was like a wild mustang that couldn’t be saddled with the rules of her “overprotective mama.”

“You went out with him last night too?”

I felt heat rush to my cheeks. “We did. Last night it was the sunset. Tonight . . . dinner.”

“Dinner? Steven Granger is gonna buy you dinner?”

I kicked at the sand with my sandaled toes. “Well . . . burgers.”

Rosa laughed. “Not me,
chica.
When I date, the boy is gonna take me to the fancy places in town or there will be no dating Rosa Rivera.”

We walked over to the platform, where the Adirondack chairs gleamed white in the morning sunlight. “Do you have your eyes on anyone?” I asked.

Rosa laughed lightly. “Maybe.” We sat. “But tell me more about you and Steven,” she coaxed.

I crossed my legs, leaned my head back, and closed my eyes. “It’s all good.”

“Does he kiss you? I mean, other than that little pecking thing I saw in the truck there.”

I looked at Rosa and nodded. “Oh yeah.”

“What else do you do? Come on, now. You can tell me.”

I laughed then. “No,” I said. “Nothing like that. Just kissing.”

“But you want to, no?”

“But I won’t. I’ve made myself a promise to wait, and I’m going to wait.”

Rosa looked up at the house. “Papa Bear would kill you if you didn’t, I’d suspect.”

I laughed again. “He’d kill us both if he even thought it was a possibility. But Dad knows where I stand on that issue. He knows I want to wait.”

Rosa stood and looked down at me. “Then,
linda
, I suggest you be careful how you behave when you are with Steven.”

“Meaning?”

Rosa reached over and tugged at the loose strands of my hair. “It means, if you don’t want to fight the bull, stay out of the ring.”

The first thing I noticed about Patsy when she opened the door was the small digital camera wrapped in her hand.

“Ready?” I asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” she answered.

During the drive to 1st and G streets, I asked her more about her family, most specifically if any of them lived nearby. “Not near enough,” was all she said in answer.

“You said you’re divorced. I imagine your sons are with their father now?”

I looked straight ahead. The sun was sinking fast and the sky was turning exquisite shades of red and orange. “Yes,” I answered. “For five weeks this summer.”

“Is this week one?”

I could only nod. “Patsy, do you live here full-time?” I asked for change of subject.

“Every day of the year as long as the Lord allows.”

I jutted my chin outward. “Do you ever get tired of this vista?”

“Never.” She raised her camera. “That’s why I brought this thing. One of my grans sent it to me. He’s stationed over in Iraq, and he says my pictures keep him close to home.”

“How nice of you to send him photographs, Patsy. I’m sure he enjoys your letters too.”

“What letters?” Patsy almost huffed. “We keep in touch on Facebook. Of course, he can’t tell me anything important like where he is and what he’s doing, but at least I know he’s all right.”

“My oldest, Chase, is on Facebook. Cody is champing at the bit for an account, but I told him he has to wait until he’s thirteen, like the rules say.”

Patsy reached over and patted my knee. “You’re a good mama.”

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. “I just love my sons.”

We turned off the main road and onto 3rd. “So then do you keep up on Facebook with what they are doing while they’re with their father?”

“Uh . . . no. I don’t have an account.”

“What? Well, hon, let me get you set up later on, okay? You need to keep up with your boys. Especially these days.”

I smiled at the older woman. “Will you?” I asked. “I honestly hadn’t thought of getting an account to keep up with them.”

Patsy looked out her window. “Land, will you look at that sunset. Downright romantic.” She grinned at me. “Nothing personal, darlin’, but I sure wish you were a man right now.”

We laughed together as I turned off 3rd and onto G Street. By the time we reached 2nd and G, a few cars were parked along the Gulf side of the road so I slid into place behind the last. Patsy opened her door and slung her legs out. “Now, listen. I can’t walk up to 1st, but you go on ahead. That’s where all the locals like to gather. I’m just gonna sit right here and take my pictures.”

I looked toward the place where I knew most of the people would be standing. I’d hoped to see Maddie and her friend there. “I hate to leave you here . . .”

“You’re not leaving me,” Patsy said. “I’m kicking you out.”

I opened the door. “Can I leave my purse here then?”

“Of course.” Patsy looked around as she said, “Where’s your camera?”

My chest tightened. “I left it at home.”

She turned back toward the Gulf. “I’ll have to share some of mine with you then.”

I nodded then stepped out of the car.

The air was thick. Heavy. The skin of my arms and legs became clammy. But the scene before me was beautiful. I watched as locals ambled from their homes across the street, many of them with a glass in their hands. They chatted with each other like old friends . . . and I was sure most of them were. This was the time of night when work had ceased. The calming of day. A time when, like the sun on the water, reflections could be made without fear.

The sun sunk lower toward a line of trees marking where Cedar Key attempted to wrap around itself. Low-lying clouds turned gold and hung like a net over the glistening water. Beneath them several gulls swooped as they called out. Though I wanted to walk on ahead in hopes of finding Maddie, I found myself unable to move, mesmerized by painted nature.

“I thought that was you.”

Startled, I turned in the direction of the voice. A man stood shadowed only a few yards to my left. “I’m sorry?”

“Kimberly, right?”

I squinted. With the distance between us I could only make out his build—tall and muscular—and the dark crop of his hair. He wore tan shorts, an untucked short-sleeved shirt, and Birkenstocks.

When I still said nothing, he added, “Kimberly-Boo?”

Struck with fear, I managed, “Who are you?”

He took a step forward. The scent of expensive cologne and Gulf water met me before he said, “You don’t remember your old island buddy, I suppose.”

My breath came ragged as my heart skipped.
Could it be?
“Steven?”

Another two steps and I could see his face. He’d changed over the years. Blond streaks had grown dark brown. The boyish features had given way to a man’s. Then they’d been soft; now he seemed handsomely chiseled. The brow was naturally furrowed and eyes less carefree. But the impish grin hadn’t been stolen by time. That alone remained. “One and the same.”

“I . . .”

“Don’t know what to say?”

“Quite frankly, no.”

Now he stood directly before me. And when he smiled I saw the young man I’d fallen so giddily in love with as a teenage girl. “I thought I saw you today from Dad’s boat. Wasn’t that you walking near the marina? I waved . . .”

“That was you on the boat?”

“Yep. That was me. You waved back so I thought . . .”

I laughed lightly. “I thought you were some teenaged boy your father had hired for the summer.”

Steven laughed too. “I am.”

“So what are you doing here?” we asked in unison.

“You first . . .” he said.

“I’m here for Dad. The woman who took care of the house passed away.”

“Eliana.”

“Yes.”

“The whole island mourned. She was a staple here, you know.”

“She was like another mother to me . . . though I admit I hadn’t seen or spoken to her in years.”

Steven blinked. “Why not?”

I dipped a shoulder. “I . . . it’s just been hard to be here since . . .”

“Your mom passed away?”

I turned back toward the sunset. The sun had gone to its nightly home, and the sky had become a brilliant shade of red. “This is really something, isn’t it?”

Steven bent a little at the waist for a better look at me, then straightened. “Tourists sometimes come out here to watch the sunset, then walk or drive away the minute it disappears. What they don’t know is that if they’d just wait about fifteen minutes, that’s when the sky really puts on a show.”

“I remember.” Oh how I remembered. More than the colors of the sky I remembered the firework displays inside my own head when, under the canopy of the emblazoned sky, Steven used to wrap me in his arms and kiss me until my knees buckled.

But of course I didn’t say that.

We were silent a moment until Steven spoke. “So, where’s your camera? I can’t remember a time I didn’t see you without one slung around your neck.”

I looked down at my feet and whispered a silent “thank you” to Heather that I’d gotten a pedicure. “I don’t take pictures anymore.”

More silence.

“How long are you here for?”

I looked back to the boy of my youth. The one who had taken one summer and turned it into an elusive dream . . . and my life into a nightmare. The boy turned man, who hardly deserved to know how his rejection had affected me. “Not long. I’m only here to find a replacement for Eliana.”

“I don’t think she’s replaceable,” he said with a smile, “but I’d venture a guess that if you went to see Rosa, she could help you.”

“Rosa. Why do you say that?”

“She owns a real estate office here . . . she’s Rosa Fuentes now.” He chuckled. “I guess she figures Cedar Key isn’t big but it’s persistent.” He dipped his head. “A lot like Rosa.”

I turned fully toward him again and crossed my arms. “Owns it? I was told she worked there.”

“Oh no. She owns it. Lock, stock, and barrel.”

“So you think she could help me find someone? Because if she could, that would be terrific.”

“She has a staff of women who clean some of the rental properties so I don’t see why not.” He pointed across the street with his thumb. “I’m renting one of her places until I can figure out what I’m doing.”

“You don’t live here?”

Even in the near-darkness I could see Steven pink. “Now I do. Until Dad either gets well or decides to sell the business. After that, I don’t know . . .”

“Your father is sick?”

“Had a massive heart attack last fall.”

“I’m sorry. I hadn’t heard.”

Steven raked his bottom lip with his teeth, made a hissing sound and then said, “So where do you live now?”

“Orlando still.”

“Married?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Why does it seem that is always the first question out of anyone’s mouth?” I looked back at my pitiful toes and tightened the hold I had on myself. “No. I’m not. I was, but I’m not now.”

“Me too.”

I looked back at him, my senses sharpened. “I heard you got married . . .”

Steven looked out across the water. “Long story. Too long.” Then, looking at me, he added, “But the good news is that I got one fantastic daughter out of it. Eliza. She’s in college now, can you believe it?”

College?
Mine were in middle school. “No, I can’t.”

“You? Do you have kids?”

“Two sons. Chase is fourteen and Cody is eleven.”

“Ah . . . the best is yet to come.”

“So I hear.”

“It will be the time you’ll wonder why you had them. Then, they’ll become adults and you’ll know.”

For that I had nothing to say and, apparently, neither did he. He shoved his hands into his pockets and said, “Hey, would you like to come over? Have a cup of coffee or something cold to drink? I don’t drink alcohol . . . but I have sodas . . . water . . .” He grinned.

I glanced toward where my car was parked. In the dusk, I could no longer make out my companion sitting there. “I have someone with me.”

Steven blew out a breath. “Oh.”

“No . . . not a man . . . I assume you mean a man . . . no. I have Patsy . . . uh. Goodness, I don’t even know her last name.”

“Patsy Milstrap? Older woman? Lives next to your dad’s house?”

Apparently people living in Cedar Key still knew everyone who lived in Cedar Key. “Yes.”

He grinned; I could almost see relief rush across his brow, and in spite of the years since we’d last kissed good-bye “until next time,” I couldn’t help but feel smug.

“Okay, then,” he said.

“Well.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around the island.”

“I don’t intend to be here long.”

We stared at each other, both blinking in silence.

“All right then,” he said.

“Good-bye, Steven.” I extended my hand.

His gripped mine easily, the palm torn between soft and callused. I wondered what he’d done before returning to his father’s boat. “It was good to see you again, Kimberly.”

My hand slipped from his. I shuffled past the man I’d once thought I couldn’t live without, the boy whose name I’d written all over the inside front cover of every composition book of my senior year of high school. The man-child who had broken my heart as it had never been crushed before.

Until Charlie.

Then, when I was halfway between Steven and Patsy, I heard him call out, “Boo!”

I turned. He was jogging toward me. When he came to a stop, he placed his hands on his hips and said, “Listen, I know this is kind of short notice, but . . . would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah. You know, we’ll go to a restaurant . . . sit down . . . eat? It won’t be McDonald’s on the mainland”—he winked—“but it’ll be good.”

“So you mean . . . like a date?”

Steven blinked, then widened his eyes. “Well, you don’t have to call it a date if you don’t want to.”

I pressed my hand against my chest, felt my heart hammering beneath. Traitor. “No, I mean . . . I just . . . it’s just . . .” Surely my smile looked foolish. I laughed in an effort to cover up the anxiety. “I haven’t been asked out on a date since I married Charlie.”

His brow furrowed. “Not even since the divorce?”

“No.”

“You’ve just divorced?”

I shook my head. “It’s been over a year.”

“Then Orlando is filled with fools.”

My cheeks grew warm. “Thank you for that. But the truth is, Orlando is filled with Charlie’s friends. None of them would dare ask me out. No one wants to cross Charlie Tucker.”

His face softened with compassion. “Charlie Tucker is a fool too.” He blinked. “I should know.”

I smiled. “Thank you for that too.”

“Tomorrow night then?”

I nodded. “That would be lovely.”

“I’ll pick you up at 7:00. We’ll eat then come back here to watch the sunset again.” He glanced toward the water. “It’s never the same twice, you know.”

“Yes,” I said. “I remember.”