The Key to Paradise (8 page)

“You might be right about needing to eat more but right now my margarita is doing a hell of a job quenching my thirst. I don’t need any water.”

“You worked hard today in ninety degree heat with eighty percent humidity and no air conditioning. You need water.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I answered sarcastically taking my glass from Linda. The minute the liquid hit my tongue I could feel the refreshing coolness run through me. I ignored Landon’s triumphant smile as I emptied half of it in one go. Alright, so maybe I should put aside my pride a little. The man knew what he was talking about when it came to manual labor. I just wish all of his advice didn’t come with a smug smile emblazoned across his handsome face.

“We got a lot of great work done today.” Nana said hefting her overflowing glass in the air. “Liv, I am so proud of you. To Liv and The Sea Watch!” We clinked our glasses together and I let go of my prickly mood determined to enjoy the evening. It was another balmy summer night but the ceiling fans kept the air moving enough to make the dock comfortable. A singer with a guitar was picking through some old country songs and the margaritas were tart. I could really get used to this laidback lifestyle; as slow as molasses and just as sweet.

The girls gossiped happily about their friends while Landon and I sat in an almost comfortable silence looking out across the marina at the twinkling lights of the moored boats.

“Do you want to see something cool?” He asked me sounding for all the world like an excited boy despite his deep voice. It was such an unusual request and so abruptly given that I couldn’t say no.

What the hell,
I thought.
I promised myself I was going to make peace.
I nodded and he grabbed my hand helping me to my feet. “We’ll be right back.” He told the girls as he grabbed the basket that had held the coconut shrimp—now just crumbs and tails—and led me down a rickety set of stairs to the docks themselves.

Down here, the loud music and laughter of Joe’s was muted. I could hear the gentle swell of water as it lapped against the fiberglass hulls.

“Do you want to tell me where we’re going?”

“No, I want to show you.” I had never seen this side of Landon before, excited and happy. It was like a switch had been flipped. Before was sullen silence and catty comments, then a guarded truce. He seemed like he was making an effort to put our past behind us too and I was relieved. We walked along the wooden boardwalk while a few crabs scuttled out of our way and back into their holes. “It’s down here at the end of the dock.”

“And it requires bread crumbs?”

“Yes.” It was clear I wasn’t going to get any more information out of him so I followed in silence enjoying the serene calm of the evening. As we got closer to where the dock ended in the blackness of the water I could see a faint greenish glow illuminating a fish cleaning station and a few pilings tilting like Verna after four margaritas. I peered at the light trying to figure out where it was coming from.

“These used to be all over the docks but most of them have burnt out or shorted. This is the only one left.” Landon nudged me towards the edge of the walkway and I looked down in the water startled to see a single bulb glowing fiercely through the water almost five feet deep. All around it a group of fish had gathered drawn by the inexplicable presence of light.

“They’re huge.” I said unable to close my mouth as I watched the sleek silver shapes glided in restless circles around the glow of the bulb. Some were long and thin, others shaped like footballs. I realized I knew absolutely nothing about fish if it wasn’t breaded or fried. “What are they?”

“Those are tarpon.” He said pointing to the huge ones lurking on the periphery with frowning old man faces. They were shaped like missiles each easily over four feet long. “These are jacks.” A small school of the football shaped fish winged around the light moving with an eerie speed. “The ones with the smooshed looking faces are look-downs.” A few stragglers as narrow as a knife’s edge with long angled faces flashed sideways to look up at me.

“They’re beautiful.” The fish cut easily through the water moving with a liquid grace as they huddled close to us hoping for a handout. It was like getting a glance into a hidden world you never knew existed right under your feet. Sure, objectively I knew there were fish in the ocean. I spent the past few years in Boston where fishing was a crucial part of life for so many people. But to see them like this through the crystal clear water was something else entirely. I could have sat for hours and watched them turn in lazy circles around the green glow of the light.

“Look,” Landon said pointing. “Here comes some parrotfish.” A small group of fish as brightly colored as any bird cut through their faster moving cousins and took their place beneath us. “Give them some crumbs.”

I dribbled a few in the water unprepared for the pandemonium that followed. All the easy grace was shattered in a feeding frenzy. The jacks darted, the parrotfish grabbed and the tarpon closed ranks circling closer to the bread crumbs. I jumped back laughing when a particularly acrobatic jack splashed me as he desperately chased a piece of shrimp.

“They act like they haven’t been fed in days.”

“Don’t believe their lies.” Landon said tossing a few of the bigger pieces out to the hulking tarpon. “They hang out here for the offal when the fisherman clean their catches. They’re dock puppies. They eat better than any fish in the open ocean.”

“I had no idea they were down here.”

“Wait until you see a reef. The Keys are more than these little spits of islands. Most of the real Keys is under the water.”

“It’s so different from what I’m used to: being able to look down in the water and see the bottom, to see all the life. When I would go to the beach up north I couldn’t see my feet if I was in past my shins.”

Landon laughed, it was deep and rumbling. A real laugh, the first one I think I had ever heard from him.

“Now that would creep me out or maybe I just saw
Jaws
too many times as a kid. If there’s a shark in the water I like to be able to see him coming.”

“You have a lot of sharks down here?” As much as I liked the fish the idea of a shadowy shark prowling the waters was another thing entirely.

“Sure, they mostly leave you alone as long as you aren’t bothering them. I never go spear fishing though. Tying a bag of dead, bleeding fish to my hip just seemed like tempting fate.”

“I’d imagine so.”

“Last lobster season my buddy, Jack, was going after a big lobster who’d backed himself into a hole. When Jack finally got him out he turned around and realized his bag full of lobsters was gone. He swam around for ten minutes looking for it and finally found a five foot nurse shark ripping it open to get inside.”

“What’d he do?”

“Let him have it of course! He was sorry to put in all the work for a free buffet for the shark but let’s be honest he wasn’t going to play tug of war with him over it.”

I shuddered at the thought. Crocodiles, sharks and mosquitos larger than B-52 bombers; it was hard to believe I was still in the United States. Everything about this place seemed beautifully alien. I hoped that no matter how accustomed to it I got, it still wouldn’t lose its wonder.

“There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What’s that?” For a half a moment my heart started fluttering erratically in my chest and I wondered if this was what prompted the change in Landon.

“Well, I’ve—reluctantly—made peace with the idea that you’ll be reopening The Sea Watch.” He shot me a small sideways smile. Where normally my defenses would coming clanking shut, this time I could handle his light teasing with that smile. “So I’ve been doing a lot of research on resorts. It turns out, one of the big things now is called eco-tourism. Now, I’m not suggesting anything dramatic like a bunch of hippies running through The Sea Watch...”

I had to laugh at the image. “Landon, sometimes you remind me how off the grid Tamarind Key is. I don’t think hippies have been a concern since long before we were even born. The ‘80s took out the last remaining hold outs.” A small blush rose on Landon’s cheeks and I actually found it endearing. “But please, tell me more. This sounds interesting.” This fragile peace had landed like a butterfly in my palm and I wasn’t going to be the one to carelessly close my fingers and crush it.

“I thought that if you were interested, I could help you set something up. We could start small with snorkel tours that highlight the importance of the reef. Maybe kayak tours through the mangroves to teach people how to pack out their litter instead of just chucking it.”

I rolled the idea around in my mind. All this time I had been picturing a laid back and relaxing resort where the biggest decision you had to make was whether to have a margarita or a piña colada. But wasn’t that limiting? Sure people loved to relax on vacation but they also wanted to explore their surroundings too. Tamarind Key certainly didn’t have much in the way of culture or night life but the natural beauty was abundant. I had to admit that a small part of me had been afraid of Landon’s dire pronouncements that I was bringing commercialized doom to the unspoiled beauty of the island. This might be the perfect way to soothe that little niggling guilt.

“I think that sounds like a great idea. We’ll have to look into the details about licensing, insurance, waivers, all the business stuff.”

“It’s amazing how a little change in perspective can make a big difference.” He said smiling.

“It’s a really good idea, Landon. I would have gone for it without your little fishy minions. Maybe I’m not the devil you think I am.” I nudged him softly with my shoulder.

“Well, we should head back.” Landon said dumping the rest of the crumbs to the delight of the growing swarm of fish flashing silver in the starlight. “If we stay too long the Metamucil Mafia is going to run your bar tab up into the low thousands.”

“Thanks for showing me this, Landon. It was amazing.” We walked together back to the bar in an awkward silence. I could feel the tension and animosity between us easing but in its place was an uncomfortable emptiness. Without the sniping, what would our relationship be? It was a problem I didn’t need on my plate but a sweet problem none the less.

Chapter Eleven

Olivia

The days seemed to bleed together in a haze of agonizing soreness and exhaustion so bone deep my brain stopped functioning for days at a time. By the third week Nana found me repainting a wall for the fourth time and demanded I take a break.

“If you don’t take a break it’s going to take three times as long to get everything done. You’re no use to anyone like this. You’re doing work that’s already done over again because you can’t get it together.” She pushed me out the front door into the parking lot. “Go home. Go to sleep. Tomorrow take the day off. If I see you here tomorrow you’ll be grounded for even longer.”

Part of me wanted to argue but I was too tired to even do that. Instead, I climbed into my car, somehow resisted the urge to fall asleep on the steering wheel, and made my way back to Nana’s house. I didn’t take time to shower or even undress. The best I could manage was to toe off my shoes and collapse into a whimpering lump on top of my comforter.

When I managed to unpeel my eyes hours later the sun had set and the house was dark and quiet. Tonight was Nana’s bingo night and I was going to take advantage. I had an unopened box of Captain Crunch cereal and hours of trashy TV to catch up on. I sat down with my first heaping bowl and flipped on my computer out of habit.

I had been so consumed with The Sea Watch that I’d been horribly remiss about keeping in contact with everyone. I fired off a quick email to my mother letting her know I was still alive and updating her on the progress we had been making. With that done I flicked on the TV and went for the cheesiest reality show I could find. I needed something utterly brainless. In my exhaustion I feared I’d reverted back into a toddler easily amused by bright colors and funny sounds.

As the housewives settled in to their third pinot grigio flinging fight of the evening I decided to uncork my own bottle in solidarity. By my fourth glass I was feeling no pain. I wish things had stayed that way.

During a commercial break my eyes wandered over to the computer and saw the flashing ‘53’ above my emails. I really should go through that and delete all the spam, I thought to myself completely oblivious of what was lurking inside my inbox. It started easily enough: a few emails advertising sales at stores I used to frequent, some Nigerian princes looking for help, apparently I had also won a lottery in Hong Kong and all they needed was my bank account number to forward the money. One by one I deleted them and then there it was staring me in the face: Chris’ email address. I took a deep, steadying breath and double clicked on the envelope icon.

Livvie,

I guess by now I should just take the hint and get it through my thick skull that you want nothing to do with me. I can’t blame you after everything that happened. I’m just having such a hard time adjusting to not having you in my life at all.

I got the job at McKellen and Shane just like we had always talked about. It was so strange coming home that first day to an empty apartment. I couldn’t help but think about what would have happened if I hadn’t screwed everything up royally. I would have taken you out to dinner at Sorbert’s, you’d order the eggplant lasagna you had to have every time we went there. I’d buy us an expensive bottle of wine to celebrate and you’d look at me with those beautiful, brown eyes while I told you all about my first day. Instead I came home to an empty apartment and ate reheated pizza while watching reruns.

I’m not saying this to make you feel sorry for me. I know I don’t even deserve to be a passing thought in your mind. I just wanted to tell you that I know you were the best thing that has ever happened to me and I’m a complete fool for losing you. I can’t even give you any closure as to why I did it. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was selfishness. In any case, it was unforgiveable.

I hope where ever you are you’re happy. For the first few months I kept my eyes peeled every time I walked down a street hoping to see those crazy black curls above the crowd but it never happened. I don’t even know if you’re still in the area.

Please Livvie, let me know you’re alright. You’re always in my thoughts.

I blinked back tears as I reread the last lines compulsively.
Good, I hope he’s miserable,
the nasty part of me thought but I pushed her down. My feelings about Chris were a complicated snarl that I couldn’t even begin to unravel. There was the terrible aching hole of that night I had found him cheating but before that were years of happiness and joy. I realized for the first time that I didn’t really hate Chris and then I knew what I had to do. I opened up a new email and started typing.

Chris,

I am happy. I moved down to the Florida Keys and am opening a resort down here. I’ve finally decided to do something just for myself and it’s wonderful.

I hope you’re happy and well but please don’t contact me again. It’s too hard after everything that’s happened.

I quickly hit send and then blocked his email address before I lost my nerve. In a matter of five minutes the peace of the evening had been shattered. I felt jangled and at loose ends, a bundle of nervous energy as the adrenaline from the shock of seeing his email worked its way through my system. I tried to go back to sleep but I ended up tossing and turning through the night, only managing to drop off when the first rays of the rising sun came piercing through my blinds.

I rolled out of bed at noon feeling sour and cranky. I needed to do something other than sit alone with my thoughts. Even Nana’s threats weren’t enough to keep me at home. I knew if I stayed here I would just sit and reread Chris’ email endlessly. Determined, I pulled on some clothes and headed down to The Sea Watch.

“Olivia Jane…” Nana’s voice was a warning and a rebuke.

“I couldn’t stay at home, Nan. I really tried but I got an email from Chris and…”

She sighed; her sternest look softened only slightly. “You’re not working today.” When I tried to argue she held up her hand. “I understand you need to do something but it’s not going to be work. Go get a tan, go fishing, drive over to Big Pine and see a movie.”

I tried to cross my arms and look intimidating but that never seemed to work with Nana. Today was no different. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Landon step into the lobby watching out confrontation with amusement.

“Landon, I have a job for you.”

“Anything, Joan.”

“Take my granddaughter and make her do something other than work. You’ve both been pushing too hard. Take her snorkeling.”

I didn’t like the idea of being pushed off on someone else to entertain. I opened my mouth to protest but Landon’s hand closed over my shoulder. “We better do what she says. I don’t like that look,” he stage whispered into my ear shocking me into a laugh and forcing Nana to smile. Without another word he steered me out the front door and back into the sun.

“I don’t have a bathing suit.” I said as we start walking down the beach towards his house.

“What about that hot little floral number you were wearing before?”

“I’m trying very hard not to hit you right now. I’d advise you to tread carefully.”

“Alright, alright.” Landon said throwing up his hands in mock surrender. “I have some surf shirts and board shorts you can borrow.”

“That sounds good but I think my shoulders are a little bit broader than yours. I don’t want to stretch them out.”

Landon laughed. “I’m sorry I don’t have a collection of women’s bathing suits for your approval. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

I really needed to go buy a couple of suits. I was getting very tired of being a beggar; a point that was driven home when I came out of Landon’s bathroom in a surf shirt that made me look like a little kid playing dress up and board shorts whose waist ties were pulled as tight as they could go.

“I’m not saying it’s the most flattering outfit but I think we can both agree it’s a step up from last time.” Landon said looking much more flattered in his own chest hugging shirt and shorts that hung tantalizingly from his hips.

“I’ve made peace with the fact that I always end up looking like a fool in front of you.”

Landon grabbed a dive bag and walked me down to the water. Beyond the turquoise blue of the beach were darker patches of water where the sea grass colored in an emerald green.

“We can’t get to the reefs without a boat but there’s usually a couple fish hanging around the sea grass. Have you ever snorkeled before?”

“Once on spring break in Cancun. I had five rum runners beforehand and don’t remember much about it. Only that I was lucky not to puke in the snorkel.”

“Here, try this mask on and see if it fits.” Landon placed the goggles up against my face leaving the strap hanging loose. “Suck in with your nose.” I did and instantly felt the molded plastic suction onto my skin. “Now try to pull it off.” I had to give the mask a solid tug before the suction broke and the mask peeled away.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that one won’t leak on you. There’s nothing more annoying when snorkeling than having a slow dribble of water leaking into your eyes.”

He attached a snorkel to the clip on the mask and made me try on a pair of flippers, carefully adjusting the strap in the back until it fit my considerably smaller feet.

“How do I look?” I asked. My voice sounded abnormally nasal through the mask.

“Just perfect.” Landon said a smile breaking on the corners of his mouth. “Excuse me for a moment?” Quickly he turned away and I watched his shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“You’re an ass.” I said but the impact of my cutting retort was somewhat lessened by my ridiculously nasal voice.

“Ok, ok.” He said turning back and wiping away a tear. “Take your flippers off.”

“Why? I just got them on.”

“That was just to adjust the straps. Try taking a few steps.” Immediately I saw the problem. I lifted one foot as high as I could still barely clearing the top of the sand. If I wanted to wear the flippers in I was going to have to waddle backwards. “Just take them off and carry them. We’ll put them back on when it’s deep enough to swim.”

I followed him out into the waves enjoying the cooling feeling of the water lapping against my legs. A small school of silvery fish circled around my ankles and just as quickly darted away when I moved. We moved in until the water was just above my waist and then strapped on our fins. Landon lowered his mask and I did the same leaning forward in the water until I was floating horizontally.

I started to stroke normally but the flippers that had been so ungainly on land flicked through the water easily and propelled me forward with an unexpected speed. Ahead of me Landon was kicking with the smallest movement at his knees and his arms were down at his sides. I followed his example and soon found my groove gliding through the water and feeling as slick and skilled as any fish.

Beneath me the bottom was beautiful sand kicked up in curvy ridges by the ceaselessly moving water. I saw a small hermit crab picking his way along and resisted the urge to wave as I passed over him as a sleek, fast shadow. Ahead I could see the darker patches where the sea grass began. Landon steered towards them easily with a small shift of his body. I mimicked him and made my own slightly more awkward turn.

We passed over the bed of sea grass, its long snaking tendrils waving lazily in the shifting current. Silvery fish darted in and out among the swaying blades hunting for a meal or trying to avoid becoming someone else’s. Landon pointed silently to a few of the more colorful fish, his movements easy and languid underwater. He was completely at home here.

For me, this was a thrilling new world. One only previously half glimpsed between gulps of air. Now I was floating below the water’s surface breathing calmly and easily, almost a part of it. My ears were filled with the sounds of the water bubbling and rushing past me. My eyes raked across the bottom eager for every new sight through the clear lenses. There was no stress, no Chris, no problems in this weightless underwater paradise.

A small parrotfish in shimmering blues and greens glided by, flicking onto his side once to regard me with a tiny round eye before darting between the blades of grass. I followed him through the bed quickly getting the hang of things: turning when he turned, slowing when he slowed. I watched him go about his daily life so alien and foreign to me. He nipped here and there at the sea grass, bullied a smaller fish away, and snuggled down into cover when a larger fish passed overhead.