Wait for the Rain

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Wait for the Rain Page 12

by Murnane, Maria


  “Shopping?” KC did not look thrilled. “What about our deal that was declared null and void?”

  “C’mon, tomboy, throw me a bone, okay? I promise it won’t be that bad. Plus, we’re going dancing tonight, remember? Maybe you can find something fun to wear. And I definitely want to see you in something girlie for Daphne’s birthday dinner. I’m thinking pink. And flowers. Maybe even a bow. Although I’m kidding about the bow.”

  KC ran her fingers over the bill of her baseball cap. “Can I wear this with a dress?”

  “Only if you want to be eating alone. Daphne, what say you? You up for a trip into town?”

  Daphne nodded. “Sounds good to me, although just to warn you, I may need to sit down on a bench at some point, or maybe lie down when we get back. My body is already rebelling from what I just put it through.” She put a hand on her lower back and grimaced.

  Skylar smiled and stood up. “Lying down is what the beach is for, my dear. Now let’s get a move on. The golden tan I don’t have is waiting for me to claim it.”

  Together they headed back toward the house, flip-flops in hand, their feet ankle deep in the clear water. The sun was hot but not unbearably so, a cool breeze dancing across the shore. There were a fair number of people sunbathing on the soft sand and frolicking in the gentle waves near the smoothie hut and neighboring area, but the farther they got from the hotels marking the center of town, the less crowded the beach became. For a stretch it was just the three of them, and they strolled in a brief yet comfortable silence. As she admired the quiet beauty surrounding them, Daphne thought about what had happened as they’d covered the same route after dinner, how she’d finally opened up—and the sky didn’t come crashing down.

  She glanced up at the handful of clouds swirling above them. Were they due for another rainstorm soon? I hope so.

  “Any word from Emma?” KC asked Daphne.

  “I got a text. Sounds like she’s having fun, although it makes me nervous that she’s in a different state without me.”

  “Try not to worry so much. She’s with her father, not a gang of convicted felons. It’s not like she’s going to get into any trouble,” KC said.

  “I know, but still, it’s hard. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, when it comes to Emma, I’m kind of a worrier.”

  “I can’t believe you have a teenage daughter,” Skylar said. “Did you freak when she got her period?”

  Daphne coughed out a laugh. “You have no idea. I’m still a little traumatized.”

  KC gestured toward the ocean. “Remember how traumatic going swimming used to be before we started using tampons?”

  “I’ve never used anything but tampons,” Skylar said.

  KC looked at her. “Even in the beginning? In the beginning I was way too scared to try them.”

  Skylar shook her head. “I have older sisters, remember? From day one they refused to let me use a pad, said it was like straddling a surfboard.”

  Daphne laughed. “That’s a pretty accurate description. A little too graphic for my taste, but accurate.”

  “My sisters don’t sugarcoat things,” Skylar said. “Hard as it may be to imagine, I’m the soft one in my family.”

  “Hey, check it out.” KC pointed down the beach to what appeared to be a game of touch football.

  The trio came to a stop about thirty feet away from the action, which looked a little rowdy and not all that organized, yet quite fun. A pair of wireless speakers set on a beach towel played reggae music, providing a tropical, low-key backdrop that belied the very American competition playing out on the sand.

  “Babe alert,” Skylar said under her breath.

  “Which one?” KC asked.

  “Take your pick,” Skylar said with a little whistle.

  Daphne scanned the group. Of at least a dozen men running here and there, none caught her eye until she spotted a familiar face.

  It belonged to Clay Hanson.

  She immediately smoothed a hand over her ponytail and found herself wishing she didn’t feel quite so . . . frumpy. Skylar was wearing a pretty green sundress and looked as put-together as ever, but she and KC were still in their sweaty workout gear. She knew it was silly to care about her appearance, but she did.

  Sure, Clay was a few years younger than she was, but there was just something about him that made her want to look . . . attractive. Or at least more attractive than she felt right then.

  She glanced at the tote bag she was carrying. It contained sunscreen, two bottles of water, her wallet, a visor, a pair of sunglasses, and a beach towel. As always, she’d brought an assortment of practical items with her, mom items that were of absolutely zero use to her right now. No lip gloss or blusher, not even a hairbrush.

  “Now that guy’s hot,” Skylar said in a hushed voice.

  Daphne looked up from her bag and wondered which one Skylar was talking about. Her eyes surveyed the section of beach the group had carved out as their playing field. A dozen or so shirtless men running across it, barefoot on the sand, most of them appearing to be in pretty good—if not extremely good—shape. Only a couple of them had any trace of a beer belly, and just one of them appeared to be losing his hair. She wondered which ones were married, or if any of them had children. By the time Daphne was in her late twenties, she had a daughter in school, but she knew that wasn’t typical.

  The guys were playing seven on seven, all of them horsing around and clearly having a ball, acting like overgrown versions of the kids they weren’t anymore. They were using a bright green Nerf ball, the likes of which Daphne hadn’t seen in years, and which brought back a few childhood memories of her own. During her elementary school years, flag football with a Nerf ball had been a popular lunchtime activity, right up there with Red Rover, dodgeball, jump rope, and marbles. She’d never been very good at flag football or dodgeball, but she’d dominated at marbles.

  “If they were playing volleyball, I’d swear we’d died and gone to heaven,” Skylar said.

  “Good call,” KC said.

  Daphne snapped back to the present. “Are you referring to that scene in Top Gun?”

  Skylar smiled and pushed her sunglasses on top of her head. “You bet I am.”

  “Best scene ever,” KC said.

  “There’s a surfeit of toned skin out here, I’ll give you that,” Daphne said.

  KC looked at her sideways. “Does that have anything to do with surfing?”

  Daphne laughed. “Just means there are a lot of fit bodies in front of us.”

  “Should we go around them?” KC pointed to the water, then looped her finger up toward the houses. “I’d hate to interrupt their game.”

  Skylar put a hand out to stop KC. “What’s the rush? I say we stay and enjoy the view for a while.”

  KC laughed. “Okay then, stay and enjoy the view it is.”

  “I’m not opposed to that,” Daphne said with a slight smile. What’s the harm in looking?

  “Nor should you be opposed to it,” Skylar said. “Let’s get a little closer.”

  The three of them inched their way toward the group, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. Once they were in earshot of what the players were saying, it became apparent that the chatter had much more to do with heckling than discussing the score or rules of the game.

  “Come on now, Bates! My grandmother could have caught that!”

  “I’m sorry, Wilson, did you say something? I can’t hear such a high-pitched voice.”

  “Eric, dude, could you be any slower? You’re like a dial-up Internet connection for chrissake.”

  KC grinned and put her hands on her hips. “These guys are awesome. They remind me of my brothers. Josh and Jared would fit right in too.”

  “Awesome and cute. I like the quarterback. I wonder what his story is.” Skylar gestured to a tall, dark-haired guy in hunter-green board sh
orts. From that distance Daphne couldn’t tell if he was wearing a wedding ring. Then again, given what she’d recently learned from Skylar about married men, that probably didn’t mean much.

  “They could pass for a boy band shooting a video, although it would be a pretty large band,” KC said. Then she looked around the surrounding beach area. “I wonder why they’re all here? I don’t see any significant others cheering them on.”

  “Bachelor party,” Daphne said.

  Skylar and KC both looked at her.

  “Is that a guess?” Skylar asked. “Or do you know something we don’t?”

  Daphne pointed at Clay, then up toward the deck. “I met the tall guy in the blue shorts yesterday when I was taking a walk on the beach. A bunch of them are staying in that house.”

  Skylar checked it out. “Nice place. I wonder which one is getting married?”

  “I have no idea. Clay’s the only one I met. He was on the deck by himself.”

  Skylar turned to watch the game again. “I hope it’s not the quarterback.”

  “We could always just ask them,” KC said.

  Daphne felt her cheeks turn red. “Oh, I don’t think we should.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because they’re so much, you know, younger than we are,” Daphne said.

  “So? Who cares?” KC looked puzzled.

  Skylar put a hand on KC’s shoulder. “I think what she’s trying to say is that if we approach a big group of younger guys and ask them which one of them is getting married, it will make us look like cougars.”

  “Like what?” KC looked even more confused now.

  “Cougars.” Skylar made a clawing motion with her fingernails. “You know, older women who prey on younger men.”

  KC opened her eyes wide. “That’s really a word?”

  “Where have you been?” Skylar asked. “That’s been a word for years.”

  KC frowned. “Well, it doesn’t sound very nice.”

  Daphne nodded. “I agree. I don’t like that term. I think it’s disrespectful to women.”

  “I’m not particularly fond of it either, but I didn’t make it up,” Skylar said with a shrug.

  “You date younger men,” KC said to Skylar. “So you’re a cougar?”

  Skylar shook her head. “I date them, but only if they approach me. Big difference, at least in my opinion.”

  “Is there a term for men who date younger women?” KC asked.

  Skylar laughed and put her hand on top of KC’s head. “Yes, my tiny friend. It’s usually called rich.”

  KC pushed Skylar’s hand away, but she was laughing. “Hey now, I think my husband would take offense to that.”

  Skylar laughed too. “Then don’t tell him.”

  Now Daphne was also laughing. She glanced up at the sky. It feels so good to laugh like this.

  Just then a stray football came flying their way. KC bent down to pick it up, then effortlessly tossed it back to the group in a perfect spiral.

  “Wow,” yelled the blond guy who caught it. “Nice arm.” He looked genuinely impressed.

  KC smiled and adjusted her baseball cap. “Thanks! I played a little as a kid!” she yelled back.

  Skylar chuckled. “Of course you did.”

  The majority of the players were now looking at Daphne and her friends from afar, Clay included. He clapped some sand off his hands and waved. “Hey, Daphne White, good to see you again!” he yelled.

  She waved back and forced herself to yell loud enough for him to hear her, although she could feel her cheeks burning at the attention. “Hi, Clay Hanson!”

  “You and he are on first- and last-name basis?” Skylar said. “Well done, Daphne White.”

  “Please behave,” Daphne whispered back to her.

  Skylar slipped her sunglasses back over her eyes. “Clay Handsome, is it?”

  “Clay Hanson,” Daphne said, still in a whisper. “And please keep your voice down.”

  Skylar smiled without looking at her. “You call him whatever you like, and I’ll do the same. All I’m saying is that he’s quite the eye candy, and it’s been a long time since you’ve visited the candy store.”

  KC rubbed her hands together and grinned. “Can I just say I’m loving hanging out with you two again?”

  “Halftime!” someone called out, and the game quickly broke up as nearly everyone headed up to the deck, where a large red cooler filled with ice-cold bottles of water—and beers—awaited.

  Two players stayed behind. One was the blond who had caught KC’s throw. The other was Clay. They chatted with each other for a moment, then turned and began walking toward Daphne, Skylar, and KC. When Daphne realized what they were doing, she swallowed and hoped her friends wouldn’t say anything to embarrass her. He’s coming over here!

  As if reading her mind, Skylar patted Daphne’s arm. “Don’t worry,” she said under her breath.

  “Thank you,” Daphne said, her voice hushed.

  “Great game,” Skylar said in a normal decibel as Clay and the blond approached.

  “Thanks,” Clay said with an easy smile. Then he looked at Daphne but pointed the Nerf ball at KC as he spoke again. “I gotta say, your friend here could show you a thing or two about throwing.”

  “Both my friends here could show me a thing or two about a lot of things,” Daphne said with a smile of her own, one that didn’t feel as forced as she feared it would be. “This is KC, and this is Skylar.”

  “Clay Hanson.” He shook both their hands, then gestured to his pal. “This is Doug Bates.”

  “Ah, Bates, the one who runs slower than a grandmother,” KC said with a slow nod.

  Doug pretended to stab himself in the heart. “Coming from someone with an arm like yours, that hurts.”

  Skylar narrowed her eyes at Clay, but not in an unfriendly way. “Do you always speak to people using first and last names?”

  Clay laughed and scratched the top of his head. “Sorry, force of habit. I meet a lot of people through work.”

  “What do you do?” Skylar asked.

  “I’m in finance. Nothing too exciting. Doug here’s the one with the cool job.” He patted his friend on the shoulder.

  “Oh yeah? What would that be?” Skylar looked at Doug.

  “I’m the host of a sports talk radio show.”

  KC’s face lit up. “Did you just say sports talk radio? I love sports talk radio!”

  “Doesn’t he have the perfect face for radio?” Clay said.

  “Shut it, pretty boy,” Doug said, punching Clay’s arm.

  “That’s my husband’s dream job,” KC said.

  Clay punched Doug’s arm back. “It’s pretty much every guy’s dream job. Lucky bastard.”

  “What can I say? Someone has to do it. So what brings you three to St. Mirika?” Doug asked them.

  “Just a girls’ reunion,” Skylar said. “What about you?”

  Daphne glanced at Skylar, amazed at how she was able to pose the question without giving any indication that she already knew the answer.

  “Bachelor party.” Doug turned toward the deck and pointed at a sandy-blond-haired man standing next to the quarterback Skylar had been eyeing. “That’s the betrothed over there.”

  “Which one?” Skylar asked casually.

  She’s so smooth, Daphne thought. No wonder she was so good at her job.

  “See Scott, the tall, dark-haired guy who was playing quarterback? It’s the one standing next to him. His name’s Perry,” Doug said.

  “Perry? That’s fancy,” Skylar said. With the guys’ backs briefly turned to them, she discreetly gave Daphne’s arm a little squeeze, then leaned toward her and whispered. “I’m calling him Hot Scott.”

  Daphne smiled. For now at least, the quarterback was still in the game. This is fun.

 
Clay turned around. “It’s a family name. We rib him about it all the time.” Then he gestured toward their makeshift football field. So you three want to join us for the second half? We could use some fresh legs out there.”

  “Fresh legs?” Skylar gave him a skeptical look. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but from what I saw, it didn’t look like anyone was running all that hard.”

  “They were running harder than you were,” Daphne said to her.

  “I’ll take that,” Skylar said with a shrug.

  Doug laughed. “Wanting fresh legs is code for some of the guys want to stop playing and start drinking.”

  “I think ‘some’ is probably an understatement,” Clay said.

  “They want to start drinking already? But it’s not even lunchtime.” KC looked a little horrified.

  Skylar patted her shoulder. “We’re on island time, Missy Franklin. Relax. No one here’s training for the Olympics.”

  “So what do you say?” Clay asked KC. “We all saw that arm, so you can’t pretend you don’t know how to play.”

  KC grinned and raised her hand. “Okay, I’m in! Can I play quarterback?”

  Doug snatched the Nerf ball from Clay, kneeled down, and handed it to her. “You took the words right out of my mouth—well, not exactly—but you know what I mean. It would be an honor.” Then he looked up at Skylar and Daphne. “What about you two? Up for a scrimmage?”

  Daphne swallowed. She was decently coordinated but hadn’t played touch football since . . . how long had it been . . . elementary school? “Um . . .”

  “Come on, Daphne,” Clay said. “It will be fun. You can be on my team.”

  “Go ahead.” Skylar gave her a nudge. “I’ll watch. That will keep the numbers even.”

  KC pinched Skylar’s waist. “Way to weasel out of it.”

  Skylar laughed. “I’m just being helpful. No one likes to play with odd numbers, and besides, I’m not dressed for it. Now go, scat.” She gave Daphne another push.

  “Okay, why not?” Daphne smiled weakly. I hope I don’t regret this. She was proud of herself for trying something new—while simultaneously terrified that she’d make a fool of herself.

 

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