Ten Good Reasons

by Lauren Christopher

  Slip ninety-two was empty.

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-eight

  The park overlooking Sandy Cove Beach was filled with wedding guests, who mingled with cups of punch under the cool July breeze.

  Lia made her way between them, greeting the ones she knew, fluffing her full blue skirt out of the way when the wind blew too hard. She tried to cover her mismatched shoes so no one would see. Noelle, Giselle, and her mother were all irritated at her for losing the blue stilettos with the sparkly hardware. It was the one pair they had all fallen in love with. Noelle and all the other bridesmaids had ordered the same ones, based on Lia’s recommendation, but then Lia lost hers and couldn’t find the same pair in her size. Well, she didn’t lose them, exactly. She lost one. And she knew where it was. It was on Evan’s boat, probably somewhere past New Zealand by now. To keep everyone from being frustrated at her, she simply bought the shoes in a size too small and wore one small one for pictures. Every time she thought about those stilettos, and the way he’d seduced her that night with them still on, her bones felt like they were melting.

  She let out a deep sigh.

  Remembering Evan made her sad. It had been five months he’d been gone now, without a word, and she had to simply keep shoving the thoughts aside. She’d made a terrible mistake, not speaking up when she should have and not telling Evan how she really felt. And not realizing earlier on that people were important, not the ridiculous concept of “success” she had had. She wished she could do it all over again. Drew and Cora were right: You had to give your whole heart fearlessly, or you wouldn’t really know true love. You had to jump into the abyss.

  And she’d been a coward.

  She’d tried to find out from Drew if Evan had sailed north to see their parents. Drew called his mom and dad to ask several times, but they’d said no. He told Lia that Evan had also considered traveling south and starting his circumference again from Panama. Either way, she had no idea if she’d ever see him again. She supposed she could wait another two years, to see if he’d land in Sandy Cove again, but Drew always looked suspicious when she brought Evan up, so she might not really know if and when that happened. Would Drew even tell her?

  She had quit her job with Elle. That felt good. Elle just wouldn’t budge about the time off, so Lia finally garnered the nerve to quit and start her own marketing business. Her friends really rallied around her and insisted on paying her for all her work from that point on: Mr. Brimmer on Main Street, Vivi, Fin paid for Rabbit’s surf camp, Xavier’s boss even asked for some work. Drew came through best—Kyle had invested in his boat, and Drew was suddenly rolling in dough. He paid her probably twice what she was worth to do half as much, but he said she was worth it. Even Sharon agreed.

  And Kyle—although he stayed loyal to Elle—pitched Lia’s services all over, and got her another four huge accounts, two from people who had been on the charter during the disentanglement. They felt like they’d all gone through something important together with Valentine’s baby—Lia included—and treated her more like a war buddy than a PR person.

  Lia sighed. The work was all good. And she loved spending more time with her family and friends. But she could never shake the feeling that she let the man who could have been the love of her life slip away into the night ocean. She often lay in bed at night, trying to think of ten good reasons she needed to forget about him now—ten good reasons to just let his memory slip away. She could only ever come up with three.

  Her shoes kept getting caught in the grass as she made an attempt to circulate among Fin and Giselle’s guests. She finally spotted a patch of cement and leaped onto it with the comfortable foot in the right-sized shoe. The cement led her away from the guests, but right now it felt like a nice respite. She hobbled along the meandering path to enjoy the view.

  Sandy Cove sprawled out like a jewel beneath her. She took a sip of her punch and took in the whole area—the marina was especially pretty from here. She glanced at the rows of boats that looked like little toys from this height and couldn’t help but think of Evan again. Since he wasn’t one for social media—or even a cell phone, for that matter—she had no idea. She wondered if he’d ever send a postcard, even. She wondered if she’d hurt him too much.

  “Hey.”

  She turned to see Drew. He had the casts off but was still using a small cane he hated for balance. He’d managed to lacquer it in black so it would blend in with his tuxedo while he stood up for Fin with Rabbit and the other groomsmen.

  “What are you doing here on the outskirts?” he asked. “You’re usually the center of attention. Which would be over there.” He motioned with the cane.

  “I just needed a minute, I guess.”

  Drew nodded and they both stared at the Sandy Cove marina. The sun cast glittering diamonds over the waves as they rolled in gently below.

  “You really miss him, huh?” he asked.

  Lia was first startled that Drew read her dreamy gazing so easily. But then she knew she shouldn’t be. He knew her well. “Yes.”

  The waves crashed below, and they watched them quietly for a minute.

  “He’s a good man, Drew,” she finally said.

  Drew didn’t answer right away, studying his shoes. “Renece thought so, too.”

  “He told me about all that.”

  “About what a jerk I was?”

  “He didn’t word it that way.”

  “Then he is a good man.”

  The waves crashed a few more times.

  “Did he tell you more than that?” Drew asked.

  “There was more?”

  “There was the part about you.”

  “The part about me?”

  Drew nodded. “That the whole story about Evan and me and Renece was becoming the same story about Evan and me and you.”

  “What are you talking about? You don’t have feelings for m—” She froze and turned slowly. Several memories flashed past. Drew kissing her that one time. Evan asking so often if she and Drew were in a relationship. The way Drew scowled the night he found them together.

  “Do you have feelings for me, Drew?” She whispered the question because she could hardly form it into solid words.

  “Don’t worry—it’s a thing of the past.” He gave a weak smile. “I’m crazy about Sharon. But I did, yes. And when Evan came swooping in here, I guess it just riled everything up—my old feelings about Renece, my old feelings about you, how much I felt he betrayed me, how much I felt he disregarded me. . . .”

  “He doesn’t disregard you.”

  “I know that now. We got some things worked out. But I still asked him not to use you, or hurt you. I just couldn’t bear that. It would have meant more disregard for me. And certainly pain for you that you didn’t need. And then, when I saw your face on the charter that night . . . I thought he had. Disregarded both of us.”

  “No! He wasn’t hurting me. He was actually being incredibly kind, and honest, and telling me he’d like to be with me. . . . I was the one who was doing the hurting. I should have been more honest and not so emotionally constipated.”

  Drew snorted. “Were you doing your ‘keep me at arm’s length’ thing again?”

  “I was. I’m an idiot.”

  They watched the waves below for a while.

  “He left because he thought we rejected him,” Drew said.

  Lia nodded. “But we didn’t. We should have been more straightforward.”

  “I’ve been a jerk.”

  “Lia!”

  Lia turned to see Giselle calling to her from across the grass.

  “Time for bridesmaids pictures!”

  “My turn, I guess.” Lia tried to smile.

  She saw the other bridesmaids walking down a path toward the rocky cliffs below, but she saw that Giselle was heading toward a long set of cement stairs—probably to maneuver be
tter in her long dress—and went to help. Together, they took the stairs slowly. So slowly, in fact, Lia had time to glance up and gaze at the marina every fifth step or so.

  Giselle smiled. “Looking for Evan’s boat?”

  Lia looked away. Caught. She’d told Giselle and Noelle everything about Evan. It felt good to open up to her sisters again, sitting on the floor of her apartment and drinking wine and having one of their old-fashioned “whine fests.” After the huge mistake she’d made by clamming up with Evan, she’d vowed not to do it anymore with anyone else. And she started with her sisters. From now on, it was put your emotions out there. So far, it hadn’t resulted in the world ending. In fact, it had only resulted in feeling better and more connected than she ever had. It finally dawned on her that that was the feeling of success.

  Giselle fluffed her full, white dress. It was a 1950s vintage-style gown that suited her Grace Kelly looks beautifully.

  “You look gorgeous, Giselle. I’m so happy you found your real love.”

  Giselle looked up, surprised, and pulled Lia into a tight hug, despite their precarious position on the stairway. “You will, too,” she whispered.

  The “find” in question came into view at the base of the steps.

  “Careful up there,” Fin said. He stepped forward in his tuxedo and helped Giselle the rest of the way down the stairs. His wetsuit-modeling days came in handy as he smiled naturally at the wedding photographer, who appeared in the cove and got busy snapping candids of the three of them. They moved across the sand and came to a small outcropping of rocks.

  “Want to get a shot of you two and your bridesmaid there?” the photographer called over the crashing waves, pointing toward Lia.

  “How about a picture of me saving our bridesmaid from falling into the ocean?” Fin mumbled, reaching for Lia’s hand as she tried to climb over the rocks herself.

  “I’ve got it!” Lia slapped his hand back. “What do you think I am, some ninety-year-old lady?”

  “You’re as feisty as one,” Fin said.

  She crawled to the top of the rock, but her foot slipped, and the danged new shoe went sliding. Down. Into. The. Ocean.

  “Damn it!” Lia cried. “I spent four friggin’ months looking for that shoe!” An unreasonable sadness clogged her chest and she almost thought she was going to cry. Her emotions were obviously out of control.

  “And I think I slept on it one night,” came a voice from below the rocks.

  Suddenly, the voice’s head crested—Evan!

  “You’re not going to tumble down next, are you?” he asked.

  Her heart started pounding.

  “She might,” Fin said. “But I wouldn’t try to help her.”

  “Oh, I know better.”

  Evan hoisted himself onto the rock platform. He had on navy trousers and a white button-down shirt with a neat, narrow tie that swung as he lifted himself up. Lia blinked back the incongruity of seeing him standing there. Her heart pumped out of her chest.

  “What are you doing here?” she finally managed to squeak out.

  “Brought you this.” Her blue stiletto dangled from his fingertip. “Thought you might need it today.”

  “You . . . you came all the way back here just to . . . to . . . bring me a shoe?”

  “Well, and I forgot something.”

  The hope that had buoyed her chest when she saw him sunk. All those months of missing him, all those nights of realizing the mistakes she’d made, all those mornings of trying to conjure him at her doorway sunk like a rock in her chest. What might he have forgotten? The parts strewn across his deck? His motor pieces? His jacket? . . . Her disappointment tasted bitter in the back of her throat.

  “What did you forget?” She looked away so he wouldn’t see the tears threatening.

  “You.”

  Lia’s heart did a quick-and-stutter again.

  He shoved his other hand in his pocket. Giselle and Fin, who were standing there gawking, suddenly seemed to capture Evan’s attention.

  “Congratulations,” he said, nodding to them both.

  “Thanks.” Fin stretched out his hand. “Fin Hensen.”

  “Evan Betancourt.”

  “I’ve heard about you.”

  “Have you, now?”

  “Good things.”

  “That surprises me.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I think I may have made some mistakes.” Evan glanced at Lia.

  Fin looked between Lia and Evan for several beats, then smiled and waved his hand back toward the guests. “Well, we have to . . . uh . . . Giselle? . . . Don’t we need to get back?”

  Giselle was smiling at Lia. “We do.” She turned toward the photographer. “Tell the bridesmaids to meet us back up there—we’ll take our pictures by the gazebo.”

  Giselle fluffed her bouffant dress and pulled it back so she could walk more gracefully along the rocks. She let Fin reach over and hold her arm, leaning into him. Lia noted the gesture with interest. It didn’t look weak. It didn’t look too dependent. It didn’t make Giselle look incompetent. It didn’t look like an abyss.

  It looked like grace and loveliness and deep, deep trust, and—most importantly—it looked like love.

  Lia’s eyes felt misty as she watched her buddy and sister.

  “I’m sure there’s plenty of food and drink for an extra guest, Evan,” Giselle yelled back, watching her footing. “You should come.”

  “Thank you.”

  Giselle and Fin wandered back up the beach, hand in hand, leaning toward each other.

  “Evan, I’m—”

  “Lia, I’m—” he said at the same time.

  They both laughed.

  “You go first,” he said.

  “Let’s sit down.”

  She teetered around the outcropping, heading toward a large rock where they could sit. She saw his hand jolt forward to help her, but he withdrew it quickly and ran it across the back of his neck.

  After a slight hesitation, she reached back and took it. She let him help her over the rocks.

  “Evan, I’m sorry,” she said. “For not saying so many things I meant to that day. I went back for you.”

  He lifted his eyebrow. “When?”

  “That night.”

  He looked away. They got to the lone rock and sat down. He bent forward and put the shoe in the sand.

  “I’m sorry, too,” he said. “I shouldn’t have had such a knee-jerk reaction. I regretted leaving before I even hit Guadalajara. But by then I didn’t want to turn around. I figured I didn’t have anything to go back for.”

  “I’m so sorry. I should have said what I was feeling. I shouldn’t have let Elle pull me away to work again, and I shouldn’t have worked so late that night. I might have caught you. I . . . I quit, by the way.”

  “You quit?”

  Lia nodded.

  “Why? You said it was all you wanted—Paris and everything.”

  “I realized I was leaving a few things out. Like time to enjoy it. Like loved ones to enjoy it with. And . . .”

  Her brain almost clamped down on the real emotion again, but she knew what it had cost her the last time. She took a deep breath and summoned the courage to say the words.

  “And what?” Evan asked.

  “And possibly the love of my life.” She finally met his eyes.

  Both Evan’s eyebrows lifted this time. “Douglas?”

  She shoved him in the shoulder. “You, you dolt.”

  His eyes gentled. The waves crashed around them as he tentatively took her fingers and ran them through his. “I’m the love of your life?”

  She nodded. She seemed to have lost the ability to speak again. She was going to have to get over this, damn it: jump into the abyss.

  “I’ve been crying a lot,” she finall
y blurted.

  His eyebrows drew together.

  “. . . while I’m in bed. And I’ve been trying to make a list. Ten good reasons.”

  He waited, his frown deepening, rubbing her knuckles. She knew he was waiting for her to elaborate, but her throat was closing up.

  “Ten good reasons to do what?” he finally asked softly.

  “To forget you.”

  He nodded. The next wave crashed, and he watched it float close to them, but recede. A sadness took over his features, but he didn’t let go of her fingertips.

  “But . . .” She took a deep breath. She couldn’t let him be consumed by that. He was such a good man. She needed to tell him the truth: “I could only think of three.”

  His mouth quirked up at the corner. “Which way were you counting?”

  “Backward.”

  He nodded, a small smile still hovering on his face. “What are ten, nine, and eight, then?”

  “Number ten was my job. I had to forget you to focus on my job. But then . . . well, I quit.”

  “Yeah, that doesn’t work at all.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  He ventured a half smile. “What was nine?”

  “Nine was that you might never come back. That you’d already forgotten me.”

  “Doesn’t work either. Obviously. I not only didn’t forget you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. How about eight?”

  “Eight was that I’m nothing like Renece.”

  His frown returned as the ocean splashed near them. “I don’t need you to be anything like Renece, Lia.”

  “But she was quiet and pretty and shy and all the things you probably like. And I’m . . .”

  He reached out to push a windblown strand of hair behind her ear. “Bossy and pushy and talkative?” He smiled.

  “Something like that.”

  “That’s why I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “But you loved her, and you probably want to find someone like her to love again.”

  “Lia.” Evan shook his head. The ocean crashed behind them as he rested his elbows on his knees, his face tightened into concentration. “I did love Renece. But I’m not looking for someone like her to have a repeat of that part of my life. I was never looking for that. In fact, I did my best to shut myself off from any memories or feelings at all. But you . . . you just wriggled your way in. You made me . . . feel . . . again. When I first saw you, I was irritated by your joy and optimism. But now I think I was just jealous of it. . . .” He looked at her again, as if to see if she could believe that.