by Ann Mcintosh
She laughed at the thought of her father’s face if David had said that to him, and turned to watch as more passengers boarded the boat. There was a family of seven: parents, another couple who looked to be grandparents, and three children—the oldest no more than eight or so, the youngest just a baby in the mother’s arms. They all looked happy except for the baby, who appeared to be sleeping, and a pang of longing so strong it made her breath catch swept through Nychelle.
That was what she wanted. That was why she’d forgone the rigors of medical school for what her parents had called “a wasted opportunity.” Of course they would never understand. The concept of not wanting to be called Doctor, of believing there was more to life than work, was alien to them both.
The water taxi rocked as more people climbed on, and as though reacting to the motion the baby awoke, squirming, her face scrunched up in objection. Nychelle couldn’t help smiling, thinking about the life growing in her belly, and longing for the day she would be holding her own baby.
* * *
Nychelle was so focused on whatever it was she was looking at that David’s gaze followed hers to where a young woman sat, holding a squirming baby. In deference to the heat the baby was uncovered except for a pink and yellow onesie and a pair of rather snazzy striped socks. Her face was red with temper, her hair plastered down on one side and wildly curly on the other.
David instinctively looked away, as he always did when seeing a baby outside of a work setting. Yet, he found his gaze drawn back.
It was only then he realized that the hard pang of grief he used to feel whenever he saw a baby was absent.
When had that happened?
Now he waited for guilt to take its place—was shocked when there was no hint of that emotion either. Was he the same man who, on the anniversary of Natalie’s birth, suffered all the agony of losing a child as if it had just happened?
But that wasn’t quite right, either. He remembered what it had been like when it had happened. The agonizing, almost paralyzing sense of loss. The inability to think about anything other than Natalie. The urgent need to somehow turn back the clock and save her, even though logically he knew it was impossible.
He’d mourned on her last birthday, and still thought of her often, but not to the exclusion of all else. Not in the way he had at first, and for a long time after, when it had been a Herculean effort to see past the pain so as to go on with his life. A little at a time he’d learned to live with the knowledge that she was gone and was never coming back.
“Look, Mom. Look!”
A child’s excited shriek gave him a good reason to look away from the baby, to pretend interest in where the little girl was pointing, out into the river. Still lost in his ruminations, David hardly saw the ripples in the water, barely registered the flip of a large, dark tail and the lively chatter the brief appearance of the manatee had caused.
“Did you see it?”
“I did.” He nodded, wondering if she meant the manatee or the baby, since she’d been as intent on the latter as he.
“The first one you’ve seen since you came here?”
“Yes, although I still don’t think I’ve seen one properly,” he replied, aware of a dual meaning to his words that she wouldn’t understand, and gaining a chuckle from her.
“True. A tail does not a manatee make, right?” When he laughingly agreed, she said, “I’ve always wanted to go to the Three Sisters Springs, on the west coast, and see them where they winter. Apparently you can get a really good look at them there.”
“Why haven’t you?”
She lifted a hand to push her sunglasses firmly up on her nose. “My ex-fiancé didn’t like the outdoors much—preferred to holiday at casinos and resorts. Although it’s been a while since we broke up, I just haven’t made the trip.”
The news that she’d been engaged gave him a jolt, and it struck him then how little they really knew about each other. Their friendship had grown in fits and starts, without any of the revelations that would naturally have emerged had they been dating. He’d told her very little about himself too, so it wasn’t one-sided.
They’d agreed to keep things light between them today, but he didn’t think that meant they were barred from talking about themselves.
“You should go,” he said, leaning back and putting his arm along the cushion behind her, so the end of her ponytail brushed his hand. “When my marriage broke up I went white-water rafting. My ex refused to even consider it when we were together, and it was something I’d dreamt of doing since I was a child.”
“I thought I’d heard you’d been married but I didn’t want to bring it up, in case it was too painful.”
She was in profile to him, and he saw her eyes flick toward him behind her dark glasses. The sideways glance was accompanied by that habitual rubbing of her wrist, and it made him want to stroke her nape with a calming finger.
“It was a while ago, so not painful anymore.”
The divorce had stopped hurting, although some of what Kitty had said still lingered painfully, but talking about it would lead to deep waters.
The boat moved on and, looking back toward the shore, he said, “Tell me more about Stranahan House. What makes it so special anyway?”
“The man who built it is credited with being the founding father of Fort Lauderdale.” She visibly relaxed, turning to face him, her hands falling to rest on her lap. “It was built in the early nineteen-hundreds...”
As she gave him a mini-history lesson David took it all in—although it was less the story and more the sound of her voice and her expressive face that held his attention. When she’d finished the story, he said, “You know a lot about the history of the city.”
“I like history,” she replied. “If I hadn’t gone into nursing I’d probably have become a teacher.”
He could see her doing that—interacting with the kids, enjoying watching their young minds soaking up knowledge and growing.
“Why didn’t you go into pediatrics? You obviously love kids.”
“Aw, hell no.” Even though she chuckled, she didn’t sound amused. “My heart couldn’t stand it. Give me an adult in pain and I’m fine, but if it’s a child or, worse, a baby... I turn into a mess. My peds rotation was the hardest on me emotionally.” She shook her head slowly, her face taking on a faraway expression. “I almost quit nursing.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Talking about it seemed to be taking her to a dark place—one he wondered at. “It was that bad, huh?”
“Yes, it was.”
She was still facing him, but David wondered if she was even seeing him.
“There were a couple of days that left me wondering what it was all about—if there was any reason to try to help. If it wasn’t for Aliya, I’d probably have snapped.”
He knew what she was talking about. He’d experienced some of those same emotions during his residency—times when he’d seen the worst human beings could do, and his faith and optimism had been stretched to breaking point.
Not wanting her to relive those hard times, he instinctively stroked her hand and said, “This must have been a fun place to grow up.”
She shrugged, leaving her hand where it was, beneath his. “I know it was for some people. I didn’t have the chance to enjoy it until I was older.”
Another sore subject. He could tell by the way her fingers clenched into a fist. But this one he didn’t want to skirt. “Why wasn’t it for you?”
She glanced toward shore and he heard the sound of the boat’s engines change. She’d said their stop was next, so hopefully she’d answer before they had to disembark.
Instead of answering, she asked, “You grew up poor, right?”
That was an understatement, but he simply said, “Yes.”
“So what did you do during the summer?” Nychelle raised her eyebrows. “Probably worked, ri
ght?”
“Yes.” He nodded slowly, wondering what she was getting at. “I helped my dad in his shop, and picked up whatever other jobs I could.”
“What else? Did your family spend some time together? Were there times when you got to do other stuff?”
“Sure.” Wasn’t that what childhood was all about? She seemed to be waiting for him to elaborate, so he continued, “When we were little Mary-Liz, Donny, our cousins, and I spent as much time as we could outdoors. Every now and then, when our parents could afford it, we’d spend a day at the beach or go camping. When I was a little older I’d save up my money to go to science camp.”
His parents had let him, instead of insisting he use the money to buy school supplies, although he’d done that too. Talking about it with Nychelle, he suddenly realized it had been a childhood of joy and wonder, despite the poverty.
“Sounds like hard work, but with fun to balance it out.” She tipped her chin up in an almost combative gesture. “For us—Olivia and me—everything was geared toward our futures in medicine, being prepared to get into the best colleges and ‘getting a leg up on the competition.’”
The way she enunciated the last words told him it was something she’d heard often.
“There wasn’t much room for good times under those circumstances.” She gently pulled her hand out from under his and reached for her bag. “We get off here.”
As they waited for the boat to dock he contemplated what she’d said. It wasn’t hard to believe. Having met her parents, he could imagine the pressure they’d put on their children. He’d gone to school with some people he suspected had been raised in a similar way. If they hadn’t got one hundred percent on a test, or aced a subject during a semester, they’d freaked, worried about what their parents would say. He’d even seen some of them crack under the strain, and knowing that made him admire Nychelle all the more. It must have taken immense strength of character to stand up to her parents and go her own way.
He’d had to work like a fiend to get to medical school—but not because his parents had been pushing him. For him it had been work to secure scholarships, to have enough money to get where he wanted to go. It was ironic to feel bad for Nychelle, knowing she’d come from such a wealthy family, and yet she had missed out on the joys of childhood because her parents were so single-minded.
“Well,” he said finally, as they stood on the dock waiting for the other water taxi to come so they could continue their adventure, “why don’t we make up for some of that lost time?”
Brow wrinkled, she asked, “What?”
“The fun times you missed as a kid.” He grinned. “Let’s make up for them.”
The beginnings of a smile tugged at her lips. “How do you suggest we do that?”
“Personally, all my childish fantasies involved ice cream and clothes that were bought specifically for me. What did you wish you could do in summers back then?”
Even behind the dark lenses of her glasses he could see her eyes widen.
“I don’t know,” she replied quickly, but then she shook her head. “I do know. I wanted to go to the beach and build sandcastles, or go to a water park.” She gave a little chuckle. “I was even jealous of my friends who complained they had to spend their vacations with their grandparents.”
David took her hand. “Well, if you give me ice cream I’ll build sandcastles with you. I’m pretty good at it, if I might say so myself. And if you don’t believe me we can call my niece and nephew to have them verify that fact.”
There was a moment of stillness between them, but David could feel Nychelle’s gaze almost drilling into him, as though she didn’t know how to react to his nonsense. And then she laughed: a full-bodied, throaty sound, echoing with what sounded like pure joy.
“You’re on,” she said, giving his fingers a squeeze. “And your skills had better not disappoint.”
“Oh, they won’t.” He gave her a jaunty grin for good measure, feeling lighter, happier than the simple moment really called for. “I promise.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HOW HAD SHE ever questioned David’s character? He was one of the nicest people she’d ever known.
Leaning back on her towel, Nychelle watched as he added another tower to the sandcastle, expertly shaping it into a cylinder before starting to embellish it with crenellations.
“The trick is the amount of water you put in,” he said, then glanced over at her and held up one sandy hand. “Aren’t you going to help at all?”
Nychelle just chuckled and got up to shift the umbrella so it covered him better. “There. I helped stop you getting sunburned.”
“Ha-ha.” David shook his head and went back to decorating the castle with arrow slits inscribed into the sand with the end of his straw. “I thought this was something you wanted to do.”
He tried to sound disgruntled, but couldn’t stop the sides of his lips quirking, which spoiled the effect completely.
“I’m finding watching you even more fun than I’d have actually doing it. Besides, you’re so much better at it than I could ever be.”
His laughter brought a smile to her lips as she resumed her seat beneath the other umbrella and tucked her legs up under her. It was, she decided, the best day she could ever have hoped for. Simple pleasures, enjoyed together.
They’d floated along the Intracoastal, looking at the fabulous houses, critiquing the architecture and marveling at the luxuriousness of the surroundings and the boats berthed outside many of the residences. Initially Nychelle had planned for them to have lunch at one of her favorite waterside restaurants, but the smell of the seafood had made her feel queasy as soon as they’d walked in. David hadn’t commented or complained when she’d changed her mind, and they’d strolled along for a couple of blocks more, until they’d found an up-scale burger joint.
Although their conversation had been light enough, she’d discovered a few things she hadn’t known before. He’d talked a bit more about his marriage and, in true David fashion, had spoken of his ex with respect and regret, rather than acrimony.
Thinking the woman a fool for letting him go, Nychelle had wanted to ask for more details. But when he’d moved on to talk about something else she hadn’t pressed the subject. After all, it had been her idea not to go too deep today.
After lunch they’d wandered along South Fort Lauderdale Beach Boulevard, browsing shop windows and craft stalls. He’d threatened to buy her an alligator foot keychain or a gator tooth necklace, both of which she’d politely refused through her laughter. But she’d stopped on her way back from the ladies’ room and bought him a tropical print shirt in colors so wild she was sure he’d never wear it.
He had immediately put it on.
“Good grief!” she’d said, breathless from giggling. “I don’t know if I want to be seen with you in that.”
“Too bad,” he’d replied, with a grin that just turned her insides to mush. “You should have thought of that before you bought it.”
Then, true to their agreement, she’d bought him an ice cream cone, which had prompted him to suggest they cross over to the beach and build their sandcastle. With one more stop to get another round of cold drinks, they’d done just that.
It was surprising to realize the sun was sinking toward the horizon already, although it wouldn’t get dark until after six.
“The day has flown by.” She suppressed a sigh, wishing their time together could last longer. “We should think about heading back soon.”
He looked up and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “If I wasn’t so covered in sand I’d suggest making an evening of it, but I’m not fit to go anywhere like this.”
Nychelle nodded in agreement. While it hadn’t been very windy, the sea breeze had left her feeling salty and sticky. “You can explore the night-life another time.”
Slanting her a quick glance, he replied, “Yes,
we can.”
Busying herself by pulling out her phone, Nychelle ignored his comment. “I need to take a picture of the sandcastle. It’s amazing.”
“One second.” Using his straw, David wrote around the inside of the moat in neat script: Queen Nychelle’s Palace.
“You’re a disgrace to the medical profession, having handwriting that neat,” Nychelle teased as she snapped several pictures, including a couple that featured him rather than the sandcastle.
“I don’t believe in conforming to other people’s expectations.” He stood up and brushed at his sand-covered legs, with little effect.
“True,” she said as she gathered up her bag. “Not doing so really does make life interesting.”
She knew that for sure, having spent years doing what she felt was right for her rather than what others wanted. She just wished she knew whether spending all this time with David was a good thing or not.
It had been an easy, uncomplicated day on the surface, but every time he’d smiled, or reached out to hold her hand, Nychelle had been aware of the undercurrents. As swift and strong as a riptide, they were rife with attraction, both physical and emotional—at least for her. Wishing she knew how he felt about it was futile. She wouldn’t ask. Not only because she was leery of actually knowing, but because she didn’t want to risk spoiling the day.
It had been wonderful.
Yet as they walked toward the shower at the exit near the road Nychelle looked back at the sandcastle and felt a sharp pang of sadness, knowing that it, like the day, would soon be gone.
* * *
Maybe it was the sun, or perhaps the amount of laughing he’d done during their day out, but as they wound their way back toward the water taxi stop David felt mellow. Happily tired. Nychelle looked pensive, though, and he could only hope it was because, like him, she was regretting the end of their time together.