Summer Desires

by Emily King

  Sarah smiled and shook her head. Amy chuckled.

  The waiter placed Sarah’s drink before her and opened Amy’s bottle of mineral water, pouring it into a glass for her. After taking their food orders, he departed.

  Amy raised her glass. “To the start of your summer vacation.”

  Sarah smiled and touched her glass to Amy’s. “Thank you. And thank you for taking me out to celebrate.”

  “You’re welcome.” Amy sipped her mineral water.

  Sarah took a sip of her cocktail. The sweetness of the muddled raspberries and sugar was tempered by the zing of fresh lime juice, and the drink had just the right amount of vodka. “It’s good,” she announced, passing it to her.

  Amy took a sip. “It is.” She passed it back.

  Sarah took another sip. “It’s too bad there’s no summer vacation for you.”

  “Yeah, summer is our busy season. In fact, it got under way last weekend—Memorial Day. But the best part about summer is that the junior lifeguard program starts soon.”

  “In a couple of weeks, right?”

  “Yes, for everyone who made it at the tryouts.”

  “You must be excited.”

  “I am. I’m looking forward to meeting the kids and teaching them new skills. It’s going to be great watching them gain confidence and rise to the challenges we put before them while they have fun doing it.”

  “What kinds of things do they get to do each day?”

  “Each day there are workouts, lessons, games, and events. The workouts are things like running, swimming, kayaking, paddleboarding, and calisthenics. The lessons mostly revolve around basic lifeguarding skills, such as the common types of injuries and problems we see and the rescue techniques and first aid techniques we use for each one. Other lessons are on subjects like nutrition, sun protection, and sportsmanship.”

  Sarah nodded. It sounded like a fun, challenging, and educational program.

  “But it’s summer, so the program is not all workouts and studying. The kids get to bodyboard and surf or learn how if they don’t know, play beach volleyball, have relay races, and do a lot of other fun stuff like go on field trips to places like tide pools and an aquarium so they can see marine life up close.”

  “And don’t forget the pier jump,” Sarah said. “I know all about that from Hannah, Mandy, and some of my other students who can’t wait to do it.”

  Amy laughed. “That’s right, and there’s also a pier swim, where they swim around the pier.”

  The waiter arrived and placed the appetizer of crab-stuffed squash blossoms on the table.

  Sarah admired the attractively arrayed dish. There were two squash blossoms nestled together on an artistic smear of green sauce—tomatillo, if Sarah recalled correctly from the menu. The orange-yellow blossoms had been stuffed to a nice plumpness and had been so delicately fried that the filling was still entirely contained within each closed blossom.

  “Would you like one?” Amy asked.

  Sarah nodded, picking up her fork. Reluctant to ruin the creation, she delicately pressed the side of her fork onto the stuffed blossom to cut off a bite containing the flower and the filling. She put the bite in her mouth. Closing her eyes for a moment while she chewed, she savored the flavors of the sweet crab meat and the blend of melted cheeses.

  Amy smiled. “Good, huh?”

  Sarah nodded and took another bite.

  Amy reached for her own fork and began making equally quick work of the other blossom.

  “So, the pier swim…” Sarah said. “That must be far. The South Coast Beach pier is pretty big.”

  “Yes, swimming out and back means swimming a little over two-thirds of a mile through the waves. But the kids can do it. We have them nice and fit by the end of the summer.”

  “It sounds like it. And from what I saw at the tryouts, a lot of them are good swimmers to begin with.”

  “That they are.”

  A busboy removed the empty plate and forks.

  “Do you want kids of your own?” Sarah asked. She regretted her question as soon as it left her mouth. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s a little early to ask that.” She tittered nervously.

  “No, it’s okay.” Amy reached for her hand across the table. She covered it with her other hand and gave it a reassuring pat. “It’s not too early to ask.” She took a breath and appeared to be carefully considering her answer.

  Sarah couldn’t blame her. It was a loaded question. She still felt bad for asking it, but all the talk about the kids in the junior lifeguard program had made her curious and she liked Amy well enough to want to know her thoughts on the subject. But now that she had asked the question, she was kind of afraid to know the answer. What if Amy’s reply wasn’t going to be something she liked? Things could sour between them very quickly and Sarah didn’t want that.

  “No, I don’t want kids,” Amy said. There was tension in her hand as it held hers. She must be similarly concerned about the implications of her answer. Sarah warmed at the thought that Amy might care enough about her for that to be the case. Amy squinted at Sarah as though to brace herself for her coming response. “Is not wanting kids a deal breaker?”

  Sarah squeezed her hand reassuringly. “No, it’s not a deal breaker at all. Quite the opposite. I don’t want kids, either.”

  Amy leaned back with obvious relief. “Whew, for a minute I thought this celebration dinner was going to come to a quick end.”

  “Sorry for that,” Sarah said with a grimace. “I’ll try not to ask any more momentous questions tonight if I can help it.”

  Amy gave a small chuckle. “Okay, but while we’re on the subject, why don’t you want kids?”

  “I suppose it does seem a little odd, considering that I’m a middle school teacher.”

  “No,” Amy said. “No more odd than me being a junior lifeguard instructor and not wanting them.”

  Sarah nodded. “Kids are great and I like teaching them and being around them, but I also like leaving them at the end of the day.”

  “Me, too.” Amy smiled at her.

  She smiled back. It was heartening to know that they were on the same page on a topic that probably would have come up sooner rather than later the way their relationship seemed to be progressing.

  The waiter reappeared and placed their main courses before them.

  “Mmm, these look as delicious as the appetizer,” Amy said.

  “And they smell wonderful.”

  They ate dinner, discussing and sharing their food and other topics of conversation. After their empty plates had been removed, the waiter brought dessert menus before departing again.

  “What do you think?” Amy looked at Sarah.

  “I’m pretty full, but everything has been so good that I think I want to try dessert, too. I’ll just get something light.”

  “No one will have to twist my arm to convince me to try dessert, either.”

  The waiter returned and took their orders. They both declined his suggestion of coffee with their desserts. He soon returned with a scoop of the seasonal sorbet for Sarah and the bittersweet chocolate pot de crème for Amy.

  Sarah took a spoonful of the sorbet placed before her. “Mmm.” The dessert melted against her tongue, filling her mouth with an icy silkiness and the heady flavor of fresh peaches. “You’ve got to try this.” She pushed her dish toward the center of the table to share.

  “Mmm, same here,” Amy said, pushing her own dish toward Sarah.

  Sarah took a spoonful of it. The thick and rich chocolate custard coated her tongue. “Oh, this is good too.”

  “Yours too,” Amy said, having tried a spoonful of the sorbet.

  They continued sharing the desserts until they had scraped the last bits from each of the dishes. The waiter deposited the bill on the table and Amy paid it.

  “Thank you for this lovely dinner. It was wonderful,” Sarah said.

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed it. It was wonderful for me, too.”

&nbs
p; Walking out of the restaurant, they emerged into the night air.

  “It’s nice out,” Sarah said. “Still warm.”

  “Yes, the marine layer hasn’t settled in yet.”

  “I love these late evening summer sunsets.” The long South Coast Beach pier stood out in relief against the backdrop of a multihued sunset, illuminated by the light standards that lined either side of it.

  “Would you like to go for a walk on the pier for a closer look?” Amy asked.

  “I would love to walk on the pier with you at sunset.” Sarah took Amy’s hand.

  Amy waved away the valet, and they began walking the couple of blocks to the pier. With the summer season and the balmy evening, the area was busy. Shops were open even at this late hour and still doing a brisk business, and the restaurants were crowded.

  They turned onto the pier. Paved with concrete, it afforded easy walking. Sarah strolled alongside Amy in her dressy sandals with no fear of tripping on a gap between timber ties or of getting splinters. Nearby other couples strolled hand in hand and a woman pushed a toddler in a stroller, holding her cell phone to her ear while a second child ran excitedly about, looking at the waves through the railings on either side of the pier. A tourist couple paused to snap a picture of the gorgeous sunset.

  “Why don’t we stop for a moment, too,” Amy said.

  “Okay,” Sarah said. Having walked about two-thirds of the way onto the pier, they were well over the water with an excellent view of the waves and the sunset. She walked to one side of the pier to stand at the railing.

  Amy stopped next to her, placing her arm around her, and Sarah leaned into her embrace. She looked to the horizon, which was colored a breathtaking blend of red, orange, and yellow by the last rays of the sun. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Amy remarked.

  Sarah turned her gaze from the horizon to her. The fading light caught the planes and curves of Amy’s face, making her tan skin golden and her agate-colored eyes mesmerizing. “Very beautiful,” Sarah said.

  Amy smiled and then, leaning closer, kissed her.

  A momentary breeze made Sarah give a slight shiver in her sleeveless dress.

  “Getting cold?” Amy asked. She moved behind her and encircled her with her arms.

  “Mmm, better.” Sarah leaned back into Amy’s warm body, enjoying the comfort and protection of her embrace while watching the last of the sunset. “This is nice.” She sighed in contentment.

  “It is.” Amy pressed a kiss to Sarah’s hair.

  A cry of “Brandon! Get down from there!” shattered the tranquility.

  Sarah straightened and turned to the source of the cry, as did Amy. It seemed to have come from the woman who had been walking with the young boy and pushing the stroller. She was on the other side of the pier, about forty feet away, holding her phone in one hand while reaching for the boy with the other. He was astride the pier railing.

  Amy took off, running toward them.

  Sarah followed as quickly as she could, running in her sandals. The woman must have been sitting on the nearby bench while on the phone and not noticed the boy climb onto the railing. The other child fortunately still looked to be in the stroller, which was visible in the light cast by an overhead lamp post.

  Sarah watched in alarm as the boy obstinately shrugged away from his mother’s reach and climbed down the ocean side of the railing. He inched along the limited space, gripping the railing with only one hand and extending the other for balance. His mother grabbed for him, and he took his hand from the railing to avoid her reach. Losing his balance, he pinwheeled his arms and fell backward off the pier. Sarah gasped in horror.

  “Brandon!” His mother let out a terrified scream. She extended her arm over the railing as if to somehow reach him before he fell into the sea below. “Brandon!” she cried again.

  Amy skidded to a stop at the railing and peered over the side where the boy fell in. Immediately, she stepped back and began tugging off her shoes and socks.

  Reaching her side, Sarah also looked over the railing into the area of surf where the boy had gone in, straining to see in the ebbing light. The sea was quite dark now and she didn’t see him. She looked at Amy.

  “Call 911! I’m going in, but we might need help.” Amy was peeling off her clothes, stripping down to her bra and underwear, clearly not wanting the burden of her sweater and pants in the cold, dark water when she went after the boy.

  Sarah fumbled in her purse for her phone and, with trembling fingers, dialed the emergency number. Waiting for the call to connect, she peered over the railing again. She caught a glimpse of something in the dimly lit water. Was that him? Was he moving on his own, or were the waves just tossing him about? The emergency operator came on the line and Sarah began speaking.

  A crowd was gathering with the commotion. People pushed closer as they tried to see what was happening.

  The woman turned around with a frantic look in her eyes. “Somebody help me! My boy is down there!”

  Amy’s state of partial undress must have registered with the distraught mother, because a flash of relief crossed over her face. “Are you going to get him? Hurry! Please hurry!”

  Amy was already climbing over the railing to the other side. Once there, she stood facing out over the ocean, her arms extended behind her, her hands holding the pier railing as she scanned the rolling waves.

  “See him?” the mother cried, pointing at a spot in the dark sea.

  “I see him.” Amy leapt from the pier and plunged into the water.

  Cold salt water hit Amy and enveloped her body. No matter how many times she jumped into the sea, the cold water was always a shock. She kicked to the surface of the rolling ocean and looked toward the pylons where the mother had pointed and where she had seen the boy. But she didn’t see him now that the waves were at eye level and blocking her view.

  It was so hard to see. The light from the lamp posts didn’t reach far enough to help much. Was that pylon the one where he had been? Or had a wave swept him under the pier? In this dim light, it would be impossible to see much of anything under there. She hoped he was still by the pylon, because there was no time to waste. Swimming closer, she took a deep breath and dove down, reaching, blinding reaching…

  Her fingers brushed something soft. She grasped it, only to realize it was a strand of seaweed. Her fear for the boy was rising. She continued to reach through the water. Where was he? If only it weren’t so dark. He had been on the surface just seconds ago, so he couldn’t have dropped very far. She was going to need to get some air soon. Her fingers brushed something soft again. Fabric? Yes! She grabbed hold and felt the connected weight of a small person. Her lungs beginning to burn, she secured him and kicked to the surface.

  Breaking the surface of the water with the boy, she sucked in a much-needed breath of air. Cheering erupted on the pier, but she ignored it, worried about the limp body in her arms. Had the boy only now lost consciousness, or had it happened sooner? Had he suffered an injury from his entry into the water, had he been tossed against the pylon and hit his head, or had he simply tired from resisting the power of the waves? So many questions, and these dark, crashing waves by the pylons were no place to try to assess him, or if needed, to resuscitate him. She began swimming to shore as swiftly and carefully as she could.

  Upon seeing Amy surface with the boy and start swimming to shore, Sarah sagged with relief. The frantic mother blinked away her tears and pressed her hands to her chest, a heartbreaking look of hope on her face. She and the crowd moved along the pier, following the progress of the swim to shore.

  Eager to get down to the beach to help Amy if she could, Sarah bent to take off her sandals so she would be able to run faster. To the side near the railing, she noticed Amy’s discarded sweater and belted slacks. Sandals in hand, she collected them along with Amy’s dress socks and polished loafers.

  A siren wailed in the distance—maybe the ambulance was coming. The sooner the better. Hugging the bundle of clothes and shoes
to her chest, Sarah ran barefoot down the cold concrete and then descended the stairs to the beach.

  On the beach, the only light was that cast from the lamp posts on the pier, which made it difficult to see very far into the distance. Leaving the bundle of clothes and shoes on the sand, Sarah ran closer to the water to try to see Amy. There she was—rapidly swimming through the waves with the boy in tow. Even in the dim light, Sarah could see the effort and determination on her face. Time was obviously of the essence—maybe the boy was hurt.

  Could Amy use help getting him out of the water, or would she just want Sarah to stay out of the way? Sarah took a chance and waded into the surf toward them, the cold water swirling around her legs.

  Amy reached shallower water and lifted the boy out of the surf. He looked limp, and Amy was carrying him in a way that looked as if she might be trying to minimize movement of his head and upper body. The muscles in her shoulders and arms stood out with the effort of maintaining the position.

  “Do you want me to help you carry him?” Sarah shouted over the sound of the ocean.

  Between panting breaths Amy spoke as she continued to hurry to shore. “I’ve got his torso. I don’t know if he has a spinal injury from his fall. You can support his legs, but be careful to keep them aligned. Help me get him to the firmer sand just out of the water.”

  “Okay,” Sarah said. Quickly grasping but carefully holding the boy’s legs, she kept in step with Amy.

  Was he going to need resuscitation? Amy could undoubtedly handle any CPR herself, but Sarah maintained a certification in basic life support as required for her job at South Coast Middle School. As they hurried up the shore, she spoke up, informing Amy of her training and her willingness to assist with CPR if needed.

  “We’ll have to modify for his possible injury, so I’ll handle CPR, but it would be great if you could hold his head and neck stable on the sand because I won’t be tilting his head back for the breathing—I’ll only move his jaw.”

  “Okay,” Sarah said. The sound of the sirens was closer, thank goodness.