by Amanda Tru
“No, please don’t!” Carter groaned. “The only thing saving me is that I haven’t eaten!”
Geneva felt slightly guilty. She didn’t know what she’d expected when Carter determined to go with her. She would have been fine going alone. She frequently went places alone just to unwind and have fun. By the end of the night, she’d inevitably end up finding a guy or a group to hang out with. Having company was always preferred if it was good company.
Carter coming along seemed almost like a challenge, however. She somehow doubted his motivation and interest as genuine, and she wanted him to pay the price of being her babysitter, proving that he really couldn’t keep up with her. Strange as it was, he’d claimed four years ago that he didn’t like her, and though she couldn’t explain it, she wanted to show him that he still didn’t like the real, unprofessional her.
He’d let her drag him through everything without complaint. He’d even hooted and hollered in the right places, seeming to enjoy himself at times. However, now he was a little worse for wear, and she switched roles. Though he may have come along under the misguided idea of taking care of her, he now clearly needed her to take care of him.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Let’s take a break and walk along the beach.”
Carter was not a small man, but he meekly followed her lead. They weaved their way past rides and games, all just beginning to glow with lights. Christmas lights were twinkling on as well, creating a massive, chaotic blur of color and light that almost overloaded the senses.
It felt strange to Geneva to see Christmas decorations and the sand of the beach mixed together. She even spotted a few Santa figurines proudly boasting sunglasses and beachwear. In her mind, Christmas involved cold weather and the possibility of a blanket of white covering the ground, but the week before Christmas in southern California was proudly mild. In fact, the day had been unseasonably warm with a high in the seventies that only now began to cool slightly with approaching dusk.
They left the carnival rides and lights behind and kept walking. Eventually, the sounds and people fell behind them, and they saw the uninhibited view of the ocean in full sunset glory. Carter breathed deeply, and the color began returning to his face.
Geneva dropped his hand, shrugged out of her shoes, and took off running to the water’s edge. The salty air whipped through her hair, and she lifted her face toward the waning sun. Her feet hit the wet sand, and she kept running until her ankles found the crisp, cool water of the waves. She pirouetted and danced around, imagining music with the rhythm of the waves that only she could hear. She didn’t care who saw her, but danced with complete freedom, her movements jumping and retreating with the ebb and flow of the waves. Water splashed over her stomping feet, the coolness working in tandem with the rest of the setting in releasing the tension from her body.
Out of breath and panting, she twirled around once more and sank to the wet sand. Then she drew her knees up to her chin and watched the red ball of fire meet the horizon.
She didn’t look up, but she still felt Carter’s approach. He sank down into the wet sand beside her, not seeming to care that the waves repeatedly visited to tickle their feet and soak the underside of their clothes.
“Feel better?” he asked quietly.
“I think that’s the question I should be asking you,” Geneva replied.
“I’m don’t feel nearly so green, but that’s not the kind of feeling better I was talking about.”
Geneva’s gaze was drawn to him. He spoke almost as if he understood, but that couldn’t be. She knew she probably looked like a crazy person as she danced like a fiend in the waves. Yet, he wasn’t criticizing her now. He wasn’t reproaching her for improper behavior or saying that he didn’t like or approve her actions. He acted like he realized she craved the release of pent-up tension and was asking if she’d succeeded.
“You know you’re beautiful,” he whispered, his honest eyes shadowed but somehow boring into hers.
Geneva’s breath stopped. Somehow, she knew he wasn’t complimenting her physical appearance, though that was part of it. It was as if he saw all of her, the professional doctor Geneva and the crazy off-work Geneva, and he called the whole frenzied, chaotic package beautiful.
But that wasn’t possible. She must be reading him wrong.
A beep sounded from behind them, breaking the moment. Geneva recognized the sound of a text message on her cell phone where she’d left it in her backpack in the sand by her shoes.
“It’s not Friday night,” Carter teased. Though his voice conveyed his humorous intent, something else entered his expression.
There it is, Geneva thought. There’s the disapproval.
Geneva laughed it off awkwardly and scrambled up to locate her phone. Seeing that it was from her contact labeled “Drummer Boy,” she read the text and explained. “Nope, it isn’t Friday, but some people like to make their weekend plans early.”
She quickly sent off a text to her friend, telling him she was out of town and might not be back for the weekend.
“Are you feeling up to trying some carnival food now?” Geneva asked, putting her phone away again.
Carter grimaced. “No one is ever well enough to attempt carnival food. But, if we walk back slowly, the sunset and ocean breeze might help me work up the courage.”
Geneva loved the ocean and wholeheartedly agreed. Though the sun had passed the horizon, colors still splashed overhead in its retreat. Their feet sauntered through the waves, and Geneva soaked in every sensation.
Someone didn’t walk in such a setting alone, and it felt wrong to not hold hands with Carter. Geneva had to stop herself repeatedly from reaching for him and berated herself for what felt like an instinctual response. Her body longed for contact with him as if her hand belonged in his. Even though she knew he didn’t feel that way about her, that didn’t stop the longing.
Geneva kicked a wave in irritation. Suddenly, she felt Carter’s hand come around hers and hold tight. Her heart leaped and then settled down to meet a calm where the world seemed right. It was a strange sensation to feel the pressure of awareness and the electric signals coming from her hand’s contact with Carter and yet feel an almost hypnotic comfort and calm to her soul.
They walked for several minutes with hands entwined, and Geneva plotted ways to keep walking instead of returning to the carnival.
Her phone beeped. She ignored it. Carter stiffened beside her, but she kept her hand in his, hoping he’d just ignore it. Thirty seconds later, it beeped again.
Ignore it. Ignore it, she urged silently.
When it beeped yet again ten seconds later, Geneva dropped Carter’s hand and reached into her backpack, intending to silence the evil contraption.
She took it in her hand and unlocked the screen.
Carter suddenly reached out, snatched the phone from her fingers, and took off running.
“Let’s just see who all is texting Dr. Geneva Hutchins!” he sang teasingly.
Recovering from her surprise, she made a grab for the phone only to have Carter dance away from her fingertips.
“Who is this ‘Drummer Boy’? And ‘Mr. President’?” Carter’s voice changed, and he suddenly stopped running and stared in fascination at Geneva’s phone screen. “‘Pocket Protector’? ‘The Accent’? ‘Manly’? Geneva, who are these contacts?”
Geneva plucked her phone from his momentarily stunned hands and locked her screen. “None of your business.”
“What? Is ‘None of Your Business’ one of your contacts, too?”
Geneva felt embarrassment creep up her neck in an uncharacteristic blush. Hopefully, it was too dark for Carter to see and recognize that he’d just stumbled across one of her more eccentric and potentially humiliating quirks.
Geneva ignored him, walking swiftly and making a beeline for the carnival.
Carter ran in front of her, blocking her path. She tried to swerve around him, but he put his hands out, gripping her shoulders gently and
stopping her movements.
“Please, Geneva. Tell me. Do you have a nickname for every man you’ve ever met?”
Something about his tone stopped her. He wasn’t laughing at her or judging her. He was seeking to understand. Without even understanding why she did it, she took her phone back out, unlocked the screen, and handed it back to him with the contact list displayed in all its glory.
Then she turned around and walked back to the beach. She walked alone for several minutes, letting the descending darkness and the sound of the waves soothe her.
Eventually, Carter approached. She stood still, hearing his soft footfalls in the lapping waves. When he reached her, he pulled her around to face him and handed her phone back.
“What’s my nickname?” he asked gently.
Geneva looked at him in confusion. “Didn’t you see my contact list. You’re in there.”
“I saw. But I want you to tell me. You have a nickname for every man in your contact list. Only the women and your family members are listed by their real names. So, what’s my nickname?”
“I believe you’re listed in my contacts as ‘Carter.’”
“Yes, I am. But every other man is listed by his nickname. In the comments, you list his real name, but the name that shows on your screen when they call or text is their nickname. My personal favorites are ‘Mr. Don’t Smile’ and ‘Dr. You-Don’t-Love-Me-As-Much-As-I-Love-Me.’”
“‘Mr. Don’t Smile’ has unfortunate teeth.” Geneva felt her mouth curving up in a grin in spite of herself. “Great guy, though.”
“But, I’m just Carter,” he persisted. “Why?”
“Well, I guess I could have labeled you as ‘Superman,’” Geneva answered rather flippantly.
“No, that’s not your nickname for me. That’s Allie’s. You came up with that when you were first trying to comfort her about seeing me. If it was really your nickname for me, it would be in the phone.”
Feeling backed into a corner, Geneva struggled to explain, “Well, as you know, I meet a lot of guys. It’s tough to keep them straight. Somewhere along the line, I started creating a nickname when I met a new guy. It’s almost like a mnemonic device that categorizes someone new in my mind. When I see the nickname come up on the screen, I’m able to remember exactly who he is. If I just listed him as ‘Tom,’ I’d have no clue which Tom he was.”
“I understand that. But why don’t I have a nickname? I don’t even have a last name. Your dad is ‘Dad.’ Your brother is ‘Dallas.’ I’m just ‘Carter.’” Other than your family, I’m the only one who doesn’t have a nickname or even a last name. Or maybe I have a name, and you just didn’t list it in your phone.”
His tone was so gentle. He wanted to understand the significance of even her weird quirks. She couldn’t pass it off as nothing. Not when she knew that where Carter was concerned, everything was significant, even if she didn’t consciously intend for even her phone contact list to reveal more profound meaning than the silly words with which she remembered people.
“You don’t have a nickname,” Geneva finally confessed, watching the white foam come to meet the sand so that she didn’t have to look Carter in the eye.
“Why?” Carter’s voice gentled even more, and he reached up to touch her chin, insisting that she meet his eyes. “What do you think about me?”
Geneva looked at him, at a loss to put feelings too big and confusing into words. “You’re different. You never needed a nickname. Even the first time we met, you were different. I looked at you, and my mind went blank. You were ‘Carter.’ There was no one and nothing to compare to you. Instead, you were who I compared everyone else.”
“Oh, Geneva, why didn’t you tell me? I always thought I didn’t matter, that I was just another link on a very long chain of guys marching through your life.”
A humorless laugh escaped from her lips. “It’s not very comfortable telling a guy how much you care when he obviously doesn’t feel the same way. From the beginning of our relationship, you made it clear that you didn’t like all of me. We got along fine in school or in work situations, but you never approved of me outside the hospital. Unrequited feelings are not fun to deal with, especially when the guy doesn’t actually like you.”
Even in the dark, Geneva could see Carter wince. “Don’t say that.”
“Don’t say what?” Geneva asked, confused.
“You always say I didn’t like you.”
Geneva looked at him warily, wondering if he was losing it. She spoke slowly, “That’s what you told me.”
“I know, and I wish I could take it all back. I was an idiot.”
Geneva scoffed and shook her head. “No, you weren’t. You spoke what you felt, and it was the truth. Even I could tell you didn’t always like me.”
“I didn’t understand, and what I felt scared me,” Carter said, persisting despite evidence to the contrary. “We were so different. I thought you would eventually get bored and leave me for someone more fun. I was convinced that every guy you ever talked to was the one who would take you away from me.”
“I don’t believe you,” Geneva said firmly. “Maybe you don’t remember what you felt at the time, but I do. You weren’t pushing me away because you were in love with me. You broke up with me because you didn’t like me as a person. How can you love someone you don’t even like?”
“I like you, Geneva. You aggravate me. I don’t understand you most of the time. You drive me crazy.” His voice lowered, and he moved closer. His face inches away from hers, he spoke the words slowly, enunciating them with emotion that said he really believed every syllable. “But, man, do I like you. I like everything about you. I like you way too much.”
Geneva scowled, not understanding why he was speaking these things that obviously weren’t true. “I don’t—”
His kiss silenced her words. Geneva’s heart skyrocketed. His lips moved over hers hungrily, sending fire through her veins as he seemed to try to prove exactly how much he “liked” her. His arms came around her pulling her closer as the passion cascaded around them like the waves at their feet.
Then his kiss softened, and his hands released her to come up to gently cup her face. His face lifted just a few inches from hers, and he whispered. “Oh, how I like you, Geneva. Yes, I like you as a doctor. I admire you more than any other colleague I have ever met. Though you are the smartest, most knowledgeable person I know, what I admire more is your heart. I didn’t realize four years ago that the heart I so love is who you are. That stays consistent, whether you are working or not. Whether you’re performing surgery, praying with a patient, or letting off steam because you care so deeply, your heart is what drives you. Though I can’t pretend it’s easy, I’m learning to like you in every situation. Tonight, I can safely say that I like you even when you’re dragging me on horrible carnival rides. And, oh, how I like you when you dance in the waves!”
Geneva’s heart twisted painfully at his words, and she longed to believe him. Part of her did, and yet the other part feared that she would disappoint him. At some point, she was bound to upset him, and he’d realize she really wasn’t likable. He would tire of attempting to join in her fun. It just wasn’t his personality, and though she was entertaining in the short term, she knew she’d exhaust him in the long-term.
Yet, she loved him. She always had. That was the reason he’d never had a nickname, and she’d never introduced him to her parents. He was different, and four years hadn’t changed that at all. He was still just ‘Carter,’ and she loved him even more now than she did then. She loved him for how he’d cared for Allie. She loved him for coming with her on this crazy search. She loved him for making her give up and go home to be with Allie. She loved him for going on carnival rides and making himself sick. And she loved the way he kissed her.
As much as she loved him, she doubted that he could love her in return.
Geneva shut her eyes, relishing the sound of the ocean and the feeling of his nearness, the emotions all the more int
ense when paired with her conviction that the moment could only ever be fleeting.
“Carter, you have no idea…” Their relationship was unequal. As much as he cared for her, it couldn’t in any way compare to how she cared for him.
“Tell me, Geneva,” Carter urged, trailing gentle kisses along her jawline. “Tell me how you feel.”
“I can’t,” she said brokenly, and she stepped back from his embrace. If she were honest, it would open herself up to unimaginable hurt when he once again realized she wasn’t who he wanted.
She whirled around and headed back through the sand to the carnival.
It didn’t take long for Carter to catch up. He slipped his hand into hers and stopped her once more.
“I don’t want a superficial relationship with you,” he said firmly. “I want the real thing. I want the real Geneva with all her quirks, insecurities, and messy thoughts. I’m not going anywhere, Geneva. When you want to open up and let me in, I’ll be here waiting.”
Geneva didn’t respond, but Carter kept his hand in hers, not dissuaded in the least. She didn’t know how to tell him that she couldn’t give him what he wanted. So, she kept her silence and stole just a moment of enjoying his company and the feeling of her hand in his. Eventually, he would leave her, but for just this moment, she let herself imagine that he really was hers.
“I want to do that,” Geneva insisted, pointing to the carnival game.
“You can’t be serious,” Carter said, staring at the balloons lined up in rows behind the booth’s counter. “Gen, you know these things are scams.”
“It’s my money. I’m going to do it.” Geneva confidently walked up to the worker running the booth and handed over her cash. The man, who Geneva instantly dubbed “Carnie,” grinned a smile that contained several missing teeth and handed her three darts while explaining the rules. The object of the game was to pop the balloons with the darts. Each balloon held a ticket that corresponded to the prizes anchored above them. You had to pop the balloon to get the prizes. The concept was easy enough, and the balloons were only about seven feet away. Popping one of them seemed very doable.