“Believe it or not, the food is actually pretty good.”
“I’ve heard that. But it’s kind of far from where I live.”
“Nothing is far away in New Bern.”
“I know, but I spend so much time behind the wheel when I’m on duty that I get sick of driving.”
“You drove here and my place isn’t far from the Trading Post.”
“The Trading Post doesn’t have tablecloths and candles.”
I chuckled. We continued upstream, trees pushing in from the banks, the water ahead as flat as a billiard table. Here and there, we saw the occasional dock, overgrown and rotting, jutting into the creek. Above us, an osprey circled.
Natalie continued to stand beside me, and I had the sense that something had changed between us. Every now and then, she took a sip of her beer and I wondered whether she’d been nervous about our date.
Was she seeing someone else? I still thought it likely, but if that was the case, why had she come today or gone to dinner with me? Because she was bored or unhappy? Or simply lonely? And what was he like? How long had they been going out? It was also possible that she’d just been curious about the alligators and viewed me as a friend, but then why stand so close to me? She knew I was attracted to her. Common sense indicated that asking her to a second dinner in as many weekends meant something more than a desire for simple friendship, yet she’d agreed to meet me again. If she really was dating someone else, how would she explain her absence today? Did he live out of town? Was he in the military and deployed elsewhere? As usual, I had no answers.
The creek continued to narrow until we reached the boat ramp and entered the national forest. On the dock, I saw a father and son fishing; they waved as we motored past. Though I was only half-done with my beer, it was already growing warm. Leaning over the railing, I dumped the remainder and slid the empty bottle into the wastebasket in the cockpit.
“How much longer?” Her voice drifted back to me.
“Almost there,” I answered. “Another few minutes.”
Rounding the final bend, I began to slow the boat. In the treetop, I spotted one of the eagles sitting in the nest, though its mate wasn’t around. Up ahead, on the opposite side of the creek, in the small muddy clearing, were two alligators sunning themselves. They were juveniles, no more than five feet from nose to the tip of their tail, but it still felt like a stroke of luck.
“There they are,” I said, waving her over.
She ran toward the bow, vibrating with excitement.
“I can’t believe it,” she offered. “They’re right there!”
Turning the wheel, I tried to angle the boat so we could sit in the recliners and enjoy the wildlife. Satisfied, I shut off the engine, then retreated to the stern to drop anchor, feeling the rope tighten as it caught on the bottom.
By then, Natalie had pulled out her phone and begun to take pictures.
“There’s something else, too,” I reminded her. “The surprise I told you about.”
“What?”
I pointed at the treetop. “There’s an eagle’s nest right over there, and there are eaglets, too. They’re kind of hard to spot, but keep your eye out.”
Natalie looked from the eagles to the alligators and back again while I removed the plastic cover from the tray of food and grabbed another beer from the cooler. I popped a strawberry into my mouth and settled into one of the recliners. Leaning back, I used the lever to raise the leg support.
“Comfy?” Natalie smirked.
“My grandfather was a wise man when it came to luxury.”
Natalie picked a few grapes from the platter and took a seat, though she didn’t fully recline the chair.
“I can’t believe I’ve finally seen an alligator,” she marveled.
“You mention a desire, I make it happen. I’m a bit like a genie in that way.”
She made a face, but I could tell she was warming to my humor. I balanced a piece of cheese on a cracker as Natalie set her beer on the table.
“So…is this your thing?” she asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“All of this,” she said, spreading her arms wide. “The setup back at your house, boat rides, surprises. Is this how you generally try to pick up women?”
“Not always.” I took a meek sip of my beer.
“Then why the big show today?”
“Because I thought you’d enjoy it.” I leaned my bottle toward hers. “To the alligators.”
“And the eagle,” she agreed reluctantly, reaching for her bottle and tapping it against mine. “But don’t try to change the subject.”
“I’m not sure what the subject is.”
“I get the vibe that you’re a player. When it comes to women, I mean.”
“Because I’m so clever and charismatic?”
“Because I’m not naïve.”
“Fair enough.” I laughed. “But it’s not just me. You could have declined my invitation.”
She reached for another grape. “I know,” she finally agreed, her voice dropping an octave.
“Do you regret it?”
“Actually, I don’t.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am,” she said, and for the next few minutes, neither of us said anything. Instead, we took in the view, Natalie finally spotting the eaglets in the nest. She lifted her phone to get some pics, but by that time, they’d ducked below the rim of the nest again. I heard her sigh, squinting at me.
“Have you ever been in love?” she asked.
Though I hadn’t expected the question, an unbidden memory of Sandra rose to the surface. “I think so,” I said.
“You think?”
“When we were together, I thought I was,” I admitted. “But now, I’m not sure.”
“Why wouldn’t you be sure?”
“If I were really in love, I think I’d miss her more than I do. I’d think about her more.”
“Who was she?”
I hesitated. “She was a trauma nurse—her name was Sandra. She was smart. Beautiful. Passionate about her work. We met in Pensacola and we were happy together at first, but it got complicated after I was deployed to Afghanistan.” I shrugged. “When I came back, I…”
I looked over at her.
“I already told you I wasn’t in a good space mentally or emotionally, and I took it out on her. I’m amazed she put up with me for as long as she did.”
“How long were you together?”
“A little more than two years. But you have to remember, I was gone a lot of the time. By the end, I wondered how well we even knew each other. After we broke up, it took me a while to understand that I missed the idea of having someone, as opposed to missing her. I knew I never loved her the way my grandfather loved my grandmother, or even the way my parents loved each other. My grandfather was a true romantic; my parents were partners and friends and they complemented each other perfectly. I didn’t feel either of those things with Sandra. I don’t know. Maybe I just wasn’t ready.”
“Or maybe she wasn’t the one.”
“Maybe.”
“Anyone else? When you were younger maybe?”
For whatever reason, my mind flashed to Yoga Girl, but I shook my head. “I went out with girls in high school and college, but nothing monumental. After my parents died, while in medical school and residency, I told myself that I was too busy for anything serious.”
“You probably were.”
I smiled, appreciating the response, even if we both knew it was an excuse. “How about you? You said that you’ve been in love? Are you more the romantic type, or the partner-and-friends type?”
“Both,” she said. “I wanted it all.”
“Did you get it?”
“Yes,” she said. She held up her bottle, still half-full. “What should I do with this?”
“I’ll take it,” I said, reaching for her bottle. I rose from my seat, emptied the remains into the creek, and put the empty beside my own in the was
tebasket. On my way back, I gestured at the cooler. “Would you like another?”
“Do you have bottled water?”
“Of course. I came prepared.” I handed a water bottle to her before settling in my chair again. We continued to chat while we picked at the snacks, avoiding anything too personal. Our earlier discussion about love seemed to have butted up against some sort of internal personal limit of hers, so we talked about the town, the gun range where Natalie liked to shoot, and some of the more complicated surgeries I’d performed in the past. Eventually she was able to get photos of the eaglets and texted the images to me, something I realized only when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and checked the screen.
As we floated in place, a thin layer of clouds had begun to form, turning the sun from yellow to orange, and when the sky began shading toward violet, I knew it was time to start back.
I raised the anchor and started the motor, Natalie covering the snack tray before joining me in the cockpit. I drove faster on the return, making for a shorter trip, but was still amazed at how quickly time had passed. By the time I’d tied up the boat, dusk was settling in, the sky a brilliant palette, and crickets had begun to chirp. I helped Natalie to the dock, then handed the smaller cooler to her. Balancing the platter on the larger cooler, I walked beside her toward the back porch.
Once on the porch, I lifted the cooler lid. “Would you like another bottle of water?” I asked.
“Do you have any wine?”
“Would you like red or white?”
“White.”
Heading inside, I pulled the wine from the refrigerator and located a corkscrew. Pouring two glasses, I returned to the porch. She was standing near the railing, watching the sunset.
“Here you go,” I said, handing her a glass. “Sauvignon blanc.”
“Thank you.”
We took a sip in tandem, taking in the view.
“I called the hospital, as you suggested,” I said. “About my grandfather.”
“And?”
“You were right—it was a critical first step.” I went on, filling her in. She listened carefully, her eyes never leaving my face.
“Where do you think he was going? If it wasn’t Easley?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you don’t think he went to see Helen?”
“Unless he’d undergone a radical change, I just can’t imagine him being interested in another woman. Not at his age, not so far away, and definitely not with the way he still spoke about my grandmother.”
“He told me about her once,” Natalie mused. “He said she used to hum to herself in the kitchen when she was cooking and that sometimes, even now, he imagined he could still hear it.”
“When did he tell you that?”
“Last year, maybe? It was at the farmers’ market and I can’t remember how the subject even came up, but I recall thinking about that story when I got home. I could tell he still loved her.”
“That’s what I mean,” I agreed. “He was a one-woman man.”
She took another sip. “Do you believe in that? One woman for one man, for all time? The whole soul mate thing?”
“I guess it’s possible for some couples—like them or maybe even my parents—but it’s probably more the exception than the rule. I think most people fall in love more than once in their life.”
“And yet you’re unsure whether you’ve ever been in love.”
“It’s not fair to paraphrase my earlier statements back to me.”
She laughed. “So what are you going to do about your grandfather?”
“I’m thinking about driving down to Easley on Tuesday. I want to find out where he was picked up and try to locate his truck. Maybe it’ll help me figure things out.”
“That’s a long way to travel without much to go on,” she pointed out.
“It should only take a couple of days.”
As I spoke, I saw her shiver. She set her wineglass on the railing and rubbed her arms. “Sorry. I think I’m getting a little cold. Do you have a bathroom where I can change?”
“The bathrooms are tiny, so feel free to use one of the bedrooms if you’d rather. Are you hungry yet? Do you want me to get the grill going?”
She nodded. “I’m getting hungry, so that would be great. Do you think I could have a little more wine before I go in?”
“Of course.”
In the kitchen, I poured her more wine—she stopped me at half a glass—watching as she retrieved her bag from the family room and disappeared into the bedroom. Uncertain what she wanted for dinner—aside from the tuna—I’d dumped a lot of different options into the grocery cart earlier. There was not only a salad and green bean amandine, but rice pilaf and coleslaw as well. Lest anyone get too impressed, the rice pilaf came in a box with easy-to-prepare directions, and the coleslaw had come from the deli section of the grocery store. Sandra had taught me how to prepare green beans with olive oil, garlic, and slivers of almonds. I set the water boiling on the stove for the rice, scooped the coleslaw into a glass bowl and, along with the green salad and a bottle of dressing, brought all that to the table outside. I started the grill, added salt and pepper to the steak, and poured the rice and seasoning into the pot. After mixing soy sauce and wasabi for a dipping sauce for her tuna, I tossed the steak on the grill and returned to the kitchen for the green beans.
The steak, rice, and beans cooked quickly; I covered them with foil and placed them in the oven to keep warm, but there was still no sign of Natalie. Her tuna would take only a minute or two to sear, so I didn’t bother starting it yet. Instead, I moved a speaker out onto the porch, then used my iPhone to play some favorite tunes of mine from the eighties. I took a seat in the rocker, sipped the wine I’d poured earlier, and watched the moon as it rose, glowing just above the trees. It was one of those beautiful crescent-shaped ones—waxing or waning, but I wasn’t sure which. At some point in the past year I had downloaded an app that told you everything about the constellations and where to find them in the night sky; it occurred to me that I could fire it up and then try to later impress Natalie with my knowledge of astronomy.
But I dismissed the idea. She’d see right through me, for starters. Strangely, the more she rolled her eyes, the more I felt like I could simply be myself. I liked that—hell, Natalie was pretty much the entire package as far as I could tell—but what did it matter? I was leaving, so it wasn’t as though we had a chance at any kind of lasting relationship. I’d head off on my journey, she’d continue on her way, all of which meant there was no reason to get carried away, right?
It was a familiar exercise for me. In high school, I’d kept an emotional distance from the girls I’d dated, and the same thing had happened in both college and medical school. With Sandra, it might have been different in the beginning, but toward the end, I could barely handle myself, let alone a relationship. While all of those women had their charms, it struck me that I was always thinking about the next phase of my life, one that didn’t include them. That might seem shallow and maybe it was, but I firmly believed that everyone should strive to be the best version of themselves that they can possibly be, a belief that sometimes required difficult choices. But Natalie had been wrong in thinking that it made me a player. I was more of a serial dater than a man on the prowl. Yoga Girl (Lisa? Elisa? Elise?) was the exception, not the rule.
On the porch, I could feel the pull of my own behavioral history, warning me not to fall for a woman I would soon leave behind. Nothing good could come of that. She would be hurt and I would be hurt, and even if somehow we tried to make a go of it, I’d learned firsthand that distance can put a strain on any relationship. And yet…
Something had changed between us, and there was no way I could deny it. Nor was I sure exactly when it happened. Maybe it was something as simple as a deeper level of comfort, but I realized that I craved more than a physical relationship with her. I wanted what we’d had when I’d shown her the beehives or ridden on the boat or sipped wine on th
e back porch. I wanted easy banter and deep communication and long periods when neither of us felt the need to say anything at all. I wanted to wonder what she was thinking, often to be surprised; I wanted her to gently trace the scar on my hand and show her the others that marked my skin. It all felt odd to me, even a bit frightening.
Outside, the moon continued its slow rise, turning the lawn a bluish silver. A warm breeze gently stirred the leaves, like the sound of someone whispering. Stars above were reflected in the waters of the creek, and I suddenly understood why my grandfather had never wanted to leave.
Behind me, I sensed a sudden dimming of light, heralding Natalie’s approach from within the house. Turning to greet her, I smiled automatically before fully registering the woman who stood before me in the doorway. For a moment, I could only stare, certain that I’d never seen someone more beautiful.
Natalie was wearing a low-cut, sleeveless burgundy pencil dress that clung to her slender curves. Gone was the chain around her neck I’d never seen her without, and she was wearing wide-hooped earrings and sleek, delicate pumps. But it was her face that mesmerized me. She’d put on mascara, accentuating her thick eyelashes, and her expertly applied makeup gave her skin a luminous quality. I caught the trace of perfume, something that hinted of wildflowers. In her hand, she held her empty wineglass.
My staring must have given her pause, because she wrinkled her nose slightly. “Too much?”
Her voice was enough to bring me out of my stupor.
“No,” I said. “You are…stunning.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, looking almost shy. “I know it’s not true, but I appreciate it.”
“I mean it,” I said, and all at once, I knew: This is what I wanted; I wanted Natalie, not just for tonight, but for a lifetime of days and nights like the one we were having right now. The feeling was undeniable, and I suddenly understood what my grandfather must have felt when he first saw Rose in front of the drugstore so long ago.
I am in love with her, a voice echoed clearly in my mind. It felt slightly surreal, and yet truer than anything I’d ever known. But I also heard that warning voice again, telling me to end things now, before they became even more serious. To make things easier for both of us. The cautionary voice was only a whisper, though, fading before the surge of my feelings. This is what it’s like, I thought. This is what my grandfather was talking about.
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