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Authors: Deirdre Riordan Hall

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“You
need new brakes. And a muffler and windshield wipers.”

“Whatever
you say, babe.” Ian guided Kira into the bedroom. She unbuttoned his shirt. He
drew hers up over her head. Their lips met. A familiar Bob Marley song played
softly from the speakers in Ian’s study. Upon hearing it, the rolling of the
waves in the background and her own two feet rooted to the earth, Kira knew
something she’d never known before. Maybe it was because of the last six months
of upheaval in her life, maturity, or maybe wisdom came with freedom, honesty,
and trust, but as they fell into the bed, Kira knew that truly
everything
was going to be all right.

 

 

 

 

Chapter
Thirty

 

As
Kira rode her wave of excitement mixed with relief, much of the month coasted
by. When she gave her notice at work, Alice was disappointed to lose her yoga
partner. However, as part of the hiring committee, she made sure the candidates
were hot, so she had flirting and late nights working with the new hire to look
forward to.

 “So
when do we leave?” Ian asked when they returned to the cottage after gathering
up the last of Kira’s things. He prepared them a romantic candle-lit dinner.

“Whenever
we want,” Kira said pouring them each a glass of wine.

“Looks
like rain for the next week, there’s a tropical storm coming up the coast. If
we can outlast the wet and the grey, there might be some good waves behind it.
Tempting.” Ian hugged Kira from behind. She smiled at the fact that nothing
could subdue a surfer’s quest for waves.

“I’m
wherever you are,” she said. Once she’d gotten out from under the house on
Lilac Court and had sorted out her finances, she no longer felt an urgency to
leave right away. “There’s just the closing and then I’m free.”

As
the first few rainy days passed, Ian and Kira planned a route west. She had a
couple guidebooks and the internet to help direct her to some sights of
interest, but left much up to spontaneity. Their first stop was Connecticut to
visit Kira’s sister, followed by New York City to see Nicole and Nate, and then
they’d head south through the Smoky Mountains, west to the Rockies, and up to
Yellowstone before arriving in California.

Kira
reasoned if she was going to be a mermaid and live on the Atlantic and Pacific
coasts, she’d better see what was in the middle, and capture some images with
her camera while she was at it. Without a job to consume her time, Kira focused
on photography, growing eager to play with light and perspective as they
traveled west.

She
sat on the couch flipping through a photography magazine when Ian came through
the front door, rainwater dripping off him like he’d just come out of the
ocean.

“Yikes.
I’ll grab you a towel.” Kira scooted to the bathroom.

“I
hear the tropical storm has turned into a hurricane and is coming our way. Man,
it’s wicked out there,” Ian called.

This
news had her worrying, but the way he said it had her wondering. Surfers, their
storms, and the resulting waves were a curious sort. Her instinct was to head
to higher, if not drier, ground. “Is that good or bad?” Kira asked as she
passed him the towel.

“Good
for surfing I suppose, but bad for everything else.”

Kira
opened the laptop and found the weather site with a video report. A man in a
yellow raincoat stood in the center of the screen as wind and rain pelted him
in a way that desperately, though illogically, made Kira want to shout at him
to seek shelter. The trees tossed back and forth violently in the background.

“Jim
Rosedale here, coming to you live from Charleston. As you can plainly see, we
have surpassed tropical storm conditions. I just got word that Hurricane Percy
is now a cat 3. Typically as these systems move north, they decrease in
intensity, but Percy seems to be defying our projections. The other concern is
a low-pressure system moving south from Canada. If these two collide, the
result could be dire.”

Another
video came on immediately after, a report from a local station. A woman with a
light blonde coif and lipstick a shade too red announced that cities and towns
south of them preemptively declared a state of emergency. She recommended
people in low lying or coastal areas evacuate. Kira closed the laptop.

“Sounds
like a super storm.”

“Should
we go?” she asked.

“West?
We could. But there’s the closing,” Ian said.

“Jeremy
just won’t let me go,” she said dismally. “I have to be there if for no other
reason than to have closure. I already tried and failed to move the date up.” 

“We’ll
stick around then. Don’t worry, it’ll be okay,” Ian answered, pulling Kira into
a comforting hug. 

They
kept watch over the weather, while doing their part to help clear store shelves
of bottles of water, flashlights and batteries, food, and other provisions. Ian
put a piece of plywood over the stained glass mermaid on the door. Along with
everyone in the neighborhood, they battened down the hatches taking everything
in doors. It was surreal as they watched storefronts close and people retreat
to their homes, tucked behind darkened windows leaving an eerie stillness in
their wake as the rain drove down.

“Now
we wait.” The wind and waves roared as if engaging in battle. “Neptune’s
angry,” Ian joked.

The
ferocity of the ocean was something Kira had never witnessed, having avoided it
for most of her life. As the waves crested at high tide, she feared they’d
sweep the cottage away. Ian didn’t seem overly concerned, he just watched as if
a spectator at an unusual event.

“This
house has seen worse, trust me.” The glass windowpanes rattled as branches and
leaves rocketed by, scraping against the shingles. Everything was grey, grey,
grey.

“This
is the ocean I’ve always feared,” Kira said quietly.

“Percy’s
fierce, but it’ll blow out soon enough. You’ll see.”

Then
the lights flickered and in a blink, the electricity went out. Kira bundled
several blankets around her. Ian built a fire in the small woodstove that sat
in the corner of the kitchen, and then joined her on the couch. They played
cards in the dim light. As the battleship grey skies darkened, drawing night
in, they lit a lantern, and Kira brought out sandwiches she’d prepared earlier
along with a bag of chips. She picked at her bread crusts.

“Nervous?”
Ian asked.

“Very.”

“We’ll
be okay.”

However,
Kira’s nervousness had less to do with the storm itself and more to do with
what her anxious mind told her it signified. She worried that somehow, from
beyond the grave, Jeremy cursed her for running away with his money and another
man.

Ian
scooted closer to Kira on the couch. “You can’t let this doom and gloom get to
you. You’re going to sign those papers and we’ll be out of here and into the
sunshine.”

Sometimes
it really was as if he could read her thoughts.

Ian
picked up his acoustic guitar from the corner and strummed. He settled on a few
chords and then cleared his throat. Kira snuggled closer. The song Ian played
reminded her of sun and sand, the salt and the sea. It felt like waking up to a
new day and a lullaby. When the final notes rang out, Kira smiled wide, her
eyes sleepy.

“That
was beautiful.”

“I
wrote that when I thought I’d lost you. I was sad, but everything about you
made me happy.”

“And
now you’ve got me.” Their lips met.

“Tired?”

Kira
nodded.

They
couldn’t see the seas raging in the blackened sky, but the wind had picked up
and was deafening as they crawled into bed.

“Do
you have any earplugs?” Kira asked.

“Actually,
I do have something, hang on.” He rummaged in a closet by the door. Returning
moments later, he rubbed a clay-like thick substance between his fingers.
“Earwax.”

“Huh?”
Kira asked.

Ian
laughed. “It’s for surfing in cold water. You put it in your ears to prevent
surfer’s ear, damage to your eardrums. I’m softening it. Don’t worry, its
unused.”

Kira
plugged her ears, muting the roar of the wind. Soon her awareness fell in time
with her breath. Ian held her close, and she drifted to sleep.

Kira
dreamed of Jeremy following her through an endlessly rainy night. She couldn’t
see him, but felt him close behind her, then she’d get ahead and he’d fall
behind. Then he’d gain on her again. She was always out of his reach.
Nonetheless, his presence, even if no longer in her waking life, filled her
dreams with dread.

When
Kira woke up, the rain was still falling, but the wind had weakened. If she
remembered correctly, the tide would mercifully be out. Kira tilted Ian’s arm
and read his watch. It was just after nine a.m. “We slept in,” she mumbled
groggily.

“I
guess so.”

Pulling
the wax from her ears, Kira peered through the curtains to the ravaged beach,
eroded sand, and debris strewn along the shore. Ian joined her with the blanket
hanging over his shoulders and draped it across hers.

“I
think Percy did his worst, but has moved on,” he said.

She
couldn’t imagine what the town looked like.

They
were without power for over forty-eight hours, as it continued to rain then
tapered off to a sprinkle. From the reports, they were actually lucky.
Flooding, power-outages, and destruction caused by the wind had left millions
in compromised circumstances.

Ian
and some friends surfed, but it was too cold for Kira so she watched and
improved her photography skills with her favorite subjects, Ian and the ocean.

After
not being able to get through to the real estate agent for almost a week
because of the storm, Kira finally received a call.

“I’m
sorry, we have to postpone. The house sustained some damage from a fallen tree.
Nothing major. But it’ll need to be repaired.”

Ian
rallied for her. “Let’s get it done,” he said determinedly. He called to get
someone to do the repairs, but because there was so much devastation, work
crews were weeks out. Because of the delay, they also had to postpone their
trip west and reroute their journey because of weather conditions in some of
the mountainous areas.

“Why
can’t this just end?” she said, feeling thwarted and suddenly desperate to
leave again. She didn’t feel free. She felt helpless and beholden, just as she
had so many months ago. 

Another
week passed. Ian found a carpenter, thanks to a friend of a friend scenario,
and the closing was set for the latter half of the month. The end was in sight,
Kira thought hopefully. In the meantime, she helped friends and neighbors
recover from the storm.

Slowly
life returned to normal in the wake of the devastation, but Kira struggled with
frustration, disappointment, and an aching desire to get on with her life. She
felt pulled back into the slump she’d experienced so many months prior.

Then
one sunny day, as she and Ian took a stroll along the beach, she realized what
bothered her wasn’t Jeremy or sadness and loss at all.

“Impatience
and trying to control everything,” she said.

“Huh?”

 “That’s
what’s bothering me. I snap out of my present experience when I think about the
past or future. I’m not patient with time or letting things unfold. It’s not to
say I ought to let things just happen, but there’s a skill required to discern
between the two.”

“I
think you’re on to something,” Ian said. “Let it flow.”

They
continued their walk, Kira keenly aware of each footfall, wave, and breath as
she stopped dwelling on the past and analyzing and planning the future.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-One

 

Finally,
after exercising utmost patience, Ian and Kira packed the Mercedes, boards and
all. They left the truck behind for repairs they following summer.

After
signing the documents, with great flourish, Kira realized having the
satisfaction of doing it in person was worth enduring the storm and the waiting
game. She said farewell to the bad memories, the strife, and the heartbreak as
they departed, and she let each new moment unfold.

When
they pulled up to Winter’s house in Connecticut later that afternoon, her
little ones clung to her skirt while she held the baby in her arms.

“Aren’t
you a sight for sore eyes? You look a heck of a lot better than the last time I
saw you. The bags under your eyes are gone. That means you’re sleeping. But you
have a new boyfriend so things can’t be great if you’re getting that much
rest.”

Kira
shook her head at her. “Thanks. And you don’t look as fat as you did last time I
saw you.”

Winter
pursed her lips. “Post-partum and Girl Scout cookies are a dangerous thing.”

“Honesty.
Can’t take it, don’t dish it,” Kira said.

“You
don’t have to be mean.”

“And
you shouldn’t be teaching your kids to speak that way to their siblings.”

With
her free arm, Winter pulled Kira into a hug.

“I
missed you, Summer. Glad to have you back.”

With
their teasing out of the way and the hug acting like a release valve for the
children, one of them tugged on Kira’s arm. “Auntie Summer, come look at our
swing set.”

“Yeah,
push me first, please.”

Kira
skipped with them toward the backyard.

Ian,
hands in his pockets, followed, but Winter headed him off. Kira slowed her pace
to eavesdrop.

“Now,
I’m only going to tell you this once, I may be ample, have nearly a half dozen
children, but I’ve pushed most of them out myself, all natural, so I’m a tough
chick. Don’t you go messing with my sister’s heart. You hear me?”

Kira
continued walking, and they fell out of earshot. She felt sure with or without
Winter’s warning, Ian would be good to her.

After
a night in the crowded house, followed by a non-traditional Thanksgiving
fiesta, with Ian making enchiladas, quesadillas, and guacamole for everyone,
they stayed for one more day then got on the road to venture farther south to
see Nicole and Nate.

“So
Summer—” Ian started.

She
knew what was coming.

“Yes,
my name is Summer. Hippie parents remember. Born on the solstice and all that.
Winter, the same only, duh, winter.”

“That
accounts for her harsh demeanor,” he said joking. “I wasn’t going to give you a
hard time. But I thought you’d told me everything.”

“Well
not
every
thing. Where would the fun in that be?”

“Can
I call you Summer?”

“If
you wish,” Kira replied with a wink and a grin.

Once
in New York, Nicole instantly adored Ian. To the delight of the best friends,
the guys also hit it off. Nicole was due in another month; Kira promised to fly
out when Nate’s paternity leave ended to help cook, clean, and take care of
Nicole and baby July.

After
a few days, Kira and Ian left Manhattan, with the surfboards snug in their
socks, strapped to the roof, and the back of the Mercedes loaded with clothing,
computers, and Kira’s camera equipment.

With
the open road before them, Kira made a sound like, “Ohhhh.”

“Hmm?”
Ian said, keeping an eye on the traffic.

Inside,
there was a sudden lightening of the baggage she carried from her disappointing
childhood; a release of the heartbreak and anger caused by Jeremy. Space opened
in her chest. From there, a single word, capturing everything she felt about
Ian brightened. He interlaced his fingers in hers.

“I
think, no, I’m sure, I just let go, fully, completely,” she said softly, a
final tear evaporating as it edged its way out of the corner of her eye.

Like
the hurricane, after it gave her its worst and she lived through it, it was
gone. Poof. The dissatisfaction she’d had with herself, for trying to mold into
little miss perfect, along with the illusion of the perfect marriage dried up
and vanished.

The
troublesome ways she ignored her own inner truths and knowing, her dismay for
falling to pieces every time she was in the house on Lilac Court, all of those
emotions, in that single tear were gone. It all peeled away and in the center,
she discovered the beautiful, shining gem of truth.

“It’s
done,” Kira said with finality. She let out a deep breath. She’d let go and
moved on to freedom.

They
filled the trip across the vast expanse of the US with hiking and sightseeing,
loads of photos of just about everything, made love in every state they
crossed, and camped. However, after Kira found hairy, giant spiders in the
cabin, she reinstated her no camping policy. She couldn’t expect to change
everything about herself.

“Next
time, no camping and no road food,” Kira said crumpling an empty bag of fries,
her stomach queasy.

Somewhere
around New Mexico, Kira decided she’d submit some of her prints to a gallery
when they’d settled in California. They also discussed the possibility of
opening a surf shop of their own.

“Let’s
call it Live Free and Surf,” Kira suggested, thinking fondly of Jamie, no
longer harboring resentment. “You could sell your boards and there’d be a café.
I don’t think I can live without the Boardroom’s muffins and cookies, we’ll
have to get the recipes, along with the usual surf gear.” They bounced ideas
off each other as they traveled.

“We’ll
offer surf lessons and leave the organizing and decorating to you,” Ian said.

 As
uncounted miles passed beneath their tires, they brainstormed loads of
possibilities for the shop. With Kira’s business acumen and generous bank
account, she seriously considered pursuing it. But for the time being, simply
being with Ian was enough.

They
crossed into California on a sunny afternoon. Starving, but still with a
distance to travel and in the middle of nowhere, they pulled into what Kira
vowed would the last fast food stop, ever.

“Next
time we go across, we’re picnicking, stopping at farm stands, food coops,
anything but this,” Kira said in protest at the smell of fry oil.

However,
they wanted to make it to the coast before it got dark, so they reluctantly
pulled into the drive-thru. Ian rolled down the window and placed the order
while Kira daydreamed out the window, gazing at a rolling field just beyond the
parking lot. Geese peppered the long, tawny grass. She grabbed her camera and
angled to get them in the frame, but something moved in a box, discarded, next
to the dumpster.

Ian
paid for the bag of food and started to pull away.

“Wait,
hang on,” she said. “Pull over there. I just want to see something.” Kira got
out and cautiously approached the dumpster. A tuft of dark brown fur flashed
out of the box. Then a paw clawed at the edge. She peered in. A small brown
puppy, all alone, scratched at the sides, trying to get out.

Ian
appeared.

 “Someone
must have left it here. How terrible,” Kira said as he looked around to see if
there were any more puppies.

“What
are you doing?” he asked when Kira started taking photos.

“Taking
a picture.”

“Lost
puppy signs?”

Kira
shook her head as both she and the dog looked at him. Their brown eyes must
have worked their magic. “A baby book?” Kira suggested.

“Really?”
Ian asked.

“Please?”

He
bent over and picked the puppy up. Kira snapped another shot of him cuddling
her to his chest.

“Oh,
you’re smelly,” he said affectionately rubbing her ears as Kira clicked away.

Kira
went inside and asked the kid behind the counter if he knew anything about a
puppy by the dumpster, but he looked at her blankly. No one else had a clue.

“She’s
ours,” Kira cheerfully announced when she returned to the car. She pulled a
towel from one of the bags in the back and wrapped the puppy up in it. “What
will we call her?”

“Let’s
avoid any fast food connotations,” Ian said, his stomach rumbling in distress.
He pulled out of the lot, back to the highway.

 “How
about Jewel?” Kira suggested recalling the glittering sun dancing on the waves
back home.

He
tilted his head and nodded. “I like it. Jewel it is,” Ian said agreeing.

When
they finally pulled into Sausalito, the streetlights popped on. The houseboat,
docked along with others, awaited them in the marina below the parking area.
From where Kira stood, they looked like small houses backed right up to the
ocean, the docks running like footpaths between them. Christmas lights sparkled
on the water as she held Jewel close, Ian leading the way.

“Here
we are. Home sweet home.” Ian took Jewel from Kira’s arms and put her inside.
“I’m not sure what you think of the whole threshold thing, or marriage for that
matter, but I’d love to pick you up and carry you over. But I don’t think
that’s our style. So I thought we could just walk in together. Hand in hand.
Partners. This is your home now too.”

Warmed
by the sentiment and Ian’s propensity for romance, Kira was glad he understood
that getting married wasn’t exactly at the top of her agenda. Not that she had
one anymore. One thing was for sure, Kira loved Ian like she’d never loved
anyone else. For her, that was as good as a ring around her finger.

They
walked in the houseboat, their fingers interlaced, with the little puppy
nipping at their feet. Kira and Ian settled her down with food, water, and her
towel. Ian and Kira collapsed into the bed.

“Whatcha
thinking?” Ian said sleepily.

“I
never expected to be sleeping and living on the water.”

“I
never expected that I’d love someone as much as I do you,” he replied.

She
snuggled close to him.

“Me
neither. I love you too,” Kira whispered, letting the word out at last, just
before she drifted to sleep.

***

The
next few days they spent unpacking and taking care of Jewel, but when the dust
settled, they loaded up their boards and headed to the beach.

Ian
directed Kira to the first break he’d ever surfed, but said the waves weren’t
good that day. While they drove to the next spot, he told her about his early
days surfing there with his grandfather and his dad.

“It’s
in your blood then?” she asked.

“We’re
water people. My father’s from here, the Pacific coast, my mother from the
Atlantic.”

“When
I went to college for journalism and English Lit inland, those were the
toughest years of my life. My roommate and friends thought I was nuts for
surfing, but it’s as if my body requires the salt water. I can’t explain it
really, but the ocean is
in
my blood. That much I’m sure of.”

They
continued to another spot Ian said might be promising, but the water lapped the
sand, with no sizable waves. Then a third, though they couldn’t quite see the
spot from the parking area.

“Stay
here; I’ll go check it out.”

Kira
breathed in the salt air. After nearly five minutes, he returned, wearing a
huge, dimpled smile on his face.

“Perfect.
Let’s go.” They got the boards down from the roof, put their wetsuits on, and
followed a well-trodden path down toward the sand. The waves looked great. Kira
was eager to get in after the last few chilled forays back east and the long
waterless journey across the country.

When
the soft sand turned to wet hard pack from the tide, Kira noticed a ring of
salt spray roses, poppies, daisies, and seashells a few paces away. Ian stopped
by her side. In the center, someone had written something in the sand. Kira
read it.

Please
say yes.

Ian
turned to her.

“I
love you. I know getting married isn’t on your mind. But I want to be together
with you.” He pulled out a silver necklace strung with a piece of polished blue
sea glass and a shell pendant. “This is a symbol of our union. Our relationship
was born out of the treasures of the ocean. My pledge to you is always to be
honest and true. I love you Summer Kira Speranza. Will you wear this necklace
and promise me the same?” Kira threw her arms around him, and they kissed, lips
melting together on that private stretch of beach.

“I
love you too. Always.”

Ian
clasped the necklace as she held her hair up. With the sun high overhead and
her soul aglow, Kira clutched her surfboard under her arm. She linked her other
arm with Ian’s, and they stepped into the ocean.

 

 

 

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