like the wind had been knocked out of me. “I just love my sons.”
We turned off the main road and onto 3rd. “So then do you keep up on Facebook with what they are doing while they’re with their father?”
“Uh . . . no. I don’t have an account.”
“What? Well, hon, let me get you set up later on, okay? You need to keep up with your boys. Especially these days.”
I smiled at the older woman. “Will you?” I asked. “I honestly hadn’t thought of getting an account to keep up with them.”
Patsy looked out her window. “Land, will you look at that sunset. Downright romantic.” She grinned at me. “Nothing personal, darlin’, but I sure wish you were a man right now.”
We laughed together as I turned off 3rd and onto G Street. By the time we reached 2nd and G, a few cars were parked along the Gulf side of the road so I slid into place behind the last. Patsy opened her door and slung her legs out. “Now, listen. I can’t walk up to 1st, but you go on ahead. That’s where all the locals like to gather. I’m just gonna sit right here and take my pictures.”
I looked toward the place where I knew most of the people would be standing. I’d hoped to see Maddie and her friend there. “I hate to leave you here . . .”
“You’re not leaving me,” Patsy said. “I’m kicking you out.”
I opened the door. “Can I leave my purse here then?”
“Of course.” Patsy looked around as she said, “Where’s your camera?”
My chest tightened. “I left it at home.”
She turned back toward the Gulf. “I’ll have to share some of mine with you then.”
I nodded then stepped out of the car.
The air was thick. Heavy. The skin of my arms and legs became clammy. But the scene before me was beautiful. I watched as locals ambled from their homes across the street, many of them with a glass in their hands. They chatted with each other like old friends . . . and I was sure most of them were. This was the time of night when work had ceased. The calming of day. A time when, like the sun on the water, reflections could be made without fear.
The sun sunk lower toward a line of trees marking where Cedar Key attempted to wrap around itself. Low-lying clouds turned gold and hung like a net over the glistening water. Beneath them several gulls swooped as they called out. Though I wanted to walk on ahead in hopes of finding Maddie, I found myself unable to move, mesmerized by painted nature.
“I thought that was you.”
Startled, I turned in the direction of the voice. A man stood shadowed only a few yards to my left. “I’m sorry?”
“Kimberly, right?”
I squinted. With the distance between us I could only make out his build—tall and muscular—and the dark crop of his hair. He wore tan shorts, an untucked short-sleeved shirt, and Birkenstocks.
When I still said nothing, he added, “Kimberly-Boo?”
Struck with fear, I managed, “Who are you?”
He took a step forward. The scent of expensive cologne and Gulf water met me before he said, “You don’t remember your old island buddy, I suppose.”
My breath came ragged as my heart skipped. Could it be? “Steven?”
Another two steps and I could see his face. He’d changed over the years. Blond streaks had grown dark brown. The boyish features had given way to a man’s. Then they’d been soft; now he seemed handsomely chiseled. The brow was naturally furrowed and eyes less carefree. But the impish grin hadn’t been stolen by time. That alone remained. “One and the same.”
“I . . .”
“Don’t know what to say?”
“Quite frankly, no.”
Now he stood directly before me. And when he smiled I saw the young man I’d fallen so giddily in love with as a teenage girl. “I thought I saw you today from Dad’s boat. Wasn’t that you walking near the marina? I waved . . .”
“That was you on the boat?”
“Yep. That was me. You waved back so I thought . . .”
I laughed lightly. “I thought you were some
We turned off the main road and onto 3rd. “So then do you keep up on Facebook with what they are doing while they’re with their father?”
“Uh . . . no. I don’t have an account.”
“What? Well, hon, let me get you set up later on, okay? You need to keep up with your boys. Especially these days.”
I smiled at the older woman. “Will you?” I asked. “I honestly hadn’t thought of getting an account to keep up with them.”
Patsy looked out her window. “Land, will you look at that sunset. Downright romantic.” She grinned at me. “Nothing personal, darlin’, but I sure wish you were a man right now.”
We laughed together as I turned off 3rd and onto G Street. By the time we reached 2nd and G, a few cars were parked along the Gulf side of the road so I slid into place behind the last. Patsy opened her door and slung her legs out. “Now, listen. I can’t walk up to 1st, but you go on ahead. That’s where all the locals like to gather. I’m just gonna sit right here and take my pictures.”
I looked toward the place where I knew most of the people would be standing. I’d hoped to see Maddie and her friend there. “I hate to leave you here . . .”
“You’re not leaving me,” Patsy said. “I’m kicking you out.”
I opened the door. “Can I leave my purse here then?”
“Of course.” Patsy looked around as she said, “Where’s your camera?”
My chest tightened. “I left it at home.”
She turned back toward the Gulf. “I’ll have to share some of mine with you then.”
I nodded then stepped out of the car.
The air was thick. Heavy. The skin of my arms and legs became clammy. But the scene before me was beautiful. I watched as locals ambled from their homes across the street, many of them with a glass in their hands. They chatted with each other like old friends . . . and I was sure most of them were. This was the time of night when work had ceased. The calming of day. A time when, like the sun on the water, reflections could be made without fear.
The sun sunk lower toward a line of trees marking where Cedar Key attempted to wrap around itself. Low-lying clouds turned gold and hung like a net over the glistening water. Beneath them several gulls swooped as they called out. Though I wanted to walk on ahead in hopes of finding Maddie, I found myself unable to move, mesmerized by painted nature.
“I thought that was you.”
Startled, I turned in the direction of the voice. A man stood shadowed only a few yards to my left. “I’m sorry?”
“Kimberly, right?”
I squinted. With the distance between us I could only make out his build—tall and muscular—and the dark crop of his hair. He wore tan shorts, an untucked short-sleeved shirt, and Birkenstocks.
When I still said nothing, he added, “Kimberly-Boo?”
Struck with fear, I managed, “Who are you?”
He took a step forward. The scent of expensive cologne and Gulf water met me before he said, “You don’t remember your old island buddy, I suppose.”
My breath came ragged as my heart skipped. Could it be? “Steven?”
Another two steps and I could see his face. He’d changed over the years. Blond streaks had grown dark brown. The boyish features had given way to a man’s. Then they’d been soft; now he seemed handsomely chiseled. The brow was naturally furrowed and eyes less carefree. But the impish grin hadn’t been stolen by time. That alone remained. “One and the same.”
“I . . .”
“Don’t know what to say?”
“Quite frankly, no.”
Now he stood directly before me. And when he smiled I saw the young man I’d fallen so giddily in love with as a teenage girl. “I thought I saw you today from Dad’s boat. Wasn’t that you walking near the marina? I waved . . .”
“That was you on the boat?”
“Yep. That was me. You waved back so I thought . . .”
I laughed lightly. “I thought you were some
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