cuteness. “Hard to imagine you not being good at everything.”
The compliment hit him cold and he looked to the fire. “I’m far from perfect, Zoe.”
“I never said you were perfect. Just capable. Extremely capable.”
He had no business feeling pride from her compliment, but he did anyway. “I am a handyman.”
“Good thing, too, for me,” she replied with a grin that made his pride stand at attention. “Otherwise the bats and I would be roommates. However…” She leaned over and, taking his hand, adjusted the angle of his skewer. “That doesn’t change the fact that you can’t cook over a fire.”
Jake’s skin tingled where she touched him. He found himself contemplating lowering the skewer again so she’d repeat the action.
“You’re in good company, by the way,” she toldhim. “When my father burned the marshmallows, he claimed the flame added flavor, too.”
“See? Great minds think alike.”
Jake fell silent. The beach was empty now, the locals having gone home for the evening. Only he, Zoe and the dachshund remained.
He looked at the fire. It felt strange, seeing flames without destruction. But here, watching the sparks rise and fade into the night, it was almost— almost —possible to imagine a more innocent time. Before everything turned dark and painful.
It was Zoe, he decided. Her enthusiasm and energy trumped everything around her. Odd, but what he’d first found incredibly annoying, tonight he found amazingly calming.
Looking over, he noticed she was lost in thought, she, too, focusing her attention on the fire. Shadows moved across her face like dancing clouds.
“Would you mind if I asked you a personal question?” she asked.
Jake’s spine stiffened.
“Did you ever think that somewhere in life you took a wrong turn?”
Of all the questions she could ask, that wasn’t one he expected. Every damn day, he wanted to say. “This is about the ex, isn’t it?”
“Paul?” She shook her head. “No. Maybe a little. It’s just that I can’t help but wonder how I ended up where I am in life.”
“You mean divorced?”
“My divorce, my career, everything. I mean, I like what I do, but lately…” She lifted her shoulders in a sad shrug as if the gesture alone was enough to fill in her thoughts. “It’s like I’m out of step with the universe. Know what I mean? Like the universe is sending me signals and I’m missing the meaning.”
“What kind of signals?”
“Beats the hell out of me. Don’t fall for a needy golf pro?” She gave another hollow laugh. He hated the sound. It lodged heavily in his gut, like lead. He sought to change the subject, hoping at least one of them could shake the encroaching despair.
“How do you become an advice expert anyway?” he asked. It was something he’d wondered since she’d told him what she did.
“My college newspaper used to have a column and when the writer graduated, I volunteered for the position. I enjoyed it so much that after graduation I decided to see if I could keep it going. I started with a blog, and voilà, ‘Ask Zoe’ was born. All because I wanted to be useful.”
“Useful?” Sounded like an odd word choice.
“Helpful,” she corrected, brushing sand from her legs. Not, however, before he caught a flash of something in her eyes. “I like being helpful.”
Making her the target for every sad story that came along.
“Anyway, I’m being maudlin.” She broke off apiece of hot dog and tossed it to Reynaldo. “That’s the downside of being nostalgic. For every memory, you get a matching what-if.”
And for every what-if, you got ten more. Then a hundred. Until eventually you have so many regrets and what-ifs you can hardly breathe from the weight. Jake heaved a sigh. The contentment he’d felt earlier, however slight, vanished, replaced by the familiar weight of guilt.
Did you really think you could escape yourself?
He stared into the flames. At the red-orange tongues. Just like Zoe
The compliment hit him cold and he looked to the fire. “I’m far from perfect, Zoe.”
“I never said you were perfect. Just capable. Extremely capable.”
He had no business feeling pride from her compliment, but he did anyway. “I am a handyman.”
“Good thing, too, for me,” she replied with a grin that made his pride stand at attention. “Otherwise the bats and I would be roommates. However…” She leaned over and, taking his hand, adjusted the angle of his skewer. “That doesn’t change the fact that you can’t cook over a fire.”
Jake’s skin tingled where she touched him. He found himself contemplating lowering the skewer again so she’d repeat the action.
“You’re in good company, by the way,” she toldhim. “When my father burned the marshmallows, he claimed the flame added flavor, too.”
“See? Great minds think alike.”
Jake fell silent. The beach was empty now, the locals having gone home for the evening. Only he, Zoe and the dachshund remained.
He looked at the fire. It felt strange, seeing flames without destruction. But here, watching the sparks rise and fade into the night, it was almost— almost —possible to imagine a more innocent time. Before everything turned dark and painful.
It was Zoe, he decided. Her enthusiasm and energy trumped everything around her. Odd, but what he’d first found incredibly annoying, tonight he found amazingly calming.
Looking over, he noticed she was lost in thought, she, too, focusing her attention on the fire. Shadows moved across her face like dancing clouds.
“Would you mind if I asked you a personal question?” she asked.
Jake’s spine stiffened.
“Did you ever think that somewhere in life you took a wrong turn?”
Of all the questions she could ask, that wasn’t one he expected. Every damn day, he wanted to say. “This is about the ex, isn’t it?”
“Paul?” She shook her head. “No. Maybe a little. It’s just that I can’t help but wonder how I ended up where I am in life.”
“You mean divorced?”
“My divorce, my career, everything. I mean, I like what I do, but lately…” She lifted her shoulders in a sad shrug as if the gesture alone was enough to fill in her thoughts. “It’s like I’m out of step with the universe. Know what I mean? Like the universe is sending me signals and I’m missing the meaning.”
“What kind of signals?”
“Beats the hell out of me. Don’t fall for a needy golf pro?” She gave another hollow laugh. He hated the sound. It lodged heavily in his gut, like lead. He sought to change the subject, hoping at least one of them could shake the encroaching despair.
“How do you become an advice expert anyway?” he asked. It was something he’d wondered since she’d told him what she did.
“My college newspaper used to have a column and when the writer graduated, I volunteered for the position. I enjoyed it so much that after graduation I decided to see if I could keep it going. I started with a blog, and voilà, ‘Ask Zoe’ was born. All because I wanted to be useful.”
“Useful?” Sounded like an odd word choice.
“Helpful,” she corrected, brushing sand from her legs. Not, however, before he caught a flash of something in her eyes. “I like being helpful.”
Making her the target for every sad story that came along.
“Anyway, I’m being maudlin.” She broke off apiece of hot dog and tossed it to Reynaldo. “That’s the downside of being nostalgic. For every memory, you get a matching what-if.”
And for every what-if, you got ten more. Then a hundred. Until eventually you have so many regrets and what-ifs you can hardly breathe from the weight. Jake heaved a sigh. The contentment he’d felt earlier, however slight, vanished, replaced by the familiar weight of guilt.
Did you really think you could escape yourself?
He stared into the flames. At the red-orange tongues. Just like Zoe
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