The Death Date

chapter eight

Fiesta Island Dog Park was teeming with dogs of all shapes and sizes. The Island was just off the coast and tucked inside an inlet with Point Loma enclosing it from the far west. It was split into two sections, one part for dogs and the other used strictly as a beach and was accessible only by bridge. It attracted many people, locals and tourists alike; however, the dog park tended to include many more locals for obvious reasons.

Vi had been hesitant about meeting Meghan; she wasn't a big advocate of change, especially since visiting the dog park on the Island was something of a weekend ritual for Vi and me. Although, after assuring her Meghan wasn't loud or obnoxious, and that she didn't have a deep-rooted hatred for birds (as far I knew, at least), Vi had agreed.

She was standing along the front of the park entrance – our usual meeting spot – with dogs weaving around her. My flips flops smacked against my heels as I skidded around a poodle. With her black hair pulled into a tight ponytail, she donned a pair of jean shorts, an ocean blue tank top, and, although it wasn't visible to the naked eye, a one-piece swimsuit in black. This was her beach outfit, and it never altered. Vi was consistent, and I would forever love her for it.

"You're late," she said.

I grinned and stopped beside her. "Parking was a nightmare."

"Is Meghan here yet?" she asked, and it was laced with the tiniest bit of uncertainty.

"I haven't heard from her, but she knows where to meet us."

Vi nodded. "I brought sunscreen in case you and Meghan need any."

"Thanks, Vi."

A woman with a large dog dashed in front of us, and, after she left my field of vision, Meghan suddenly appeared. She lifted her pale hand in a wave. Rays of sunshine settled onto her loose, dark hair bringing out glints of auburn.

"Hey, Delia." After reaching us, she set her gaze on Vi. "You must be Vi. I'm Meghan."

Vi didn't make eye contact but nodded in her direction. I had made sure to inform Meghan that Vi didn't like physical contact, which meant no handshakes or the like. "Nice to meet you," she said.

"So, this is the famous Fiesta Island, then?" Meghan scanned her surroundings.

"The one and only," I said.

Vi took over from here. "Fiesta Island refers to the entire Island, but we're on the side that encloses the dog park. The other side is just for people who want to stay at the beach. You can still have your dogs, but they can't be off leash like they are here. Delia and I prefer the dog beach side, but it does smell bad because of all the dogs doing their business."

Meghan chuckled heartily, a sound that was almost warmer than the sunshine. "Good to know. I think I prefer the dog side too." Her laugh faded into a smile as a small, black dog with its tongue nearly scraping the sandy ground trotted towards her. Meghan leaned down and scratched its head.

"Do you like dogs?" Vi asked.

"Love them."

"What about birds?"

Meghan turned towards Vi. "I like birds too."

Vi's body stiffened. "Do you know anything about hummingbirds? We have three native species in San Diego – the Anna's, Allen's, and Costa's hummingbird."

"Go on. Tell me all about them," Meghan said without a hint of derision.

The three of us then began our trek along the rim of the beach, with me careful to avoid close contact with anyone else as the ocean waves exhaled onto our feet every so often. Despite the warm day, the Pacific Ocean was cool, the contrast refreshing. Vi spared no time relaying all information about the three types of native hummingbirds. I had heard the spiel so many times, I was sure I could have retold it word for word. But, as Vi continued, and Meghan asked follow-up questions, I walked by the two in silence. Vi's passion was hummingbirds, and I was certain she would end up taking pictures of them in some distant land for National Geographic.