"Stevie," I almost choke, my heart pounding as I stare at her. Her hair's wild, a little lighter and her skin's a little darker. A black satin robe falls just above her knees, the sash hanging loosely from her waist. She still manages to take my breath away.
"Why are you here?" She looks at me flatly, and I realize that I have no idea what I should say. I didn't think this far. Karen disappears out the back door, and suddenly I'm alone with her. She doesn't run. She doesn't yell at me or start to cry. We're off to a good start.
"I wanted to see you," I say honestly. Maybe not the whole story, but I don't know how much I should tell her. Karen stuck her neck out to get me here. Not that she won't figure out who told me.
She doesn't respond for a minute, tilting her head and looking at me cautiously. I used to be able to read her mind. I used to know exactly what she was thinking, even before she thought it. Right now, though, I don't trust those instincts at all, and I stand there and let her take as much time as she needs. After a long silence, I see tears start to spill down her face, her shoulders shaking a little as she tries to control her sobs. I open my arms and she walks into them, clinging to my shirt as she lets me hold her. I rest my chin on her head and close my eyes, letting my own tears spill down my cheeks.
"I'm sorry," she says, her voice breathy, her face still buried in my chest.
"Can we talk?"
"No," she says, gripping me even more tightly. She holds on for what feels like forever, but I'm certainly not going to be the first one to move. She smells like the ocean and coconut, and I allow myself to breathe her in, my mind starting to wander to dangerous places.
She finally lets go and turns away from me, making her way over to the stove to turn on a pot of tea. "Did you just get here?"
"Early this morning. We walked around for a while, then I tried to sleep on your couch."
"There's a room," she gestures.
"Why Venice?" I have to get her to tell me something. I have a thousand questions I've rehearsed, a thousand things I need to know, but I know she won't answer them. Not yet.
She shrugs nonchalantly, not bothering to look up. "Paris didn't have the sea."
I want to yell at her for leaving me. I want to lay into her and scream at her for taking off again. For fleeing the country when I could have helped her. I could have loved her. But all I can do is watch her, letting silence linger there while I scramble for words. "Los Angeles does," I say, knowing the statement is loaded. She shoots me a look I don't understand, then puts a cup of tea in front of me. "Where's Brie?"
"She's home in Los Angeles with friends for a few weeks. She'll be back soon."
I nod my acknowledgement, taking a sip of tea and studying her. "Stevie..."
"Don't." She stops me before I even start. "Come to the beach with me," she says, pulling her robe off to reveal a bathing suit beneath it. she grabs a bag and looks at me expectantly, not giving me any room for argument. Not that I was going to argue. It's been 20 years since she's worn a bikini around me, but she looks damn good in it. I guess the relative anonymity has emboldened her a little.
I follow her down the back steps, which land directly on the sand. She pulls out a blanket and lays it out, spraying herself with sunscreen before she puts her sunglasses on and lays down. I sit beside her, looking at my surroundings, realizing that we're on a private beach. I can't see anyone at all.
"This is beautiful."
"I know."
"You're beautiful," I venture, which gets her to prop herself up on her elbows and looks at me over the top of her sunglasses. She watches me for a minute, then smirks and lays back down, one knee bent as the rest of her stretches out on the blanket. Why can I stop looking at her? She knows I'm looking at her.
"Lindsey, I don't know what you want."
"I... what? What do you mean?"
"Things are different now, you know."
"Obviously."
"I haven't seen anyone at all. No one but Brie and Karen. I don't want to talk or explain anything. I don't... I'm a terrible person."
"Oh, baby," I say, and I resist the urge to pull her into my arms, not ready to push my luck. "What are you talking about?"
She just shakes her head, staring out at the water. "No one bothers me here. No one ever even comes on this beach. I own all of this," she says, gesturing lazily, not looking at me.
"Why did you go?" I can't resist anymore. I have to ask her.
She pauses for a while, still staring out at the sea, and I know she's actively avoiding eye contact. "I didn't know what to do, Lindsey. Running to you after he died just felt... I guess I would have felt like I was cheating. I needed time. I loved him."
"You didn't have to leave the country."
"I did, honey. Everything in me wanted to be with you. I wasn't strong enough to be around you."
"I would have given you whatever space you needed," I tell her, and I mean it. "You can't keep leaving me." I hate how vulnerable I sound, but she finally turns to look at me, sliding her sunglasses onto her head. She's finally looking me in the eye, and I can see her mind racing. "Will you fucking say something?"
"I have spent the last two years crying every single day because you weren't with me."
"I would have been!" I feel my voice rising with my frustration and she holds her hand up to quiet me.
"Let me finish, Lindsey!" She's annoyed with my outburst, but I don't care. "We fuck everything up. I loved John and now he's gone. You are the only person that ever..." She pauses, trying to compose herself. "You're the only person that I ever loved more than him. The thought of losing you when we inevitably screw everything up again was too much for me."
"You didn't want to lose me." She nodded. "So that's why you left me?" I try to point out the absurdity of her argument but she's crying now and I don't have the heart to push her.
"We spent that first summer in Paris. Brie didn't want to leave school, so we came back for a few months, but I couldn't handle it. For Christmas, I dragged her to London, and she finished the school year there. Then I came here. She went and stayed with Lori and Jessi and graduated in LA, but I just... I can't leave here. I can't see anyone, I can't answer those questions. I just write."
"You can't hide here forever."
"Why not?"
"You just can't! Dammit, Stevie," I let my irritation show, running my hands through my hair nervously. This could blow up in my face. "John died and that's horrible and probably the hardest thing you'll have to go through. But you're still only 50. You've got decades ahead of you and you want more of your life than this."
She looks at me and processes what I've said for a minute before getting up and walking to the edge of the water. I watch her walk away from me for a minute before I scramble after her. She takes my hand and leads me out into the water, and I can't take my eyes off of her. "Stop looking at me."
"No."
She turns around and we stare at each other. She looks slightly thrown by my attention, but I don't care. "I'm not sure what to do with you being here."
"You've never wanted to be alone in your life. You surround yourself with people. You aren't happy locked away by yourself. And you have absolutely no reason to run away from me."
"What if..."
"What if we finally get it right?"
I can tell I'm getting through to her, and she takes a step toward me, resting her arms on my shoulders. My arms instinctively circle her waist, and pull her closer, and without giving myself a chance to overthink it, I kiss her. She reacts instantly, tightening her arms around my neck and pushing herself up onto her toes. I can't bring myself to break the kiss, my hands roaming across her back and up and down her waist as I hold her against me, trying to make her remember.
She finally breaks the kiss, but wraps her arms around me and hugs me. "You'll stay?"
My mind starts running through logistics. I have an album to finish. One look down into those eyes eliminates any hesitation I could possibly have. "As long as you need me to."
