The Delivery Girl

56. Vacation

Julie

I stretch out on a beach chair under the warm, glowing sun. Around me, I hear the sounds of the crashing waves and leaves blowing in the wind. A pina colada sits on the small table next to my chair, untouched.

Despite being in the most relaxing setting imagineable, I find myself worrying.

This is nice, but in less than a week, my perfect little vacation bubble will burst and I'll have to face reality.

I look over at Callen lying on the chair beside mine. He doesn't seem very relaxed either. I see him glancing at his phone. He checks it every minute or so. The tense, tight look he gets while working stays plastered on his face.

I feel antsy too. Guilty, almost. I could be spending this time being productive. Maybe job hunting for backup options, taking some part time classes to make sure my skills stay sharp, helping out at the restaurant. Anything besides just laying here.

Suddenly, his words from earlier echo in my mind.

You deserve to be happy.

I reach over and turn his phone face down. "Relax," I say quietly.

He gives me a sheepish smile and slips his phone into his pocket. "Sorry... I guess I'm still getting used to this."

"Me too." I sit up. "Let's find something to do."

I dig through my bag and pull out my camera. I turn it on and stand up, my toes sinking into the warm sand. But, suddenly I freeze. A familiar wave of doubt crashes into me. What am I doing? I should be distancing myself from this, I shouldn't be clinging to something unrealistic. I sit down defeatedly.

"What's wrong?" Callen slowly eases himself onto my chair next to me. His injuries haven't fully healed yet, he always seems a bit tired but continues pushing through the discomfort.

"This is stupid," I mutter. "I'm not talented. I'm not a real photographer."

"Who cares about what a real photographer is?" He squeezes my hand.

"Maybe I do." My voice is small, hesitant. Like I don't believe myself.

He shakes his head. "Photograph what makes you feel something in your heart, what makes you happy. Not what you think people are expecting from you."

He doesn't need to say it, but I know he isn't talking about photography anymore. I give him a small smile, suddenly reassured. "Thanks Callen."

–

By the time we order our third glasses of wine, I realize I should've slowed down. I'm halfway through my second glass, and our appetizers haven't even arrived yet.

The colours around me feel brighter, the weight on my shoulders lighten, my feelings toward Callen are magnified.

"Gosh, this place is amazing...almost as amazing as you." I giggle.

Callen chuckles but waves the server over. He lowers his voice, probably hoping I won't hear him. "Please don't bring that third glass until we finish our mains." He pushes my water towards me. "Drink," he says sternly.

"Yes sir." I give him a wry smile.

His jaw twitches and he swallows. The look in his eyes tells me I'm paying for that later.

It takes a couple glasses of water and some bread, but I'm feeling more like myself by the time our mains arrive.

"This is beautiful," I say. The restaurant's rooftop patio gives us an amazing view of the ocean. The ripples of water glow white under the bright moonlight. "How did you find this place?"