To the Beach and Back

Chapter Five

There are several things in life that I'm quite certain I will never do.

I will never go skydiving.

I will never eat sauerkraut because the pungent smell, alone, makes me nauseous. I will never wear a bikini and I will never swim in the ocean again after receiving the most painful sand enema ever from a wave that knocked me down and drug me to shore.

And as of thirty minutes ago, I never thought I'd be walking along Coastal Highway with my ex-husband's girlfriend.

As we stop at a crosswalk, I turn to check on Sadie, half-hoping she's distressed or unhappy, giving me a reason to turn around. But nope, she's a happy clam, eyes blissfully narrowed in the breeze, chin up and tongue-wagging, enjoying her new adventure.

And I really could use a drink.

Especially since Nick has yet to return my several texts.

Surely, he knew how upsetting it'd be, to see Allyse in the truck instead of him, dashing all of my ridiculous hopes that they had broken up ... that I thought we had a chance. He knows how much my mother was hurt on the day she met my father's new love at a funeral for a mutual friend.

Back then, I was a naive sixteen-year-old who didn't understand what was really going on, and how the real reason why Dad brought Cecilia is that he knew Mom wouldn't dare cause a scene at a funeral. I also didn't understand why Mom behaved so politely, a vision of ladylike perfection, pleasant, even, returning Cecilia's handshake with a cordial smile and showing no reaction to him wrapping an arm around her slender waist.

Now I know it was because she had no choice.

If she showed her anger, then she would appear to be the bitter, jealous, angry old wife. People would look at my father with sympathy, thinking his adulterous betrayal was justified. That he was the smart one after all for leaving weedy grounds for greener pastures.

Is that why I agreed to go with Allyse?

Because I didn't want to be the curmudgeonly old hag, too lost in bitter anger despite being divorced for over a year? Because I was afraid she'd call Nick, upset and teary-eyed over my rebuttal to her kind, peaceful offer?

Does Allyse know this? Did she know I'd have no choice but to say yes?

Is this nothing but a game to her, a joke she's playing?

This and a thousand other conflicting thoughts swarm my brain as we turn onto Herring Way, Allyse leading the way to the entrance pier with perfect posture, her tanned shoulders held back like a dancer. Sadie pulls at the leash after we park the wagon beside the bike racks, excited about her rare adventure as we stop at a stand to have our IDs checked - Allyse's because she looks to be in her early twenties, and me out of polite obligation.

"Shade or sun?" Allyse asks as we head down the main pier that's lined with benches and umbrellas, crisscrossing white lights swinging in the breeze above us. She points to a section of empty barstools, some in the shade, some with the afternoon sun blazing down on the yellow and orange vinyl.

"Shade," I answer, pausing as a young girl wearing a bikini top and tiny shorts cuts right in front of me, almost tripping over Sadie's leash. She laughs and then blows Sadie an apologetic kiss before joining her group who are lounging on colorful Adirondack chairs.

God, they're so young.

I remember being that young, heading to Ocean City with friends in a packed, run-down Chevy Impala, wearing no seat belts and passing a bottle of Boons Farm between us. We'd stay at the grimiest, dingiest hotels ever, but it didn't matter since we'd mostly pass out on the beach, sunburnt and laughing drunkenly while pointing at the stars above.