“You would love her. Everyone does.”
They sat there quietly and the space between them crackled with electricity. Minnow could taste it on her tongue, the way she couldtaste a storm coming. Luke Greenwood was rubbing off on her, sure as the pull of the moon. So what if she had sworn off men for a while? Maybe she should make an exception in his case.
“Which park was your father at?” she asked.
“San Juan Island Historic.”
“So your family lived out there?”
“We did. Friday Harbor.”
“What a place to grow up.”
“Have you been?”
“No, but it’s on my bucket list,” she said. “To swim with the orcas, that would be a dream.”
Just thinking about the frigid water of the West Coast made her shiver. There was a different kind of beauty there. Cold and fog, giant beds of kelp, towering evergreen forests edging up against placid inlets or lashing, angry seas. For a moment she thought of Max on the Farallones but quickly squashed that. Max was past, and she wanted to live only in the present. Luke sat quietly, staring out at the warm Pacific just beyond their toes.
“There’s something about islands, isn’t there?” Minnow finally said.
“They are magic, for sure.”
“I grew up on Catalina Island––until I was seven. I loved it there.”
“Tell me about it. I’ve never been.”
And so she did. All of it. Luke slowly drew closer to her, the way a plant tilts toward the sun, until she could feel his shoulder against hers. His touch somehow made it feel safe to let her past unspool into the evening. There was no expectation in it either.
“Will you ever go back?” he asked. “To live, I mean.”
“No. Too much sadness.”
“Makes sense. And I’m sorry for what happened. No one should have to live through that.”
She shook her head. “No one.”
“You didn’t let it defeat you, though. Look at what you’ve made of your life.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
He leaned in. “Aside from all those letters behind your name, it looks like you’ve found your place in this world and you’re willing to fight for it. I’d own that if I were you.”
She nudged him. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll work on it. But back to you and the orca... Now your tattoo makes sense. I’m guessing you’ve been in the water with them?”
“Hard not to up there. The resident pods you kind of get to know.”
“Top of the food chain,” she said.
“Yes and a whole lot more. Did you know the SRKW population is matrilineal, and they have their own dialect?”
His tone reminded her of herself when talking sharks. Confident, knowledgeable, enamored.
“SRKW?” she asked.
“Southern resident killer whale.”
“Ah, right. No, I didn’t. And is that a genetically distinct population?”
