Piper wouldn’t risk her job or her good standing with her boss. It’s not as if she sneaks into the park to cause trouble. The reverence she has for the product of her parents’ hard work is the same as what someone else might feel for a monument or a church.
As far as she’s concerned, the Marine Conservation Park is hallowed ground.
She’s halfway down the block, and I’m vacillating like a moron.
I take off after her.
Piper
I’m surprised he’s following me. He’s so good, so principled.
And I’m inconsiderate. Untrustworthy. A pain in the ass.
Just ask my sister.
I want confirmation of Henry’s commitment. I want him to want me, even when I’m challenging. Tati would say I’m testing him. She’d tell me this is wrong, both sneaking into the park and making Henry prove himself.
Though, look. He’s game.
I link my arm through his. We walk until we reach the Marine Conservation Park. The ticket queues are eerily quiet. The tall gate is closed to block the entrance. A chain is wrapped around it, secured with a padlock. Henry and I stop just short of the glow of a lamppost.
“Are we climbing?” he whispers.
“No. We’ll go around the back.” Taking his hand, I say, “Come on.”
We travel the park’s perimeter, moonlight and dim solar-powered bulbs illuminating our path. There’s a privacy fence lined with spiky shrubs. Orange signs that say KEEP OUT! PRIVATE PROPERTY! are posted on all the gates along the way. I catch Henry eyeing one apprehensively. Out on the sand, though, the warning signs disappear. There are breaks in the fence to make way for king palms nearly fifty feet tall. Those gaps are patched by rickety dune fencing that’s easy to breach.
I stop at my usual entry point and pull back the fence, making a space big enough for Henry to slip through. He hesitates, peering down the sand that runs adjacent to the park. “You’re sure this is a good idea?”
“Well. I never said it was.”
He gives me a dubious look. “Security cameras?”
“Not where we’re going.”
“Night patrol? Trainers? Vets who check in on the animals?”
“The patrolman—a physically unimpressive rent-a-cop—does his first walk-through at ten; now that he’s done, he won’t be back for hours. No vets or trainers until morning. After dark, the animals just sleep or swim.” I jiggle the fencing. “You’re not chickening out on me, are you?”
He expels a breath and steps through the gap and onto Sugar Bay Marine Conservation Park property. I follow close behind.
We walk along a little-used path, one that circles the park’s border and is well out of range of the security cameras. Eventually, we’ll end up at the manta ray exhibit, but first…
I stop and point at the ground, at a square of concrete differentfrom its neighbors.
My parents’ medallion.
“Whoa,” Henry says softly, stooping down for a closer look. He runs his fingers over my dad’s name, STEPHEN NIXON, and then my mom’s, CONSTANCE NIXON. He gazes up at me. “I didn’t notice this when I was here earlier.”
“Most people just walk right over it.”
“Does that bother you?”
“No, actually. It’s here for me and my sister and Turtle and everyone else who loved my mom and dad. We appreciate it. That’s what matters.”
“Now I appreciate it too,” he says, his voice steeped in fondness for two people he never got to meet. He rises, resting his hands on either side of my neck. He whispers, “I’m glad you showed me. Makes me feel like I know you better. Why you are who you are. Why you love what you love.”
“I’ve been exploring my options,” I tell him. “Like we talked about. Thinking about marine-focused majors. Considering schools.”
