He’s a doctor who takes care of kids with cancer! Promising, right? Robbie checked him out and he’s a real person, so don’t worry. I matched with him on the app. Robbie says we’re ninety-seven percent compatible so I’m sure a marriage proposal isn’t far away. LOL. Thanks for agreeing to stay with the kids. I owe you.
Grady
I love spending time with them. It’s not a chore, so you don’t owe me anything.
Esme
I was almost hoping you’d say you were busy so I wouldn’t have to go. But I have to be brave or my life’s never going to change for the better.
Grady
I’m sure it’ll go great. He’ll fall madly in love with you the moment he meets you.
Esme
Unlikely but you're sweet to say so. Meanwhile I'm drowning in the Morrison wedding this week. Eighty centerpieces, twenty boutonnières, and a partridge in a pear tree.
Grady
You need help?
Sometimes, in a pinch, I’d help her out at the shop so she wouldn’t have to pay someone.
Esme
I’m okay. I think. But I’ll let you know.
Grady
You've got this.
Esme
I hope so. Okay, heading to the shop. Talk later?
Grady
Always.
Esme
One more thing. Do you think the doctor guy will think I’m dumb? I didn’t even finish college.
Grady
If he thinks so then he’s not the guy for you. Everyone who meets you knows immediately how smart you are.
Esme had left college when she got pregnant with Robbie. She’d been studying botany. After her divorce, she’d gone to work at the local flower shop. Not long after, the original owner had retired and Esme had bought the shop and the building from her. It had taken every amount of savings she had to do so, and the mortgage was too high for what she brought in, but she kept plugging away.
And now she had a date. Whether it was this guy or not, I knew deep down I must brace myself for the inevitable. She would marry someone else. Who could compete with a doctor, anyway? One who cured kids with cancer. He was the type women like Esme married. A man worthy of her, most likely.
I turned back to the ocean, forcing my focus away from Esme and to my oldest friend, the sea. Waves rose and fell in steady rhythm, the light shifting as the sun climbed higher. I rolled my shoulders, grounding myself in the familiar weight of the wetsuit, the quiet pull of the tide.
The water surged a little stronger than before. One wave in particular began to rise farther out, taller and faster than the rest. My senses went on high alert. That wave was too tall and too fast, one that could easily pull an unsuspecting victim out to sea.
I glanced up and down the beach. An elderly man was walking along the shoreline with a large golden retriever, the dogtrotting happily beside him, nose to the sand. They were close to shore, waves crashing only inches from their feet. They seemed oblivious to what was headed their way.
The wave broke hard and fast, surging up the beach. I dropped my board and started running as the water slammed into the man’s legs, knocking him off balance. The dog yelped as the leash went taut, paws skidding uselessly in the wet sand. In seconds, both of them were down, dragged backward by the retreating wave.
