He exhaled a dry laugh through his nose. “That’s not its real name.”
“Not officially,” she said. “But tell me one person over forty who’s ever spent a summer in Destin who calls it anything else.”
His gaze slid past her, toward the road. “They’re tearing it down.”
She choked. “They’re tearing down the Let Go Bridge?”
He nodded once. “Itisan eyesore, but still. There was a council meeting last week and it got put under ‘safety and infrastructure.’ Apparently, way too many teenagers jumping into the water is a liability nightmare.”
“Well, a lot of us did almost die.” At his amused look, she laughed. “It felt that way at sixteen, but seriously, isn’t it a historic landmark? Does sentimentality count for nothing these days?”
“In Destin? No, but I wanted to take one more look at it.”
“Me, too,” she said, motioning for him to keep walking. “If they’re going to erase it, I want pictures of it first.”
He hesitated, then fell into step beside her as she started down the drive.
They walked in companionable silence for a block before she said, “So. Holly.”
He shot her a look. “I take it you’ve never met her?”
“No, but she’s nice. I do remember that Peter once told me he wished their divorce hadn’t been acrimonious, so I guess this is a good place for them to…heal. Along with Connor.”
Eli shot one more look, this one skeptical and humorous. “I’m sure you two will be great friends.”
“Shut it,” she muttered. “Peter and I broke things off, remember?”
“Mmm. I do. But…” But here she was, walking to the very bridge where once, many years ago, she’d tried to let him go. Obviously, the bridge had failed and so had she.
He didn’t say anything—Eli was too cool to press a point like that. But she had no such compunction with her brother.
“Have you heard from Kate?” she asked as they reached the marina, the scent of salt and fuel mixing in the air.
“Yeah, we text. Talked last night. She’s…”
“Busy with that grant stuff?” Vivien suggested when he didn’t finish.
“She’s working things out,” he said, as clear as mud.
“Eli.” She jabbed him with her elbow as they reached a roundabout and slipped into what had become a construction zone over the past year. They followed a chain-link fence that enclosed this section of a massive jetty.
“Working what things out?” she urged, not ready to let the subject die. “The grant issues or…the love issues?”
“Will you calm down?”
She laughed. “I’m serious. What is she working out?”
“We care about each other,” he said after a moment. “We do. But…some things don’t line up. And you can’t fix that with affection.”
Some things don’t line up.“You mean…your faith?”
“Yeah, obviously, we have different beliefs.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
Eli slid her a look. “Another way would be this,” he said. “I read the Bible every day and live my life grounded in a love of the Lord that I hope permeates my every action. She is a card-carrying, chemistry-loving Senior Research Scientist and Director of the Energy Storage Materials Lab who does not, cannot, and will not give credence to…religion.”
He said the last word as if he were echoing someone’s distaste for the subject.
