The woman greets me with a wave. “I’m Summer. Welcome.”
I nod. “Good morning. Thank you, although, I’m not sure what I’m doing.”
She laughs. “You’ll do great. This is a beginner class.”
We roll out our mats and settle in. I lower myself onto mine carefully, head still a little fuzzy, body not quite sure what it thinks about stretching right now.
The class starts slowly. Breathing. Gentle movement. Summer’s voice is calm but playful, guiding without demanding.
At first, my mind fights it. Wants to wander. Wants to sprint. Wants to control something.
Then I look up.
The ocean stretches endlessly in front of me, sunlight dancing across the water. Waves rise and fall without asking permission. Without rushing. Without apologizing.
My breath starts to match their rhythm.
I wobble and laugh. I nearly tip over once, and Birdie squeezes my hand like we’re sharing a secret. No one is perfect, but everyone is relaxed and having fun.
By the end, my muscles hum, and my head feels clearer. Not fixed, but steadier and clearer. Wow. That was pretty amazing.
As we lie back on our mats, staring up at the sky, a quiet thought slips in. Maybe Icando this. Maybe Icanrebuild myself one day at a time, right here, with sand between my toes and nothing expected of me except showing up.
For the first time since I ran, that feels like it’s possible. Showing up feels easy.
6
Cal
“You headingover to see your mom today?” Jonah asks as he sits at the helm, like the ocean personally appointed him guardian of the Atlantic Ocean.
I glance at him. “Yeah, this afternoon.”
Jonah grunts in response, which is typical because he’s a man of few words.
The boat rocks beneath me, gentle and familiar. There’s something soothing about being out at sea, the wind and sun on us. Now I know why Jonah prefers it to land. At sixty years old, permanently grumpy, he’s somehow still revered by all of the people in Coconut Beach. In a way, he’s like my mom, Carly, who keeps to herself. They love their solitude.
We fish in silence for a while. Jonah pretends he doesn’t like my company, but I know he looks forward to our weekly time out on the boat. We catch up on bar stuff and spend most of the time just sitting together, watching our lines. I think he prefers the company of silence.
I cast again and wait. The sun warms my shoulders. It’s not as hot today, and the breeze is perfect. I reach for my water bottle, open it, and take a swig. I stare out at the water that’s calm and endless. Coconut Beach is paradise.
Jonah clears his throat. “You bring her books this week?”
“Every Tuesday,” I say with a nod.
The mobile bookstore is parked by the marina this week. She likesanything romance right now. And anything with a strong heroine who kicks ass. It’s getting harder to pick out books for her. I never know what she’ll like.
Jonah grunts. “You’re a good kid.”
I don’t say anything because compliments from Jonah are rare, but they mean something.
He squints at the horizon. “You just going to stay here forever? Be a bartender and take care of your mom?”
I scoff. “I manage that bar, too. Did you forget that, old man?”
He rubs his beard like he’s deciding whether to argue with me or not. “Didn’t forget. I just think you’re built for more, kid. Once upon a time, you were going places.”
I bristle at his words. “I’m thirty, Jonah. I’m not a kid.”
