He stretches his arms in a windmill fashion and smiles. “I thought maybe we could adventure as far as the boardwalk.”
The suggestion is exactly what I needed to hear. “A walk near the ocean sounds perfect.”
He looks at my skirt and sandals. “Do you need to change?”
“Nope. I’m perfectly comfortable walking in this.”
“Okay, great.”
He takes my hand and we walk toward the street. His palm is warm but not sweaty and it comforts me as I look around.
The air is clear, there’s no fog this morning, and the breeze is just cool enough that I don’t need to pull my hair back.
Casey sets a quick pace, but I easily keep up. I haven’t worked out since arriving in L.A. except for some yoga poses in the morning. We pass by some shops, but Casey doesn’t turn to look at them, so I ignore the jangling windchimes and jewelry displays that call my name.
“I spoke to my parents today.”
“You did? That’s good.”
“Yes. They were happy to hear my voice. I think they’re being a bit dramatic about it, but I get it. My mother said something strange, though.”
“She did?”
“Yup. She told me to say hello to you.”
My eyes widen. “You’re lying!”
He chuckles. “I’m not. I told her how you’ve helped me feel better and she nearly dropped the phone. When she recovered, she asked me to give you her best.”
“Whoa. I don’t know what to say. It feels like I’ve mastered a yoga level that’s never been achieved before.”
He laughs harder and shakes his head. “Come on, we’re almost there.”
He has this determined look on his face, and he doesn’t slow down until the buildings clear and there’s nothing but the greyish blue Pacific Ocean in front of us.
The waves aren’t particularly tall today. I’ve seen them as high as eight feet. These are closer to four and no more than a foot when they finally crash against the sand and rocks.
“The sound of the ocean has always soothed me,” says Casey as we stop to stare at the waves.
“It does for a lot of people. I know Jane listened to tapes of the ocean when she was pregnant with her kids and wanted to relax.”
“Yeah. But nothing beats the real thing.”
We walk along the boardwalk, hand in hand, the wind through my hair and not a thought in my head. It’s serene and invigorating at the same time, much like a yoga session.
Creases stretch across Casey’s forehead, and I wonder what’s on his mind. Keeping silent, I wait to see if he will say something, but instead the lines only deepen.
“What are you thinking about?” I finally ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“I may not know everything about you, Casey Tucker, but I know when you’re lying.”
He smiles and looks away toward the ocean. I want to push but I get the feeling that he will only retreat if I do, so I fidget with my fingers and wait.
“I’m just thinking about baseball.”
“Ah, I should have guessed that.”
