My sister giggles and tilts down her sunglasses before blowing him a kiss.
“You really love him, don’t you?” I ask her.
The smile on her face is the size of a sliced grapefruit.
“He’s my rock,” she says. “When I’m around him… I dunno. I just feel like the best version of myself. I always thought I’d end up with someone artistic. Some bearded woodworker out in the forest—someone who whittled his own coffee spoons and played the guitar.”
I laugh. Jules had a lot of boys following her around growing up, but her kindness sometimes got the better of her. She brought home loser boys the way I brought home stray animals. After Dad passed away, I deferred from college to stay in Seattle and make sure she didn’t run off with any leather-clad musicians or pothead, quasi-homeless van-lifers. But apart from the occasional fuckboy and one secretly married finance bro, she managed to survive her early twenties on her own without any situations too sticky to pull herself out of.
“I know you’re probably surprised,” Jules says. “I’msurprised. He’s such a…”
“Unique character?” I fill in for her.
“I was going to say massive dork,” she laughs. “But he’smydork. When Harry first walked into the salon, I didn’t think twice about him. But the more time I spent with him, the more I realized I’d never felt more grounded in my life. He makes me feel so safe. When I’m around him, I’m braver. I’m relaxed. I feel like I can trust him to carry me when I’m not sure I can carry myself.”
I mull over her words carefully. When I was with Patrick, I never felt truly content. Relieved, maybe. Happy to be out of a dating pool that felt more like a toilet bowl than a place to swim. But safer? Braver? The only thing our relationship emboldened me to do was stay up later doing research for my subpar dissertation.
But with Caleb… I’m different. Bolder. I can actually be myself instead of the closed-off, people-pleasing shell I’ve learned to become over the last decade. And what’s more, I’m finally sketching again. The greatest thing about not being able to talk to anyone about this is that it’s forcing me to express myself visually, and it’s actually working.
It’s funny—even when I thought I hated him, just being around Caleb made mebrave.
Jules shifts so she’s facing me and leans in like she’s about to tell me a secret.
“I know this whole trip hasn’t been rainbows and coconuts for you,” she says. “But I want you to know that I’m so grateful you came. I see the effort you’re making with Patricia and Matthew. I know they can be difficult…”
I look over at Matthew, who’s graduated from broody palm shots to posing with a volleyball he probably had shipped in by helicopter at the edge of the sand.
“But it means more to me than you know.”
A fresh wave of guilt hits me right in the stomach. Iammaking an effort with the Warrens, but I’m still lying to her. And even if I can’t tell her about Caleb without risking a public hanging, there’s one thing my sister deserves to know about.
“Jules—"
“I know we haven’t been as close lately as we used to be,” she interrupts, “And we blame it on you being busy at work, but I know it’s because of me, too. I haven’t been prioritizing you, Stella, and I feel so guilty about it.”
Guilty? I’ve been so wrapped up in my own guilt I hadn’t even considered Jules might have something to apologize for, too.
“Don’t make excuses for me,” she says. “I know it’s true. My point is that you are the most important person in the world to me. And I’m so grateful to you for getting outside your comfort zone this week. Honestly, I think Dad would be proud.”
With those last words, the guilt wave turns into a full-on tsunami. Why did she have to pull the dad card? What will she think when I tell her that my whole career, everything I’ve been working for, has been put on hold? Worse, that I’m not even sure Iwantit anymore?
I think about Caleb’s pep talk at the gazebo on Mamanuka island. I don’t want my relationship with my sister to end up like Harry and Matthew’s—built on a foundation of omission. Iwilltell Jules about my fellowship. Just… not today.
By the timewe get back to the ship, Jules has collected enough tiny puka shells to make an anchor chain. She, apparently, does not share our dad’s beliefs that shells shouldn’t leave their home beaches.
“We’ll have to declare those at customs,” Harry reminds her. “Make sure you don’t forget!”
I’ve just stepped out of the tender onto the dock when a spitting noise from the water nearly knocks me back in. Something dark is emerging a few feet off the dock. Jules jumps into Harry’s arms as she lets out a shriek to rival Anna Farris inScream.
“Not a shark, Jules!” I assure her, although what’s coming out of the water is undoubtedly just as alarming.Caleb.He surfaces and gulps at the air, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he easily hoists his body onto the swim dock. In one swift motion, he pulls off his snorkel mask and shakes his hair like he’s a guest star on Baywatch. I have to physically restrain myself from drooling at the beads of salt water that slide down his tan, perfectly muscled chest.
“If it isn’t the Loch Ness monster,” Jim jokes as he finishes tying up the tender.
“Sorry if I scared you, Jules,” Caleb offers as he kicks off his fins. “We had a warning light on one of the thrusters so I went down to check it out.”
Behind him, a second head pops out of the water, although this one sports a tank and dive gear. Yara leaps up beside him like a harbor seal.
“Anything we should be concerned about?” Arthur asks. Caleb shakes his head.
