Every Breath(34)

“Your hair is lovely, by the way.”

“Thank you. She cut more than I thought she would, but I’m glad you still recognize me.” She zipped her jacket before bending over to release Scottie from the leash. “Do you think you’ll need a coat? It’s kind of chilly out here, and we’ll be walking for a while.”

“I’ll be all right.”

“It must be all that Zimbabwean blood coursing through your veins.”

As soon as Scottie was free, he took off running, sand flying from his feet. The two of them began to follow.

“I know you probably think he’s out of control,” she said, “but I’ve taken him to obedience classes. He’s too stubborn to learn.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m not sure. I’m thinking that maybe you figure I’m just a pushover when it comes to my dog.”

“I’m not sure there’s a safe way for me to respond to that comment.”

She laughed. “Probably not. Did you get the chance to speak with Andrew?”

“I did. But I’m fairly certain that I miss him more than he misses me.”

“I think that’s typical for kids, isn’t it? Whenever I went off to camp, I was having too much fun to even have time to think about my parents.”

“Good to know,” he said. He glanced over at her. “Did you ever think about having children?”

“All the time,” she admitted. “I can’t imagine not having children.”

“Yeah?”

“I guess I’m just into the whole marriage and family thing. I mean, I enjoy my job, but that’s not what life is about for me. I can remember when my sister had her first baby, and she let me hold her, and I just…melted. Like I knew my purpose in life. But then again, I’ve always felt that way.” Her eyes glowed. “When I was a little girl, I used to walk around with a sofa cushion stuffed under my shirt, pretending I was pregnant.” She laughed at the memory. “I’ve always pictured myself as a mother…somehow, the idea of growing a person within you, bringing it into the world and loving it with a kind of primal intensity feels…profound to me. I don’t get to church that often anymore, but my feelings about this are as close to spiritual as I get, I suppose.”

He watched as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, as though trying to push away a painful truth, her vulnerability making him long to put his arms around her.

“But then, things don’t always work out the way that we imagine they will, do they?” The question was rhetorical, so he didn’t answer. After a few steps, Hope went on. “I know that life isn’t fair, and I’ve heard that old saying about how man plans and God laughs, but I never expected to be single at my age. It’s like my life is on hold somehow. It seemed like everything was on track. I’d met this wonderful man, we were making plans, and then…nothing. We’re exactly where we were six years ago. We don’t live together, we’re not married or even engaged. We’re just dating.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. You probably have no interest in hearing about any of this.”

“That’s not true.”

“Why would you care?”

Because I care about you, he thought. Instead, he said: “Because sometimes, all a person needs is for someone else to listen.”

She seemed to contemplate that as they walked through the sand. Scottie was far ahead, already past the pier, chasing one flock of birds after another, as energetic as always.

“I probably shouldn’t have said anything,” she remarked with a defeated shrug. “I’m just disappointed in Josh right now and it makes me wonder what the future holds for us. Or even if there’s going to be a future. But that’s just my anger talking. If you’d asked me when things were good between us, I’d have gone on and on about how wonderful he is.”

When she trailed off, Tru glanced over at her. “Do you know if he wants to be married? Or have kids?”

“That’s the thing…he says he does. Or he used to, anyway. We haven’t talked about it much recently, and when I finally tried to bring it up again, the discussion went south real fast. That’s why he’s not here. Because we ended up in this huge argument, and now instead of coming to the wedding with me, he’s in Las Vegas with his buddies.”

Tru winced. Even in Zimbabwe, people knew about Las Vegas. Meanwhile, Hope continued. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s me. I probably could have handled it better, and I know I’m making him sound completely selfish. But he isn’t. It’s just, sometimes, I think he hasn’t finished growing up yet.”

“How old is he?”

“Almost forty. How old are you, by the way?”

“Forty-two.”

“When did you finally feel like an adult?”

“When I was eighteen and left the farm.”

“That doesn’t come as a shock. With all you went through, you had no choice but to grow up.”

By then they’d reached the pier, and Tru noticed that many of the pilings were no longer submerged. Low tide, just as she’d told him.

“What do you intend to do?” he asked.