Girls of Summer(58)
“I should probably extol the beauty of the island, the golden beaches, the profound connection with the ocean, and there’s that, too, of course. It’s not possible not to feel that connection even when it’s unpleasant. I mean, getting to and from our hometown relies on what the ocean’s doing. Gale force wind? No boats running, no planes flying, not that we could afford the airfare. Some of the major football games are off-island but half the passengers toss their chowder on the way because of high seas, and when you try to return, boats are canceled.”
“Frustrating.”
“And don’t mention Moby-Dick!” Juliet faked choking herself. “That’s like the school’s bible. If I have to read another word about the anatomy of a whale…”
“Time changes things,” Ryder said. “A century ago, Nantucketers hunted whales. Now, we protect them.”
“Things don’t always change for the better. For example, Ezra Noble. He’s been making his living all his life, fishing these waters. Restaurants buy from him, and if you get to the dock on time, he’ll sell to individual customers. Now his boat is disgraceful. Ezra can’t afford to paint it or overhaul the engine. He can barely afford the docking fee. He’s old. He doesn’t have a pension. In the past few years, as the seal population has exploded, there are fewer fish for Ezra to catch. Ezra has a daughter with cystic fibrosis. He’s got a lot of family here, siblings, aunts and uncles, and they all do what they can. He can’t leave this island. It’s been his family’s home for generations. But he may not be able to afford to stay.”
Ryder said, “You’re very passionate about this island, aren’t you?”
Please don’t say passionate, Juliet thought. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to kiss her.
Reining herself in, she said, “I really should order. After this martini, I may be passionate, but one more sip and I’ll be under the table.”
“I’d like to see that,” Ryder joked, nodding at the waiter.
After they ordered oysters as starters and salmon as an entrée, Ryder said, “So we have something in common. We like seafood.”
“I grew up eating fresh oysters I found myself at the Jetties or out at Coskata,” Juliet told him. “The hard part is opening the shell.” She looked down at her hand. “I cut myself more than once.”
“I like to go out sport fishing with friends and bring back a nice big tuna,” Ryder said. “Of course now that I’ve met Sylvia Earle, I worry every time I eat fish, because so much of the population of tuna has been diminished by overfishing.”
“Please, no guilt talk while I’m enjoying these oysters,” Juliet said, as they were set before them.
For a while they focused on holding the oysters by the hinge end, sipping in the liquid, and chewing the sweet fish thoroughly to release the variety of delicate flavors. As they ate their salmon, Ryder told Juliet more about his work.
“I’m flying to China for a week later this summer,” he said.
“China? Why?”
“Because about three-fourths of the human beings on this planet who will be affected by rising waters live in China. Shanghai, Beijing. Cities along the Yangtze River Basin. The Chinese are reacting quickly. They’re far ahead of the United States. They’ve developed something called the ‘sponge city initiative.’?”
Juliet was mesmerized as Ryder spoke. He was brilliant, she decided, listening to him pour out facts and numbers in a dramatic and emotionally engaging way. His eyes flashed, his cheeks flushed, and she could feel the electric attraction sparking between them.
The waiter approached to take their plates. They both declined dessert. If they were alone, Juliet thought she would climb right over the table and into Ryder’s lap. He was everything, all of it, masculine and tender and gorgeous and smart.
“Have you ever been to China?” Ryder asked.
“I’ve never really been anywhere,” Juliet told him. “Well, Boston, D.C., New York a few times.” Memories of her mother talking about Florence or Paris and memories of Juliet’s father leaving them somehow intertwined, leaving Juliet in a melancholy mood whenever she thought about Europe. “I think I’d like to see China, though. I know so little about it.”
Ryder paid the bill. They walked out to his car and stood next to it in the shadowy light of the picture-perfect island street, so quiet on this summer night, so peaceful.
Ryder said, “I want to kiss you.”
She took a deep breath. “I’d like that.”
He leaned over, cupped her face in both hands, and brought his mouth to hers. It was as if she was weak with thirst and his mouth and breath were water.
Ryder said, “You.”
To Juliet’s surprise, Ryder pulled away. “You are a problem. No, we are a problem. We don’t seem to have ‘idle’ in our relationship. It’s either off or zero to sixty in two point five seconds. That’s electric supercar acceleration, by the way.” Before Juliet could reply, he continued, “I have to go to Miami tomorrow for a conference. You should know I’m always traveling, giving talks like the one I gave at the Nantucket Atheneum, or joining expeditions tagging great whites, or meeting with companies to discuss how they can change over from plastic to paper. All this before I go to China.”