Once and for All(50)

I didn’t put on my shoes after climbing the last step, or even when we circled the pool to the hotel entrance. Instead, I waited until the last possible moment, standing in front of the doors there, before sliding my feet into the straps and buckling them. The night had been barefoot, and the night was over. As Ethan shook out his socks, then put on his own shoes, a housekeeper carrying a load of towels came out the door, glancing at us with eyebrows raised. Some stories tell themselves.

We were halfway to the lobby elevators when I realized we might really be about to say good-bye. When I slowed my steps, he said, “I’m just going to get my stuff. I’ll come back down and we’ll go out together. Okay?”

The relief I felt hearing this was immense; a reprieve, if only a short one. I nodded as he leaned in, kissing my forehead. Then the elevator came and he stepped in, smiling at me just before the doors closed.

I walked over to the lobby bathroom, pushing the heavy door open and going inside. When I saw myself in the mirror, I laughed out loud: my hair was wild, windblown and tangled, my lips swollen from kissing, the straps of my dress tied crookedly, one higher than the other. As I reached up, trying to smooth my hair, a small piece of dune grass dislodged itself from somewhere, falling into the sink in front of me. I reached down, picking it up, then turned it in my fingers slowly one way, then another. This is what it will feel like when he’s gone, I told myself, but the thought was too big. Not yet.

Back out in the lobby, Ethan was standing by the front doors, a duffel bag at his feet. He’d tucked in his shirt and splashed some cold water on his face: his skin was cool as he kissed me, a cheek brushing my own. “Found your phone,” he said, reaching into his jacket pocket and handing it to me. “You’re going to need it.”

“Are you saying you’re going to call?”

“Probably before we even leave the lot.”

I smiled. “Then you’ll need my number.”

He pulled out his phone, swiping to the contacts, and handed it over. I could feel him watching me, so close, as I typed in my name and the digits, then hit SAVE. “There. Done.”

He took it back, then sighed. “I don’t want to be done.”

“Me neither.”

A car pulled up outside, just past the overhang of the hotel. I could tell by Ethan’s face that it was his dad. The car did look new, and expensive, low to the ground and cherry red.

“Just stay,” I said quietly, before I could stop myself.

“I wish I could,” he replied, then pulled me closer, burying his face in my hair. Is this the end? I thought. Or would there be another kiss, another moment, more time, just like I wanted? But then he was pulling back from me, still holding my hand. “I gotta go, though. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I managed to get out. “I’ll be there for limeade before you know it.”

“I’m holding you to that.” Then he did kiss me again, one hand touching my face, lingering there even as he finally pulled away. “This isn’t over, Lulu. It’s only the beginning. Right?”

“The beginning,” I repeated. “Okay.”

I saw him draw in a big breath, then let it out before he turned, starting toward the revolving doors. When he was almost there, he turned, dropping the bag and jogging back over to me. As soon as he was close enough, I had my arms around him.

“I love you,” he said, close to my ear.

“I love you, too,” I replied. Then I kissed him, trying to put everything I felt and had into this last bit of contact. When he pulled away, it was all I could do not to sob.

And then he was walking over to the doors, pushing through them and outside. I got only the briefest glance of his dad, also tall, stocky, and dark-haired, watching him approach from over the roof of the car. He popped the trunk, and Ethan dropped his bag in, then walked back to the passenger door to climb inside. I knew I’d already gotten my good-bye, several of them, but I still couldn’t make myself move as his dad got behind the wheel, starting the car. Just as they drove off, two women approached from outside, pushing the doors into motion. My last glimpse of Ethan was this combination of the doors turning and the car moving, in a prism of motion and spinning that left me dizzy and yearning. As if the whole world itself tilted, not just my own.





CHAPTER


    14





“WAIT, THEY’RE not coming?” my mom said, as William waved his free hand, trying to quiet her. “But the photographer will be here in ten minutes!”

“. . . of course I understand,” William said into the phone at his ear, using his firm voice. Just hearing it, I sat up straighter in my own chair. “But we’d agreed you’d participate in this photo shoot. There’s no way we’ll find someone else on such short notice.”

“Remind her this was part of our deal,” my mom said. He flapped at her again. “If they stand us up for this, no discount on the rehearsal dinner fee. I might even mark it up.”

Yikes, I thought, raising my eyebrows. When I snuck a look at my mom, she looked so incensed I quickly went back to folding programs.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” William said into the phone, sitting back in his chair. “And of course we’ll discuss how it affects our fee. . . . Fine. Okay. Right.”