See Me(40)

As her thoughts continued to drift, she turned her attention to the island, noting the gnarled remnants of tree stumps, gray and salt-coated, their roots twisting like frayed yarn on a loosely twined ball. Curving pathways cut through the saw-grass-speckled dunes, shortcuts to the ocean side of the island, and driftwood, stained black from the marsh, collected at the water’s edge.

“You’re thinking about something,” she heard him say. Without her noticing it, Colin had moved his board closer to hers.

“Just how much I love being out here.”

“Do you come out every weekend?”

“Most weekends,” she said, keeping her strokes steady. “Unless it’s raining or the wind is gusting. Strong winds make it feel like you’re not getting anywhere, and the water can get kind of choppy. I made that mistake once when I brought Serena out here. She lasted about twenty minutes before she insisted on heading back, and she hasn’t come out ever since. When it comes to the ocean, she’s more of the lay-out-in-the-sun or relax-in-the-back-of-the-boat type of girl. Even though we’re close, we’re not that much alike.”

The curiosity in the way he watched and listened urged her on, and Maria drew her paddle through the water. “Serena has always been more outgoing and popular than I ever was. She’s had one boyfriend after the next and has a zillion friends. Her phone never stops ringing, people always want to spend time with her. It wasn’t like that for me. I was always quieter, shyer I guess, and I grew up feeling like I never really fit in.”

“You don’t seem shy to me.”

“No?” she asked. “How do I seem to you?”

He cocked his head. “Thoughtful. Intelligent. Empathetic. Beautiful.”

The certainty with which he spoke – like he’d reviewed the list beforehand – made her feel suddenly self-conscious. “Thank you,” she murmured. “That was… sweet.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard it before.”

“Not really.”

“Then you’re hanging out with the wrong people.”

She adjusted her feet on the board, trying to mask how flattered and flustered she felt. “So no girlfriend for you?”

“No,” he answered. “I wasn’t really boyfriend material for a while there, and lately I’ve been pretty busy. You?”

“Still single,” she said. “I had a serious boyfriend when I was in college, but it didn’t work out. And lately I’ve had a tendency to attract the wrong kind of men.”

“Like me?”

She gave a sheepish grin. “I wasn’t thinking of you when I said that. I was thinking about the managing partner at my firm. Who happens to be married and has a family. He’s been hitting on me and it’s been making work pretty stressful.”

“I can imagine.”

“But you don’t have any advice for me, right? Since you don’t give advice?”

“No.”

“You do realize that having a conversation with you takes some getting used to, right? Serena, for instance, always has loads of advice.”

“Is it helpful?”

“Not really.”

His expression said she’d just proved his point. “What happened with your boyfriend?”

“There’s not much to say. We’d been going out for a couple of years and it felt to me like we were moving toward something more serious.”

“Marriage?”

She nodded. “I thought so. But then, he decided that I wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted someone else.”

“That had to be rough.”

“At the time, it was devastating,” she agreed.

“And no boyfriends since then?”

“Not really. I’ve dated a few guys, but nothing ever really materialized.” She paused, remembering. “I’d go dancing with my girlfriends at this salsa club in Charlotte, but most of the guys I ended up meeting wanted only one thing. To me, sleeping with someone is an outgrowth of a commitment, and a lot of guys just want a fling or whatever.”

“That’s their problem.”

“I know. But…” She tried to think of the best way to phrase it. “It’s hard sometimes. Maybe it’s because my parents are so happy and make it seem so easy, but I’ve always assumed that I’d be able to find the perfect guy without having to settle. And growing up, I had all these plans… I just knew that by now, at my age, I’d be married and we’d live in a restored Victorian and we’d be talking about kids. But those things seem further away now than they did when I was a little girl. They seem further away than they did even a couple of years ago.”

When he didn’t respond, she shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this.”

“I’m interested.”

“Sure you are,” she said, dismissing his comment. “It sounds boring, even to me.”

“It’s not boring,” he countered. “It’s your story and I like hearing it.” He let that sit before abruptly changing the subject. “Salsa dancing, huh?”

“That’s what you heard? In everything I said?” When he shrugged, she went on, wondering why it seemed so easy to talk to him. “I used to go almost every weekend.”