Wait for the Rain (21 page)

“More than ready.” She placed her hands on either side of her head. “My ears are ringing.”

In a staggered formation, the six of them made their way down the beach. A number of people were milling around, many of them fellow refugees from the Castaway. As they approached the shore, Daphne turned back for another look at the bar, which had thinned out a bit but was still quite crowded.

“I wonder what time it will finally quiet down?” she said to Clay.

“Not for hours. We were there pretty late last night.”

“This is plenty late for me. I’m glad our house is close enough to the action to be fun, but not too close to keep me awake all night.”

“Are you a light sleeper?”

“Light enough.” She didn’t feel the need to tell him that she had earplugs in her travel bag. And an eye mask.
He knows how old I am. That’s enough information for one night
.

Daphne and Clay eventually caught up with the others. Skylar glanced back at the fading lights of the Castaway, then looked at Doug. “What happened to the rest of your crew?”

“God knows,” Doug said. “Attrition is pretty normal for a group our size.”

Scott, who was now walking on the other side of Skylar, put a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t say I have a problem with it.”

Ignoring his overture, Skylar yawned and stretched her arms over her head. “I haven’t danced that much in ages. I may fall asleep before I make it home.”

“Aw, don’t say that,” Scott said. “You promised me a nightcap.”

Daphne glanced at Skylar to see her reaction to his comment, but Skylar didn’t seem to have one. At least a visible one.
She’s so good,
Daphne thought.

Before Skylar could respond, out of nowhere KC bolted ahead of the group.

“Oh sweet potato, what is she doing
now
?” Skylar asked.

“She’s like a superhero,” Doug said with a wistful smile as he watched KC go.

Daphne laughed. “She
is
like a superhero. Can you believe she pulled out the Running Man and the Robot on the dance floor?”

Doug kept smiling. “I get happy just thinking about that. I love how she doesn’t care about looking like an idiot. Not that she’s an idiot, of course. You know what I mean, right?” He scratched the back of his head. “Oh hell, that came out wrong. Did that make me sound like an asshole?”

“You
are
an asshole,” Scott said.

Clay laughed. “Takes one to know one.”

Skylar patted Doug on the arm. “No worries, I totally get what you’re saying. Now let’s catch her before she tries to swim to Florida.” She quickened her pace, as did Doug and Scott, leaving Clay and Daphne trailing behind.

Daphne waved good-bye at them. “No more running for me. I’ve had enough exercise for today.”

Clay laughed. “You’re putting your foot down, are you? Just saying no?”

She smiled up at him. “I guess I am. Not really by choice, though. Sad as it sounds, I’m just too tired. Maybe I should go to California and follow KC around for a few weeks. That would whip me into shape.”

“Where do you live now?”

“Columbus. About as far from the beach as it gets. I guess that’s not really true, but it’s far enough. What about you?”

“I’m in New York, but plenty of my buddies from business school work in Chicago, so let me know if you ever need me to pick you up a purple sweatshirt. Or maybe a purple license plate holder? I know you Wildcats love your purple.”

She smiled. “Thanks, I’ll remember that. Oh my gosh, look! KC’s doing one of her best moves!” She pointed about fifty feet ahead of them.

KC, who had finally stopped running, now had stretched her arms straight over her head. She remained that way for a moment, then proceeded to bend backward until her hands reached the sand. Skylar, Doug, and Scott stood a few feet away, buckled over in laughter.

“Is she really doing a
backben
d
?” Clay squinted down the beach.

Daphne clasped her hands together and smiled. “I knew it was only a matter of time before she pulled that one out of her pocket. I’m surprised it took this long, to be honest. After I found out she’d been doing shots, I figured we’d see a backbend right on the dance floor.”

“I take it you’ve seen her do this before?”

Daphne pushed a loose strand of hair away from her eyes. “Oh yes, many times. In college that was her go-to party trick, or one of them, at least. I’m sure it doesn’t surprise you that she had multiple party tricks.”

He chuckled. “No, I can’t say that it does.”

“I can’t believe she can still contort her body that way. Doesn’t it look painful?”

Clay made a strained face and put his hands on his lower back. “I think I’d end up in traction if I attempted a stunt like that.”

Daphne put her hands on her lower back too. “You and me both. The girl has superhuman DNA, that’s the only way to explain it. Either that or she’s been lacing her oatmeal with steroids all these years.”

Clay chuckled again. “I doubt that. Her voice is way too high.” He glanced at his watch. “Hey, it’s after midnight, so it’s officially tomorrow. May I be the first to wish you a very happy birthday?”

She covered her face with her hands. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’m forty.”
But it feels kind of good to say that out loud.

He put his hand on top of her head. “Come on, you look great for
any
age, and you know it.”

She removed her hands and smiled. “You’re just saying that to be nice.”
But I’m thrilled you said it.

He gestured toward the multiple thatched-roof bars and restaurants peppering the beach. “I respectfully beg to differ. Come have a birthday drink with me?”

“Now?”
Weren’t we just talking about being tired and going to sleep?

“Why not? The Pirate’s Cove is right over there. We had a few drinks there our first night on the island. It’s a fun little spot.”

“What about them?” Daphne pointed down the beach. KC was up and running again, barely a dot on the horizon now. Skylar, Doug, and Scott were trailing behind, a trio of silhouettes in the darkness.

“They’re all adults—they’ll find their way back. Come on, Daphne, it’s your
birthday
.”

She pressed her palms together and stared briefly into the moonlight. She hated to ditch her friends, but then again, KC wouldn’t last much longer anyway, and given the obvious chemistry between Scott and Skylar, it was probably only a matter of time before they wanted to be alone together. And besides, wasn’t that part of the reason Daphne had come to St. Mirika in the first place? To focus on herself, for once? To stop being locked in the past? To let go of her expectations about what life
should
be like and finally star
t . . .
living it
?
No more vanilla!

Clay was nice and smart and funny. And very good-looking. And he was asking to buy her a birthday drink. On the beach. Just the two of them. Maybe it meant nothing, but what did that matter? She tried to squash the internal chatter.
Stop worrying so much! Just have fun! Take a chance for once!

“Daphne? You there?” Clay waved a hand in front of her face. “What do you say? Can I buy you a drink to ring in your birthday?”

She hesitated for just a moment, then smiled. “Okay, sure, why not?”

“That’s the spirit. Let’s go.”

They walked up the sand to the Pirate’s Cove. A small bamboo roof covered a handful of round wooden tables surrounding a sliver of a dance floor. A string of red lights encircled the rows of intermittent bamboo poles on either side that served loosely as a fence. The place was barely a quarter the size of the Castaway, and Daphne was immediately drawn to its cozy charm.

“What’s your poison, pirate?” Clay asked her as they approached the tiny bar.

She held up her palms. “I have no idea. What kind of poison do pirates drink on their birthdays?”

He picked up a laminated list of drink specials and studied the options. “Hmm. How about a Treasure Chest? Or a Booty Drop?”

She gave him a look. “There’s really a drink called
Booty Drop
?”

He pointed to the menu. “Swear to God. I couldn’t make up something that bad.”

She smiled. “Okay then, I’ll try a Booty Drop. Why not, right?”

“Do you want to know what’s in it?”

“Not really. I prefer not to know, actually.”
I’m scared to know, actually.

He arched his eyebrows. “Going in blind, are we now? Are you always this adventurous?”

She smiled. “Not really. Maybe.”
I want to be. I used to be.

“I like your attitude. Why don’t you grab one of those high tables, and I’ll order the drinks.”

“Sounds good.”
I’m liking my attitude too.

She climbed onto a wooden stool and observed her surroundings. The place was about half-f and hummed with conversation, but it felt downright subdued compared to the mayhem they’d just experienced. The demographic here was also noticeably older than that of the Castaway, and Daphne felt like she’d left—make that
escaped from
—a college fraternity party to join an adult cocktail party. Civilized, calm, and pleasant. She loved it.
This is much more my style.

As if on cue, soft island-style music began playing in the background. Daphne smiled, and for the first time wondered
why
she’d been so fixated on turning forty. Yes, it was a big milestone, but the earth was still rotating. She was also pretty sure the sun was going to come up in a few hours. Maybe she’d let this birthday take on too much symbolism? Maybe it was time to stop being so afraid of starting over?

Clay approached with their drinks. He took a seat and handed her a glass, then raised his to hers. “Happy birthday, Daphne White. Here’s to a long and happy life.”

She clinked her glass against his. “Thank you, Clay Hanson.”
Clay Handsome.

Without realizing it, Daphne found herself studying him as they each sipped their drink.

“What?” he finally said, touching his cheeks and chin. “Do I have something on my face?”

She laughed and shook her head. “No.”

“Then what?”

She took a deep breath.
Just say it
.

“To be honest, I didn’t expect to be ringing in my birthday with the likes of you.”

Clay narrowed his eyes. “The likes of me? Am I that unappealing?”

She blushed. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. It’s just tha
t . . .
” She looked down.

“Do you think there’s a warrant out for my arrest or something?”

She laughed and regained eye contact. “I highly doubt the police are on your heels. What I was trying to say is tha
t . . .
”
Do it!

She took another deep breath, then continued.
“What I was trying to say is that I haven’t been out for a drink with anyone since my ex-husband and I split up. Not that this is a
date
or anything, but I’m just feeling a little out of my comfort zone even being here. I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

“When did you get divorced?”

“We separated over two years ago, but the divorce wasn’t final until recently.”

“Do you have kids?”

“A daughter, she’s fifteen.”

“For real? You look way too young to have a fifteen-year-old daughter.”

She laughed and pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Tell that to her.”

“You haven’t been on a date in more than two years?”

She blushed and cast her eyes downward. “No.”

He finished his drink and set the glass on the table. “Then let’s call this a date.”

“What?” She looked up at him.

“You heard me. I’m a man, you’re a woman, we’re having a drink,
on the beach in St. Mirika
, I might add.” He gestured to himself and then to her, then pointed toward the ocean. “I say we label this a date.”

She felt her cheeks flush and stared at the table again, too flustered—and thrilled—to respond.
Is this really happening?

Before she could say anything, the unmistakable roar of thunder shook the Pirate’s Cove. They both looked out at the ocean, then up at the sky.

“It’s going to pour,” Clay said. “Happens all the time here.”

Daphne gazed wistfully toward the water again. “So I’ve heard.”

“Do you like rain?”

She tapped her fingertips on the table. “I didn’t used to, but the rain here is different. It’s so warm, and soothing. I find i
t . . .
enchanting.”

“Your hands are enchanting,” he said. “Very elegant.”

Caught off guard by the non sequitur, she stopped tapping and looked at her fingers, suddenly self-conscious. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“And for the record, I wasn’t just saying all that to be nice,” he said.

She slowly looked up at him. “You weren’t just saying what?” She practically whispered the words.

“When I said that you look great for any age, or that you look way too young to have a fifteen-year-old.”

She felt her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink. Acknowledging her age was one thing.
Discussing
it was another.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Daphne White?”

“A little. Maybe we can change the subject?”

He put a hand over hers. “Sure. How about we talk about how I was serious when I said we should call this a date?”

She swallowed and felt her insides stir at the touch of his skin on hers.
Oh my gosh. This is really happening.

He began to move his thumb over her hand. “Does it make you nervous that I find you attractive? You seem nervous.”

She swallowed and pulled her hand away from his to pick up her glass. “A little.”

He chuckled. “You’re totally nervous right now. It’s cute.”

She took a sip of her drink. “S
o . . .
what happened to the girl?”

“What girl?”

“The blonde one you were with at the Castaway?”
The pretty one hanging off you like a necklace?

He shrugged. “She was nice enough, but not for me.”