Chapter 23: The Beach She Planned

The beach below the lighthouse was a half-moon of pale sand with a line of black rocks at each end.

I had seen it a hundred times on a booking page.

I had never once seen it with a man on it who wanted to be there.

"Stand there," I said.

Eli stood where I pointed with his hands in his pockets, squinting at the water.

"Take your hands out."

"Where do they go?"

"Anywhere. They're hands."

He took them out and held them stiffly away from his body.

I laughed so hard I had to put the camera down on the tripod.

"I'm bad at this," he said.

"You're very bad at this."

"I'm a mechanic."

"Then pretend it's an engine and you've been asked to look relaxed."

"That's not how engines work."

I set the timer, ran across the sand in my sundress, and dropped next to him on the wet edge where the waves came in.

The camera clicked.

We both looked at the screen.

I was laughing with my mouth open, and he was staring at me, not at the lens.

"Delete it," I said. "My nose is sunburned."

"No."

"My nose is sunburned in all of them."

"It was sunburned the night you got off the bus," he said.

"In the dark?"

"Under the dock lamp. Right after I noticed your suitcase wasn't there."

I looked at him.

He looked at the screen.

"Keep that one," he said.

I took forty more.

One with the waves taking our shoes.

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