Page 205 of The Storm

“Boat racks.” He raises a brow at me because it’s clearly a stupid question since I know what they are.

I stare at him. Swallow. “Um, sure. Uh, why are we here?”

He doesn’t answer, just sends me a look, a smile on his lips, his eyes shining.

He walks over to one of the racks. A chain secures a blue tandem kayak in place and just above it, attached to the same chain, is a single shell. He unlocks the chain, and I step closer automatically to help him get the kayak off the rack, and then we lift the kayak together.

“Whose are these?” I ask.

The water glimmers in the darkness while the faint gold line on the edge of the horizon glows.

“Mine,” Nick says distractedly. “There.” He nods in the direction we’re headed, and I follow him with my heart in my throat.

We put the kayak in the water and get in. The paddle feels foreign and familiar at once. So does the water and the gentle rocking beneath me. I remember it all. It’s as if all my early mornings out on the bay back home have been rolled into a ball and stuffed back into my brain, so it’s a lot of memories all at once. I’ve spent so many early mornings out on the water like this, so all the things I grew to take for granted back then, I now notice. And I’m also suddenly very aware of how much I missed it. This indescribable peace of being out here before the rest of the world is awake.

Sometimes life changes all at once. With a bang. Kaboom.

But sometimes change is so gradual you don’t realize it until a lot later, when something forces you to acknowledge that there’s a version of yourself you haven’t seen in a very long time. That somewhere along the way you’ve lost something integral that made you you.

I dip the paddle into the water.

“Ready?” Nick asks.

I nod and pull the paddle through the water. The kayak moves forward smoothly. We find the rhythm like no time has passed at all, and then it’s just him and me and the endless expanse of water.

Freedom.

There’s a lump in my throat that lodges there tightly and makes breathing just a bit more difficult.

The kayak cuts through the water, and we head toward where the sun is slowly rising over the horizon. Once it’s up, we stop and rest the paddles across our laps, just looking around.

“You’re very quiet,” Nick says.

I glance at him over my shoulder. Sunshine is painting his skin golden, and his eyes shine in the early morning light.

I dip my fingers into the water.

“Don’t even think about it,” he says sternly. “It’s cold as balls out here.”

I grin and keep my hand in the water for a bit longer to feel the waves playing against my skin.

“Wuss,” I say when I lift my hand out and shake off the water.

“You start splashing me and I’ll have to retaliate. And we’ll both end up in the water, you know that. And then my junk will break off because it’ll freeze solid.”

I turn my face toward the sun and close my eyes. “I’d lick you like a Popsicle.”

He sighs. “Great. I’m hard again.”

And I laugh. I laugh so hard I nearly fall overboard, and Nick has to grab my forearm to steady me.

By the time we get back to the marina, the sun is high in the sky and we’re both shivering with cold.

We put the kayak away, and once Nick’s locked the chain, he holds the key out to me.

I stare at the key, then him, not really getting what he wants me to do. He locked up already, didn’t he?

He takes my hand and presses the key into my palm, closing my fingers around it.