To the Sea (Follow your Bliss) (21 page)

When
Kira got out of the truck, Ian came around to the passenger side.

“I
don’t want this night to be over,” he said, as usual, not afraid to speak his
heart.

“Me
neither. Are you surfing tomorrow?”

“Every
day.”

“Then
I’ll see you in the morning.” He leaned in and gave Kira a gentle kiss on the
lips. She melted; unsure her legs would continue to support her. Breathless,
she leaned in for another and then floated over to her car. She bit her lip,
hesitating, tasting him in her mouth. She wanted to go back and throw herself
into his arms. But, she told herself she’d see him in the morning.

Chapter Twenty-Six

As
Kira drove home, the familiar anxiety of the night to come, alone in the cold
house, plagued her.

After
idling in the driveway for nearly fifteen minutes, she forced herself to the
door. The crushing and haunting desperation besieged her as she entered,
leaving her feeling worse than ever.

She
took a long warm shower, dried her hair, and put on her glasses. Grabbing a
magazine, hoping a distraction would stem the tears, she heard a knock.
Startled, Kira turned on the light. It came again, a light rapping. She
remembered Nicole arriving unannounced a couple months ago, but she would have
called or texted at that late hour. Kira flipped on the porch light at the foot
of the stairs, the silhouette of a tall figure shown through the glass of the
front door.

“Kira?”
a familiar voice called.

She
unbolted the lock, and this time threw herself into Ian’s arms. He hugged her
tight.

“I
hope this isn’t weird.”

“No,
not weird, not at all,” she said her face muffled in the folds of his
sweatshirt, trying hard not to cry out of sheer relief.

“When
you drove away, it felt wrong. I wanted to be with you, for the night to go on.
I want you Kira,” he said softly into her hair, holding her with the promise
not to let go.

After
she allayed the first wave of tears that threatened, a second tried to make
their way to her eyes, tears of gratitude this time, but she fought them off as
the connection between them fused, warming her with desire.

“I
went home, and it felt so empty without you there. I tried reading and writing,
zoning out to a surf vid, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I tried
calling first, but didn’t get an answer.”

“I
left my phone in the car,” Kira said, remembering.

“Is
this okay?” he asked. “You’re quiet.”

Kira
nodded in the dim light.

“Aw,
you look cute in your glasses,” he said referring to her Elizabeth and James
hombre frames. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Kira
nodded yes and then shook her head no. “I never ever wanted to cry in front of
you like this,” Kira whimpered as tears escaped from her eyes. “I wanted you to
think I’m okay. To be the me I was all day at the beach and at your house. To be
normal.”

“You
are okay. Just be you. What’s up?” he said gently, confused.

She
feared he wondered if he’d just made a mistake and entered the house of a crazy
person. They settled on the couch.

 “You
know how some people sleep at night?” she asked. “Well, I cry.” And another
wave washed over her. “It’s just here when I’m inside this house, alone,” she
said exasperated. “I’m sorry. I never wanted you to see me like this. I can’t
explain it. I just cry.”

“Kira.”
He took a deep breath and  reached out for her. “I want to see you all ways.
Teary, cranky, tired.” Ian pulled her into a hug. “I want to see you frustrated
and angry. I want to see you laughing and smiling. Just you. Always.” His
strong arms around her provided a confirmation. His words, an affirmation of
everything Kira wanted and needed. She took a deep breath.

“In
that case, there’s something I want to tell you, and then maybe never talk
about it again. I don’t really like talking about it or thinking about it even.
I vowed never to tell anyone, because it’s such a stain on my life. I only
wanted you to know the new me, the improved me.”

“Whatever
has happened to you is part of who you are. The good and bad stuff, it’s shaped
you into the person you are today. And that person, the Kira I know, I happen
to like a lot. And I don’t think any amount of crying or whatever went on in
your past is going to change that,” Ian said confidently.

Kira
drew a breath and began. “When I was in college I met a guy—” She told him the
whole story from start to finish. She told him the ugly parts and the
humiliating parts.

“I
just can’t seem to let go. Whenever I enter this house, all I can think about
is Jeremy. How he hurt me. How maybe I could have prevented it all and had a
happy marriage. I think about the women he was with, and it just keeps going
over and over in my mind, the same thoughts. It’s driving me mad.” The entire
time Ian listened attentively. He asked a few questions, but mostly remained
quiet as he held her hand.

“You’re
so brave. It doesn’t change a thing other than it breaks my heart to know
someone treated you so poorly. But there’s nothing you could have done to
change him. Or had the marriage you’d hoped for. You’re a smart woman, you must
see that?”

She
did, but it was as if an invisible thread held her to the spot.

Ian
continued, “Maybe when you’re here in this house, you revert. And you
temporarily forget all the growing and changing you’ve done, pulling you back
into believing you should be someone else or the person Jeremy wanted you to be
in the relationship. But because you’re not that person, you find yourself in a
confusing conflict causing you to suffer.”

Kira
wiped her eyes.

Ian
continued. “If having the picture perfect house in the suburbs isn’t who you
are any more, it’s okay to move on. You’re not going to disappoint anyone, at
least not anyone who’s worth their salt. No point in trying to force it,” he
followed up. “Just be you, do what makes you happy.”

What
Ian said sounded sensible. It rang true. Still something dense and stubborn
shielded Kira’s logic.

“When
I’m at work or the beach I’m fine, and then I walk through this door and fall
apart.”

“Have
you considered selling?”

“Well,
I got rid of all his things. I had a tag sale.”

“No,
I mean selling the house. Moving.”

“Where?”

“Moving
anywhere, moving on.”

As
if a light bulb in her heart suddenly illuminated the cavern of her mind, she
knew moving was the answer. Hearing Ian say it is okay to move on, to let go of
something that no longer served the person she’d become, was like giving her
the match to a candle she desperately wanted to light. It also corroborated
with Nicole’s suggestion, though Manhattan wasn’t the place for her.

“Sometimes
taking that last step away from what’s familiar is the hardest,” Ian said. “My
dog died a few weeks ago.”

Kira
tilted her head in sympathy.

“Don’t
worry I’m not likening your situation to that, but she was a sweetie. She was
actually my ex-girlfriend’s dog. She left several years ago, with, yes, you
guessed it, some other dude. She left Macy with me. At first, I was hurt by the
breakup, and Macy was a constant reminder of Rachel. She’d follow me around,
probably wondering when Rachel would be back. She was always at my heels. Over
time, as my emotions shifted from sadness to anger at Rachel, I’d get annoyed
by Macy always being there. I actually brought her to an animal shelter, just
so I wouldn’t think about my ex every time I looked at the dog, but at the last
moment, I couldn’t bring myself to go in. I probably would have gone home with
two dogs. I wasn’t angry at the Macy, I realized later, but at the reminder of
Rachel and her irresponsibility, insensitivity, generally her all around not
being good to Macy or me. Lucky for Macy I love dogs. Eventually, I just saw
her for what she was, my best friend, surf buddy, and I let go of the old
connotations with Rachel. But this house is just a house. It’s not a living,
breathing being. You can’t have been there very long.”

Kira
shook her head. “No, just since last fall.”

“No
guilt in selling. Maybe in some ways it’s an oppressive reminder that you were
done wrong and it’s you locked in that mindset. Or maybe it’s just haunted.”

Laughter
cut through Kira’s tears, inching toward understanding what Ian meant. “Even
though Jeremy and I didn’t create many memories here together, the walls
contain my own recent memories of loneliness, betrayal, and loss, what came at
the end and after the relationship. I’ve accepted what he did and that he died.
I could say I’ve let go of him, but not of the emotions that resulted from all
of that. It’s hard to wrap my head around.” Kira shifted on the coach, their
knees touched.

“Slowly,
piece by piece, it’s starting to make sense. Maybe moving on is the final step,
and instead of clinging to the old plan, maybe I can allow a new life unfold.”
It was almost as if the words were born in her mouth, registering as truth so
suddenly she felt a seismic shift, a movement toward freedom as she spoke them.

With
that effort, Kira’s eyes suddenly felt heavy.

“Getting
tired?” Ian took off his hat and ran his fingers through his short hair.

“Possibly,”
she said still not wanting the night to end.

He
tossed the cushions off the couch, kicked off his flip-flops, and started to
recline.

“I
didn’t scare you off? You’re not leaving?” she asked with surprise.

“Kira,
I’ll never leave you, not unless you want me to,” he said softly, and pulled
her alongside him.

He
took Kira’s glasses off, brushed a few stray hairs out of her face, then kissed
her forehead, her nose, cheeks, and then settled softly on her lips. Kira drank
in his gentleness of certainty and contentment. Then he closed his eyes.

Despite
Ian’s presence, Kira didn’t sleep much, but enjoyed the soft hum of Ian’s
breathing. She studied his fingers as they interlaced with hers resting upon
his chest. When the framed bit of sky in the living room window started to
lighten, Ian gave Kira a squeeze, smiled, and then stretched.

“Good
morning, surfer girl,” he said his voice gruff from sleep. “Sleep much?”

 “No,
but I didn’t cry, that’s something.”

“Can
we talk surfer to surfer?”

Kira
put her glasses on and nodded.

He
smiled. “Damn you’re cute. You’re beautiful with them off and cute with them
on.”

She
blushed. “As you were saying?”

“I
don’t believe in ghosts, strictly speaking, but I had weird dreams, not my
usual watery surfing dreams. Maybe this house
is
haunted,” he said
facetiously.

She
whacked him with a pillow. “Don’t say that, I have to live here until it
sells.”

“No
you don’t.”

“Where
else am I supposed to go? Heart broken and homeless sounds like a bad country
song.”

“Not
heart broken and not homeless. With me. I never want to be without you, babe.”
He planted a kiss on her lips, and she kissed him back, a long, slow kiss that
landed her at the first time she saw his dimpled smile, a kiss to make up for
the last few months.

“Are
you sure you want to live with crazy ‘ole me?”

“Not
crazy. Beautiful, intelligent, very organized,” he said looking around. “Now I
get what you were saying about the Boardroom. You are indeed Martha Stewart’s
protégé.”

“Yeah
well, that’s another story. I was born in an ashram, but grew up on a commune,
and might have some control issues.”

 “You
couldn’t make this stuff up, could you?” he said astounded. “I hope the next
story you have to tell is happy and has an
us
in it.”

“Now
that sounds perfect. I look forward to seeing how it turns out. But hey, I
thought we were talking surfer to surfer?”

“We
are,” he said grinning widely.

“Well
then, come on, we’d better get going.” Kira quickly washed up, slathered on
sunscreen, and they drove to the beach, leaving behind the Mercedes.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

In
the late afternoon, after Ian’s last lesson, Kira waited at the Boardroom,
indulging in a giant butterscotch-chip cookie from the café. Off the back deck,
the sun made the sand burn golden in its light. Ian wrapped his arms around
her, his wetsuit pulled down to his waist.

“Wanna
do something goofy?” he asked.

“Goofy?”
She thought of the time he shoved her in the sand to determine her dominant
foot. “As in goofyfoot?”

He
shook his head and then nodded laughing. 

“Sorta.
You know how I said I shape boards? I have a little project in mind. Come on
I’ll show you one.”

They
returned to his cottage. Among the surfboards that lined his hall, he showed
Kira a white one with flecks of gold that sparkled in the light. In large
script, written along the underside were the words
Golden State of Mind.

“This
is amazing,” Kira said impressed.

“Just
a hobby. Sorta. But I’ve been thinking of funny promos I could post on my
website and Facebook, something to make my friends and customers laugh.”

“I’m
in,” Kira said curiously.

He
grabbed a trucker’s hat that had the word
Golden State of Mind
written
in metallic gold letters. “You wear this,” he said putting it on her head.
“We’ll put your hair in pigtails, and then you’ll be magically transformed into
Goldilocks. As in the three bears. Or in our case, the three boards.”

Kira
laughed; his plan so far
was
goofy. “But I have brown hair.”

“You’re
golden,” he said smiling. “I was thinking we’d get shots of you first trying
out a board that’s too hard, then one that’s too soft, and then this one,” he
tapped his board. “This is just right.”

“Hilarious,”
she said laughing some more.

“I
thought of having Jamie do it, the blond hair, and all, but—” He scrunched up
his nose. “You’re way hotter.”

“There’s
a gold bikini I saw a while ago at the shop. I’m not sure if they have my size
or if it’s even still there, but that would look pretty good,” Kira suggested
consenting to be his model.

Ian’s
eyes lit up. “Let’s do it.”

Luckily,
one gold bikini remained on the rack at the Boardroom, and Kira snatched it up.
They gathered an old piece of driftwood that was the approximate size of a
surfboard and dragged Ian’s mattress outside. He took shots of her unhappy with
each of the two, too hard for the driftwood and too soft for the mattress,
until she discovered the Golden State of Mind surfboard. It was just right.

When
Ian got the photos he wanted, they dusted the sand off his mattress and
replaced it on the bed frame. As Kira turned to leave the bedroom, he pulled on
one of the gold bikini top strings. As she felt it unravel, Ian pulled her into
his arms. She let the top slip away as he kissed her bare chest. He ran his
hands down her sides as she tossed his shirt to the floor. He pulled her toward
him as they fell back on the bed, the heat building between their skin.

She’d
never felt so completely perfect with someone. It was just right. As their lips
moved in-sync with one another, she felt an abundance of passionate desire and
something else. Something her heart hinted at, but wasn’t ready to fully
reveal.

That
evening, Ian and Kira ate dinner at a restaurant right on the water, with
flickering candles and the rush of waves on the breeze for background music.
Afterward, they shared an ice cream as they walked along the beach.

“Now
what?” Kira asked absently.

“Now—”
Ian started to say, and then paused to think. “We weigh options. You have work
in the morning, right? We could stay here at my place, take a dawnie, and then
I could bring you to your house to get your car. Would you be able to make it
to your office in time? Or we could go back to your place, perform a séance,
and drive the spooks away.”

“Let’s
try the first one,” Kira said smiling inside and out.

“Option
one it is. But I have to admit I don’t have any of that fine lavender soap you
had in your bathroom. Apologies.”

“Not
to worry. I can make do with Ivory.”

“Dr.
Bronner’s,” Ian corrected.

“Hippie.”

“I
thought you were the one who grew up on the commune? My mom’s a dentist and my
dad builds boats.” Their banter and laughter carried them all the way to the
cottage.

“Ian,
what I like about you, aside from your handsome good looks, your way with a
surf board, your culinary abilities, the tidy home, and your sense of humor, is
your honesty.” They stood on the back deck where their wetsuits dried on the
railing. Clusters of stars winked at them in the sky.

“Well,
in that case, I’m going to be very honest, can I take off your clothes?”

“I
thought you’d never ask.”

Kira
sat down on a wooden lounge chair with a big soft cushion, and Ian knelt in
front of her slowly kissing her. He ran his fingers down her bare back, sending
delightful shivers across her skin. She found his lips and melted into him.

Kira
unbuttoned his shorts and slid her hands along his thighs. He laid her down
along the length of the chair, and she pushed her shorts off. The fresh air and
Ian’s fingers ignited her body. They pressed up against one another, slowly and
rhythmically, like the breath of the sea and the beat of a heart, coming
together. It was sensual and true. Their afternoon kindled a fiery passion
between them along with a connection deeper than Kira had ever known.

Afterward,
they lay together until they’d cooled off in the night air. Kira noticed a
tattoo of an anchor emblazoned in ink upon Ian’s leg. He was like the anchor,
solid, rooted, and purposeful. She took this symbol to represent qualities she
wanted to cultivate in herself. Kira envisioned foundation and freedom, an
anchor and wings. Looking back over the last few months, she saw both were
possible.

Kira
slept soundly that night. They made love once more in the morning, just before
dawn, the stars still hanging in the clear sky.

After
they each caught a few waves right outside Ian’s cottage, he drove her to Lilac
Court. Kira expected him to drop her off, but instead he followed her inside.
When she started to cry, he took her hand and led her up to the bathroom so she
could get ready for work. He leaned against the counter.

“Listen,
I know you’re strong. You’re coming through this, you’ve come far, but I want
you to know that I’m not going to take off and leave you here to get through
this last difficult part alone.
You
have to take the steps to complete
your healing, but I’m here for you, to hold your hand, catch you if you fall,
or step back and let you handle things on your own. Whatever it is you need me
to do, I’ll do it.”

Kira
pulled his face toward hers and kissed him hard on the lips as if to
demonstrate how tough this was, but also how much his words and presence meant
to her. 

When
dressed and nearly ready, her teary eyes gave way to laughter. “No man has ever
been in the bathroom with me while I do my routine,” she said, adding a flush
of gloss to her lips. “You know my secrets.”

“I
hope to know all of them,” he said with a wink.

“Do
you have any?”

“None
that are very interesting, I’m afraid.” He thought for a moment. “I ate a
crayon in kindergarten.”

Kira
raised her eyebrows.

“All
the other kids were eating play dough, and I thought I’d be different or
something. It was gross. I spit it out. But then the teacher saw, and I had to
clean it up.” They both laughed.

Kira
finished up, grabbed her laptop, and they quickly exited the house.

“Tonight?”

“Sure
thing.

“Maybe
you can just bring some things to my house so you can skip the morning trauma.”

“Good
idea. Oh, wait. Yoga.”

“Yoga?
Ian asked.

“I
usually take a yoga class after work with a colleague. Dinner at seven? If you
meet me in the city, I know a great Thai place.”

“Thai,
then clothes, then beach house. It’s a plan.”

 They
kissed in the driveway and reluctantly parted.

Kira
called the real estate agency, realizing that a portion of her difficulty with
parting with the house came down to a security. Growing up without a proper
home, just a room shared with her family in a house with a bunch of strangers
and no sense of rootedness, Kira believed the house on Lilac Court stood for
finally getting a home of her own. Since, she’d learned love made a home
complete. Although the custom colonial never knew that, letting go of the
symbol of home was terrifying, but the nights there were worse. She hoped it
sold quickly.

Over
a lunch of grilled portobello burgers with roasted red peppers and garlic
aioli, Alice commented, “You seem chipper today.”

Kira
filled her in about Ian. She’d never mentioned Jamie because of Frank’s warning
about the work and home separation policy, and of course, it was so soon after
Jeremy’s death. Though maybe she didn’t say anything because her heart knew it
was all lust. With Ian, there was no separation, and she said as much. He was
already a part of her life and a part of her.

“I
put my house up for sale.”

“Really?
That was your dream home.”

“Yes,
past tense, when I thought my husband and I had a future there. Now it feels—”

“Haunted?”

“Exactly.”

“Ghosts?”

“Of
the past.”

The
waiter brought more water and the conversation shifted.

 “Did
you hear about the merger?” Alice asked.

“Uh
oh, usually that means layoffs.”

“Not
this time. Henniker’s progressive,” she said as if on a TV expose. “Part of the
deal is no layoffs. Instead, they want to send one senior partner and one
junior from each company to the other. It’s a trade, to act as ambassadors
during the transition. In that way, we will get to know each other’s policies
and hopefully, make everything smoother. Maybe then they’ll cut the fat, we’ll
see.”

“Where’s
the other firm?” Kira said.

“Just
about as far away from here as you can get and still be in the continental US.
Maybe it would be a good opportunity for you to start over—San Francisco.”

“You’re
joking. Ian winters in Sausalito, just over the bridge from San Fran.” Kira had
to admit she’d wondered, okay feared, what would happen when he left for the
season.

“I
was joking about the ghosts, but no, this is happening. You should’ve gotten
the memo.”

Quickly
finishing her lunch, Kira rushed upstairs to her office and clicked through her
emails. She printed out the application, her resume, and sprinted to Frank’s
office.

“Looks
like your color’s returning,” he said with his practiced smile.

Nearly
out of breath, she handed him the papers.

“Ah,
thinking about the west coast, huh? You’re not the only one. I already got a
few apps in this morning.” He thumped his two forefingers on the short stack
sitting on his desk. “Looks like no one wants the summer to end.”

He
had no idea.

***

Kira
and Ian met outside the Thai restaurant. She’d only ever seen him in baggies,
t-shirts, sweatshirts, and of course, his wetsuit. He’d cleaned up nicely in a
pair of dark jeans and a short-sleeved button down shirt. He still looked like
a surfer, but a stylish one from a magazine spread. With his height, build, and
good looks he was male model material; practically drooling. Kira knew she was
hopelessly smitten.

As
they took their seats at a small table by the window in the ambient restaurant,
a big smile spread across Ian’s face. “This is real.” He gave her hand a
squeeze and his eyes twinkled in the low light. It was and she’d never been
happier.

They
ordered satay, pad Thai, curry, and an assortment of sides. Kira burst with the
desire to tell him about the possibility of the job transfer to San Francisco.
Then she suddenly worried that maybe things were moving too fast, or that she
might scare him off. She stopped herself, opting to wait until she knew a
little more, maybe until after her preliminary interview.

Back
at Lilac Court, they stood outside in the humid night air, delaying the
inevitable entry.

“I’m
just going to grab some things. I’ll be quick. I can do this,” Kira said aloud
by way of encouragement.

“You
can,” Ian said confidently. Kira dashed into the house, but upon entering her
bedroom, she crumbled. Ian held her in his arms until the crying subsided.

“I
can’t see. I lost a contact,” she wailed. Ian fetched her glasses from her
purse.

“You’re
even pretty when you cry. What do you need? Let’s get it and get out of here
before I start bawling too.”