The Thing About Sunsets
Silver linings and second chances
Part Two (to read Part One, click here)
Henry’s head snapped up and out of his thoughts, his eyes an impossibly pale green beneath the bright sun, his eyebrows drawn in concern. “What?”
Reese jumped up from her spot on the ground and dusted off her jeans. “Let’s rent a couple of kayaks!” Hopefully, her forced excitement wasn’t too transparent.
He didn’t move from his spot on the ground. “Are you okay?”
It was true that she was more of an indoor cat, and kayaking would be her first choice of activity never. But she could do this — for him. “Come on! We can’t waste this view!”
He stood cautiously. “Let me get this straight. You want to go kayaking? On the water? In September? It’s cold out there, you know.”
Reese hesitated — she hadn’t thought about the cold. But she stuck to her guns. “Sure, why not?”
Henry chuckled, though the sound wasn’t as enthusiastic as she’d hoped.
Crossing her arms, she popped her hip and shoulder. “Hey, I can do this. And you know it’d be fun.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, Reese, but I don’t know if I feel like it.”
It was hard to tell if his pushback was for her benefit or because of everything that had been going on in his life, but when he snuck a longing glance at the water, Reese found the strength to hold her ground. “Come on, I want to try it. You can teach me.”
Henry turned to the water thoughtfully, energy building around him. Then his forced smile finally broke with genuine excitement. “Okay, you win.”
Before she knew it, they were hauling kayaks to the edge of a lagoon. Her hunched back ached from the weight. As she straightened, she marveled at the quiet, silt-colored water backing the long sliver of beach. Clumps of tall grass sprouted along the banks.
“This doesn’t look too bad,” she commented, smiling as she imagined pulling herself easily through the calm shallows.
Henry chuckled. “This is just where we get in. That’s where we hit the lake.” He pointed to the outlet to the bay.
Following his point, her smile disappeared. The lake seemed to stretch on forever, vast and unforgiving. She shuddered at the idea of ocean-like tides pulling her far from solid land.
“That’s what I meant,” she mumbled, gripping her oar nervously in her unpracticed hands.
“Don’t worry.” He handed her a life jacket, ski cap, and mittens. “You’ve got this. And the sea caves are worth seeing.”
She snapped on her vest, then pulled on the hat and gloves. “Let’s do this,” she said through gritted teeth as she climbed into her kayak.
“By the way,” he added, “We should probably be wearing wetsuits this time of year. Just don’t fall in. I hear hypothermia sucks.” He eased himself through the water in the direction of the outlet.
“Nice last words of encouragement!” She shivered.
Her heart racing with determination and terror, she dipped her oar and pulled herself into the clear Lake Superior waters. She moved her kayak with swiftness, her arms empowered by her oar. She glanced over the side of her kayak. Multi-colored rocks sprawled the lake’s floor beneath pristine depths. Pushing the thought of hypothermia aside, she focused on trying to keep up with Henry as he hauled himself along the length of the beach.
“Wait up!” she called breathlessly. She huffed as she pulled her oar through the water.
“Keep up! I want you to see these caves, and we have to hurry if we want to make the last ferry back!” His voice was smooth — he’d obviously barely broken a sweat.
As they rounded the tip of the crescent bay, beach sand gave way to rock formations towering above the water. Tree roots peeked precariously over the edge of the cliffs, and cubby holes in the stone begged for exploration, but a deep ache taking hold of Reese’s arms interrupted any attempt to sightsee. Lifting the oar gradually became more difficult, and her movements no longer felt graceful. Her lungs protested against the cold air she pulled in frequently. Letting her last bit of momentum take her into the mouth of the tiny sea cave Henry already occupied, she let her arms flop onto the front of the kayak. Her fingers could barely grasp her oar handle. After a few moments of heavy breathing, she chanced a look at Henry. He seemed to be making a solid effort not to crack a smile, but he failed.
“You alive?”
Reese glared at him, trying hard to remind herself that this was all her idea. “I’m fine,” she hissed through her teeth. “I told you…this…would be…fun.”
Henry laughed, the sound reverberating around the small cavity of eroded stone. The way he closed his eyes to let the sound erupt from his chest made her smile. It even eased the guilt that had driven her to his door this morning in the first place. Slightly, anyways. As he quieted and the echoes dissipated, her heart slowed to the rhythm of her rocking kayak.
“You managed to find a silver lining in today, so I need to find one too. You know what mine is?” Though he spoke quietly, the cave acoustics brought his words to her with little effort.
She frowned. “No, what?”
His gaze held hers. The pale green of his eyes grabbed hold of something inside her just as they used to, and her breath caught.
“You,” he said.
Her heart picked up speed again. “Me?”
He smiled sadly. “I’m glad I got this time with you. I’ve missed you.”
Reese looked down at her oar as her kayak rocked in the gently churning water. “I can’t be your silver lining,” she said shakily.
“Pretty sure that’s my call,” he said.
She gripped her oar tighter as her heart beat faster and her eyes stung with regret. Taking a shaky breath, she wiped her eyes. Here was her second chance to be the kind of friend that brings over a puzzle to distract a grieving boy, then stays to help put the pieces together.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I iced you out back in high school. I was…I was jealous.”
“Jealous? Of who?”
The surprise in his voice kept her eyes down. If she looked up, she’d lose her nerve. She could also really use access to her jeans to rub her sweaty palms against; her oar was becoming slippery.
“Of Melanie.”
“Oh. Oooh.”
“Yeah.”
Oh was about as much as she expected. Oh contained an entire narrative that she didn’t really want to get into. So, she held her breath, afraid to break the spell she’d created with her words as the remainder of their friendship teetered on the precipice of his reaction.
He pressed his lips together as he rotated his oar in both hands. “You shutting me out hurt a lot. Especially after you told me…”
She finished his sentence in her head. After she told him no. That it wasn’t a good idea.
“But this isn’t all on you,” he continued. “I got swept up in what I thought love was supposed to be. And me asking Melanie was your idea, so I talked myself into thinking you wouldn’t be pissed if I prioritized her over you. But then…you definitely seemed pissed, and I didn’t notice until it was too late. Then I got pissed. So, I gave up, like an asshole, when I should have tried harder. I’m sorry too, Reese.”
Glancing up, she found his kind eyes, wide with hope. She lifted her oar and held it out to him, an open hand awaiting a handshake. Her muscles screamed in protest. “Here’s to starting over?”
He grinned widely. He pulled himself through the water and brought up his oar to tap hers. “To starting over.”
They pulled their kayaks back to shore side-by-side — slowly, for the sake of Reese’s arms — their smiles sharing a shy secret.
The ferry plowed through Lake Superior to the mainland, facing a solar canvas as the sun descended toward the Wisconsin shoreline. As they approached the terminal, glistening rays reached for the other Apostle Islands dotting the deepening blue waters to the north.
Reese sighed. “I wish I had some paints and a brush. But then…”
She stopped, realizing she was about to sound crazy. Well, she’d already started the thought. Might as well spit the rest out. “But then my curse would kick in.”
“Curse?” Henry asked, moving the truck off the ramp and onto concrete.
Reese hesitated, regretting speaking out loud about the weird thoughts in her head.
“Sunsets are my curse. By the time I start trying to paint them, the color shades and blends change, and I end up missing the moment trying to capture the big picture.”
Henry maneuvered into a parking spot that faced the hues bleeding over the darkening sky. “Those pesky sunsets.”
“Are we getting out here?”
“Nah.” Henry unbuckled his seatbelt but left the truck running. “I just felt like breaking this curse of yours.”
“You want me to paint?”
His light green eyes glinted, framed in a wild crown of dark, wind-blown hair. The years of coldness and awkwardness melted away, taking Reese back to a time when their friendship was easy.
Gesturing to the sunset, he said, “I want you to enjoy a moment instead of trying to catch it.”
Reese blushed. With the radio playing low, Henry invited her to rest her head in the nook of his shoulder. Craving his warmth and affection, she obliged him. His arm wrapped around her comfortably. When the tips of their fingers touched, neither moved away. He reached to cover her hand, sending a swirl of butterflies through her stomach. Her fingers moved to interlace with his, and he squeezed her hand. She vainly tried to keep herself from beaming as the sunset’s colors slowly darkened into night.
Her eyes drooped as her mind clouded with sleep. The now quiet canvas of deepening hues, dotted with the first star, was painted across the sky behind her eyelids. Her body protested waking when Henry adjusted to start the drive home.
Blinking sleep from her eyes, Reese broke the quiet. “Thank you.” She yawned widely.
Turning onto the state road that would take them home, Henry asked, “For what?”
Reese looked at him as he watched the road, less nervous than before about being caught in the act.
“For making me enjoy the moment.”
The smile she needed found her as he gave her a sideways glance.
“The least I can do for my silver lining.”
