“Jesus didn’t say that.”
“True,” Stephanie agreed, sitting up. She removed her glasses, stared through them, then wiped them on a towel. “But again, who cares?” She squinted up at Gabby. “Did you really want to carry coolers or tents all the way to the beach? Trust me, the experience is overrated.” After adjusting her top, she rose from her spot. “Okay, the coast is clear. We’re good to go.” She slung her beach bag over her shoulder. “You gotta know when to be lazy. Done correctly, it’s an art form that benefits everyone.”
Gabby hesitated. “I don’t know why, but I think I like the way you think.”
Stephanie laughed. “Of course you do,” she said. “It’s human nature to be lazy. But it’s good to know I’m not the only one who understands that essential truth.”
As soon as Gabby started to deny it, Stephanie jumped overboard, the splash rising to the lip of the boat. “C’mon,” she said, not letting Gabby finish, “I’m just kidding. And by the way, don’t think twice about anything you did or didn’t do. Like I said, these people draw meaning from doing these little things. It makes them feel manly and motherly, which is just the way the world should work. As single women, all we have to do is make sure to enjoy it.”
Setting up the camp—like getting off and unloading the boat—was informally ritualized, with everyone apparently knowing exactly what to do. A pop-up tent was set in place, blankets spread, and the charcoal lit. In keeping with her inactivity on the boat, Stephanie simply grabbed a beer and a towel, picked a spot, and resumed sunbathing. Gabby, unsure of what else to do, spread her towel and did exactly the same thing. She felt the effects of the sun almost immediately and lay there trying to ignore the fact that everyone else—aside from Stephanie—seemed to be doing something.
“You need lotion,” Stephanie instructed her. Without raising her head, she pointed to the bag she’d carried with her. “Grab the tube with fifty SPF. With that pale skin of yours, you’ll be a lobster in half an hour if you don’t. It’s got zinc in it.”
Gabby reached for Stephanie’s bag. She took a few moments to spread the lotion; the sun did have a terrible way of punishing her if she missed a spot. Unlike her sisters or her mother, she’d taken after her Irish-skinned father. It was one of the middling curses of her life.
When she was ready, she lay down on her towel, still feeling guilty about the fact that she wasn’t doing anything to help set up or get the lunch ready to go.
“How was it with Travis?”
“Fine,” Gabby said.
“Just to remind you, he’s my brother, you know.”
Gabby turned her head to shoot Stephanie a questioning look.
“Hey,” said Stephanie, “I was only reminding you so that you’d realize how well I know him.”
“What does that matter?”
“I think he likes you.”
“And I think you believe we’re still in seventh grade.”
“What? You don’t care?”
“No.”
“Because you have a boyfriend?”
“Among other reasons.”
Stephanie laughed. “Oh, that’s good. If I didn’t know you, I might have even believed you.”
“You don’t know me!”
“Oh . . . I know you. Believe it or not, I know exactly who you are.”
“Oh yeah? Where am I from?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me about my family.”
“I can’t.”
“Then you really don’t know me, do you?”
After a moment, Stephanie rolled over to face her. “Yes,” she said, “I do.” She couldn’t hide the challenge in her tone. “Okay, how about this? You’re a good girl and always have been, but deep down, you think there’s more to life than always following the rules, and there’s a part of you that craves the unknown. If you’re honest with yourself, Travis is part of that. You’re selective when it comes to sex, but once you commit to someone, the standards you would normally hold yourself to go out the window. You think you’ll marry your boyfriend, but can’t help but wonder why you don’t have a ring on your finger yet. You love your family, but you wanted to make your own decisions about who you become, which is why you live here. Even so, you worry your choices will earn your family’s disapproval. How am I doing so far?”
As she’d spoken, Gabby had grown pale. Interpreting a direct hit, Stephanie propped herself on an elbow. “You want me to go on?”
“No,” Gabby said.
“I was right, wasn’t I?”
Gabby exhaled sharply. “Not about everything.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Where was I wrong?”
Instead of answering, Gabby shook her head and rolled back onto her towel. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Gabby expected Stephanie to persist, but instead, Stephanie simply shrugged and lay back on her towel, as if she’d never said anything at all.
Gabby could hear the sounds of children frolicking in the surf and distant, indistinguishable strains of conversation. Her head spun at Stephanie’s assessment; it was as if the woman had known her all her life and were privy to her darkest secrets.
“By the way, in case you’re freaking out, I should probably let you know I’m psychic,” Stephanie remarked. “Weird, but true. Came from my grandmother, as far as I could tell. The woman was famous for predicting the weather.”
Gabby sat up as a wave of relief washed over her, even though she knew the concept was preposterous. “Really?”
Stephanie laughed again. “No, of course not! My grandmother watched Let’s Make a Deal for years and never once beat the contestants. But be honest. I was right on the money, wasn’t I?”
Gabby’s thoughts went full circle once more, leaving her almost dizzy. “But how . . . ?”
“Easy,” Stephanie said, lying back down. “I just inserted your ‘amazingly personal experiences’ into pretty much every woman who ever lived. Well, except for the part about Travis. I guessed about that. But it’s pretty amazing, huh? I study that, too, by the way. I’ve been part of half a dozen studies, and it always amazes me that once you cut through the clutter, people are pretty much the same. Especially through adolescence and early adulthood. For the most part, people go through the same experiences and think the same things, but somehow no one ever escapes the belief that his experience is unique in every conceivable way.”
Gabby lay back on her towel, deciding it might be best if she simply ignored Stephanie for a while. As much as she liked her, the woman made her head spin way too frequently.
“Oh, in case you were curious,” Stephanie remarked, “Travis isn’t seeing anyone. He’s not only single, but he’s eligible.”
“I wasn’t curious.”
“Since you have a boyfriend, right?”
“Right. But even if I didn’t have a boyfriend, I wouldn’t have been curious.”
Stephanie laughed. “Yes, of course. How could I have been so wrong? I guess I must have been fooled by the way you keep staring at him.”
“I haven’t been staring.”
“Oh, don’t be so touchy. After all, he’s been staring at you, too.”
Ten
From her spot on her towel, Gabby inhaled the scent of charcoal, hot dogs, burgers, and chicken wafting on a gentle breeze. Despite the breeze—and the lotion—Gabby’s skin felt as if it were beginning to sizzle. It sometimes struck her as ironic that her ancestors from Scotland and Ireland had bypassed northern climates with similar cloudy weather to move to a place where prolonged exposure to the sun practically guaranteed melanoma in people like them—or, at the very least, wrinkles, which was the reason her mother wore hats even if her time outside was limited to walking to and from the car. The fact that Gabby was subjecting herself to sun damage was something she didn’t want to think about, because the truth was she liked having a tan, and getting a tan felt sort of good. Besides, in just a little while she’d put on her shirt
again and force herself to sit in the shade.
Stephanie had been uncharacteristically quiet since her last comment. In some people, that would have struck Gabby as discomfort or shyness; in Stephanie, it came across as the kind of confidence Gabby had always secretly coveted. Because Stephanie was so comfortable with herself, she made Gabby feel comfortable around her, which, she had to admit, was a feeling she had been missing lately. For a long time, she hadn’t been comfortable at home; she still wasn’t comfortable at work; and she was less than confident about where things were going with Kevin.
As for Travis—the man definitely made her uncomfortable. Well, when he wasn’t wearing his shirt, anyway. Sneaking a peek, she spotted him sitting in the sand near the water’s edge, building drip castles with the three toddlers. When their attention seemed to waver, he rose from his spot and chased them into the shallow surf, the sound of their joyous screams echoing through the air. Travis seemed to be having as much fun as they were, and the sight of him made her want to smile. She forced herself not to, on the off chance he might see it and get the wrong idea.