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Out through the living room’s picture window, I see the flurry of snow falling past the porch light. A fire’s blazing in the hearth.
My dad headed to bed a half-hour ago. I’ll do the same soon. My car is parked out front, which is where I left it while I was away. I hope it doesn’t have too much snow on it by the time I get out there to clear it off.
I tuck my leg up underneath me and inch the phone closer, hoping she can take in the intricate pattern on Chester’s shell.
“Mm-hm, lovely.” She sips her tea. “Show me more of Matt. I’d love to see more of the two of you since you didn’t send as many as I hoped. Not to nit-pick or anything. I know you were busy having fun.”
I will tell her.
Soon. Maybe even tonight. I haven’t quite figured that out.
A happy thrill of anticipation zips through me. I have a boyfriend.
A real boyfriend. Not a fictitious one.
Goodbye, Matt.
Hello, Jack.
I smile to myself and swipe to the next photo: another Chester shot.
I’m stalling because I don’t know how she’ll take it. Of course, she will be happy to hear that I’m dating a guy. Will she also be upset about my fib? I don’t know how rocky this traverse will be, so I’m bracing for the worst.
The worst won’t be that bad. A few snippy comments. Maybe a guilt trip about all the details I made up, like the dumb shoe store and how he attended Brown University.
I slide my index finger over the screen again, and yet another photograph of Chester pops up—this one even closer. “Whoa, okay, another one of Chester.”
“You sure took enough of him, sweetie. Let’s skip ahead.”
“The Turtle Ambassador program that the resort is part of is making a big difference,” I tell her as I skim past about twenty more images of the green sea turtle. “They used to be endangered, but now that this program is up and running, the numbers of healthy adult turtles are way up. When these guys are fully grown, they can get up to 350 pounds. Isn’t that wild? A groundskeeper there, this sweet guy Akoni, told me all about it.”
“Mm-hm, how about that,” she mutters, totally uninterested.
Then, “Oh! There he is!” She’s perked up now as if I just told her the resort was in the midst of saving thousands of endangered species.
Nope.
She’s just excited to spot her own favorite creature in the wild.
This one is my man, with his sea-breeze tousled hair, washboard abs, and low-slung boardshorts. In the image, he’s walking toward me. His chest is lit up with golden afternoon sunlight. His calves bulge, and his bare feet disappear into the sand.
He’s looking at the camera—and at me, I remember—with adoration.
His smile was for me.
I remember that when he lay down beside me, he made me put my phone down.
“No more photos.”
“But I want to remember this.”
“I’ll give you something better to remember…” Then he kissed me.
I smile again, thinking of it.
“Just look at him!” My mother snatches the phone from my hands and brings it closer to her face. She drops her reading glasses off the top of her head so they’re perched on her nose.
Now, she examines him like I wanted her to examine the turtle shell.
