Part 39 (1/2)

”We would have come anyway.”

”Manatees never forget,” she said.

Lucas turned to her, raised his eyebrows.

”When I was looking this all up last night, I read that about manatees. How their closest relative is the elephant and how they can remember miles and miles of coastlines, places to find warm water. Places like this. Why don't I remember it?” She sounded like she was about to cry.

”Hey,” he said. ”It's okay.” He stepped toward her, face-to-face, put his hands on her upper arms, a half embrace.

Afraid to give in to this.

Afraid to scare her off.

”We could try to hop the gate,” he said, releasing her and turning back to the park. ”See if we can find the penny machine.”

She pointed at a few security cameras up high on posts.

”Could do it anyway.” He shrugged. Just inside the gate, the sign on the gift shop where the penny-stretching machine probably was hung crooked on its mount.

”Not now,” she said. ”Come on.”

They walked down a long path and followed a wooden walkway along the water and found themselves on the beach, where three piers stretched out into the water. The pier Scarlett chose to walk was im possibly narrow-so she led-and finally they stood at the end, an onsh.o.r.e wind pressing hard against them, like it wanted them to go back to wherever they came from.

”Do you think you gave me that penny?” she asked. ”That we were here together?”

He liked the idea of it, that they were getting closer to answers, and to each other, too. ”It's the only thing that makes sense.”

”It seems important,” she said. ”That we remember. Like there might be some clues in that story? In us?”

He nodded, took her hand, and held it up to study it.

To look for a birthmark or some clue that he'd maybe held it before.

She had the remains of bloodred polish on two of five nails.

She squeezed his hand, released it, and turned.

This-being here with her-felt like some kind of reset b.u.t.ton or rebirth.

He liked knowing at least one thing about himself for sure.

He loved her.

Or had . . .

When they circled back to the car, they were holding hands, and he couldn't recall the moment they'd done that, reached out and held on.

They pa.s.sed a small security booth near the manatee center gate.

The guard poked his head out his window and smiled. ”Haven't seen you two in a while.”

Scarlett let go.

AVERY.

The bride was beyond annoying.

It was like she seriously thought the whole world revolved around her and Ballroom B of the Hotel Bonavista on Sanibel Island. She was like some Disney princess who hadn't gotten the memo about how women were supposed to have brains and lives of their own and not just be little eye-candy damsels in distress who lived for true love's kiss-the wedding of their dreams. Every time the woman turned her head, it was like she was posing for a picture with an Instagram setting that filtered out humility. Avery was half tempted to write ”You're not all that!” on the big canvas guests had been encouraged to sign during the c.o.c.ktail hour.

Now the couple was gearing up for their first dance and Avery wasn't sure she could stand to watch, thought maybe she could go hide in the photo booth in the corner where guests were expected to put on funny hats and gla.s.ses and pose.

They'd taken dance cla.s.ses.

They'd picked that played-out John Legend song.

There was no escape.

She had to watch the whole dance.

Then the song ended and people clapped and the bride preened and the DJ asked other couples to join them on the dance floor.

Sam took his seat.

Avery wasn't sure if she was irritated or relieved.

Then it started: ”How long have you and Sam been going out?”

”Sam says you're involved in the school play?”