Page 10 of A Daddy for Christmas 3: Nova

“Kind of like me and my balcony,” Nova admitted. “It’s my favorite place to sit in the middle of the night.”

Strange, how there was an almost equal mix of similarities and differences between us that made talking to him easy. If he’d let me monopolize his time for the next three weeks, I could show him some of the places tourists rarely went to and share some of my favorite sunset spots. My upcoming work schedule was light which would make arranging outings easy.

Yes, it would be temporary.

Yes, it would probably sting to wave goodbye.

But this was the first real spark I’d felt with anyone for quite a while, and I was going to enjoy every moment of it.

Chapter 5

(Nova)

Face down in the water, mask revealing the teeming ecosystem along the beach, was the best kind of de-stressing imaginable. All I had to do was float and pay attention to the waving coral. Fish peeked out from between spiny purple fronds and bulbous brain coral. Much to my delight, I spotted a spiky crown of thorns starfish creeping along, with a trio of blue tang lazily swimming past it. Sea urchins were everywhere, and holy shit, there were yellow and white striped butterfly fish lazily swimming around. They seemed completely unbothered by our presence above them, likely because the shadows we cast weren’t zipping around in pursuit of lunch.

I froze when I spotted mottled brown and white tentacles unfurling as a Hawaiian Day Octopus inched from its hole,blobby body filling as it began creeping over pink-tipped cauliflower coral and a curling purple coral that looked like fingers reaching out to greet us. I couldn’t recall the name from the photos and charts of reef creatures I’d scrolled through last night, desperate to recapture the knowledge I’d let slip from my mind in the three years since my last snorkeling trip.

I’d been twenty-three then and still full of optimism after my first year on the job. That was back before I truly realized how different what we did was from the local advertisement firm I’d completed my internship through. Everything there was extremely hands-on from the top down. One of my jobs had been to visit the establishment we’d be working with and record my observations about customer interaction, the services they provided, and the overall vibe of the place, which had played a big part in the type of campaigns we suggested and the overall tone of the mockups we created for them.

It had been the most fun I’d ever had on a job, and there hadn’t even been a paycheck involved, just knowledge and a chance to put the theories I’d learned into practice, guided by folks who’d taken the time to show me how the outcomes might vary when certain factors were taken into consideration. I’d always been good at thinking on my feet, to the point of being a bit brash and even impulsive in my high school and college years. In the corporate sector I’d learned the importance of toning that down, not getting ahead of myself, and never blurting out the first thought that popped into my head.

Thinking things through and keeping detailed notations on the process so I wouldn’t skip any steps along the way had become my norm and no doubt contributed to my promotion, but it was a bit sobering to see how much it had also crept into my daily life. Megan once asked if I made so many lists because I was afraid of making a mistake. It rankled to have her bring that up, but she hadn’t been wrong.

I truly had sat up late into the night with a movie on in the background that I couldn’t recall a single actor from, I’d watched so little of it. I’d been focused on studying the pictures in my phone, reacquainting myself with reef life, and brushing up on snorkel safety and rules. I’d had chunks of pineapple, strawberries, and dragon fruit for breakfast, along with a glass of yogurt layered with raspberries, and lemon water to purge the lingering cocktails from the night before.

Funny how our dinner on the beach had left me craving company after he’d dropped me back at my hotel. Though we’d exchanged phone numbers in case something came up that forced one of us to postpone our snorkeling excursion, I hadn’t been able to muster up the courage to text with a bunch of small talk in case he happened to be busy. So, I’d claimed a spot at the bar, nibbling cocktail shrimp in between Mai Tai’s, my all-time favorite drink, especially when the bartender poured like she had a personal stake in easing your troubles.

There seemed to be a bunch of us too, or maybe it was me taking the time to really look around the room, rather than spending it with my phone glued to my face. After nine, there weren’t any couples left in the space, just lonely singles, mostly men like me, dressed down but still unable to fully shake the formalities of corporate living. There were a few telltale characteristics we all shared, like pale skin, neatly styled hair, or, in my case, the bun I’d tied my wavy tresses up in the moment I’d returned from the beach, and the loafers.

I’d picked up the most comfortable pair of sandals I’d ever worn during my excursion into town for food and had been more than comfortable wearing them to the bar with one of several pairs of cutoff jean shorts I usually kept around for hiking. I’d thrown one pair of slacks in my bag and two casual button-downs, both short-sleeved and covered in leaves and palm trees, just in case something came up that necessitated mypopping into a conference call or going out to a more upscale establishment.

Honestly, I didn’t care if I never dined in a building again after eating on the sand and enjoying lunch at the dockside oyster bar and breakfast on the hotel deck beside the restaurant they kept open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. It was a boon that I’d booked at a place that often served as a conference center, but I’d done it intentionally, since it was the accommodations my company booked whenever we held meetings with our clients here. Planning was easy when you knew what to expect, and predictable too.

Damn, there was that world again.

My life had been all about order and structure as of late.

Breathing through the snorkel tube, I could almost taste the sunshine, edged with a hint of sea salt, as I spied a spotted eagle ray, gliding past like a ghost. Everything down here mirrored the muffled serenity I usually found when I lay soaking in my bathtub. It was a lot more fun out here, though, with more to see, like the bumpy sea cucumbers inching along like the spiny slugs they were, spitting water and looking like giant creeping turds as they slowly walked over coral and sand, searching for something to eat.

I knew the feeling.

The one drawback to a light breakfast was that I tended to burn it off fast, especially on an outing like this. Robbie’s fins came into view as he kicked a lazy rhythm, pointing when our eyes met through the goggles.

I followed the line of his finger to where an eel's snout poked from between red sea whips and white-plumed anemone. Peek-withdraw, peek, withdraw—it flexed its ribbon-like body, half emerged, then retreated again as a school of clownfish swam in circles around a clump of sun coral.

Like with the ray, the eel was a creature I’d never spotted in the wild before. The fish seemed far less bothered than the ones I’d encountered in group snorkeling activities, maybe because there always seemed to be someone kicking a bit too hard. Out here, where it was just me and Robbie lazily bobbing along, it was like we were invisible. Disappointment hit when we reached the end of the reef, and instead of turning around, Robbie lowered his legs and tread water, removing the snorkel from between his lips and waiting for me to take off the mask before trying to hold a conversation.

“There’s a seafood shack just on the edge of the beach there,” he said, pointing to a spot mostly hidden in trees. Now that my face was out of the water, I could smell all kinds of tantalizing aromas wafting from it, reaching all the way out to the water where we bobbed. “Didn’t know if you were hungry or not, but they make amazing lobster rolls and mocktails if you’re interested.”

“You had me at seafood snack.”

“They’ve got shrimp and scallops on hoagie buns dressed with a slightly spicy mayo that’s super buttery and melts in your mouth if you’re not up for lobster. Personally, I’m going to get the mini-sub trio so I can get one of each and the crab salad too.”

“Okay, sold. I’ll take that and whatever mocktail has the most raspberries in it. That seems to be my flavor of the day.”

“Flavor of the day, huh? How do you determine what it’s going to be?”

“Usually my breakfast determines it,” I explained. “Today’s involved raspberry jam and whole berries layered between creamy vanilla yogurt. Totally decadent and one of the best parfaits I’ve ever tasted. I was still licking the flavor off my lips on the walk down here.”