Page 33 of Marriage is a Shore Thing (Wilks Beach #2)

thirty-two

Geneva

Normally, I’d stay in the building and work on the business side of running The Garage Gym in the hour between Saturday morning classes, but today, I lock the doors and jog down the road to Joanna’s house.

It’d been harder than I’d anticipated not telling Van last night that I want things to be different, especially since he was lit up like a sparkler after our successful heist. I seriously thought he wouldn’t go to bed, like a kid on Christmas Eve.

His endearing energy made a goofy grin split my face, but I didn’t fight it like I used to.

I just let myself be happy alongside him.

Today, the nerves over finally telling Joanna the truth have been niggling at me.

I’d been unable to eat breakfast and was more distant in class than I’d been in weeks.

I’d heard through the Wilks Beach rumor mill that being married has softened my teaching style.

None of my boxers said it to my face, though.

Doing so would only have the reverse effect, and they’re smarter than that.

The sound of Betty Davis’s thick, gritty bassline reverberating through the front door makes my shoulders settle slightly. Joanna usually listens to the unapologetically bold singer when she’s in a good mood.

I take a moment to tilt my face toward the warm sunshine of this unseasonably warm day and settle my breathing.

Then my gaze falls to the garden beds on either side of Joanna’s doorstep, bursting with wildflowers.

Purple asters, goldenrod, and Queen Anne’s lace preen from their garden beds, almost tickling your ankles.

Five years ago, they were filled with manicured blooms, tended by a gardener at my father’s command.

At that time, I stood on this doorstep with a different kind of news, but what I need to tell Joanna today is nowhere near as heartbreaking as that. She might not take this news well today, but I know in the end, Joanna and I will be okay.

“Oh, hey, honey.” Joanna answers the door with a blue bandana tied around her curls, cleaning gloves on her fingers. She leans farther out of the doorway, looking for Van. “Where’s your hubby?”

“Surfing with Nick.” Or at least that’s what his note said when I woke up this morning. “Can I come in?”

Joanna brightens. “Of course.”

In the kitchen, she pulls off her gloves and turns down the music. “Do you want some coffee?”

I debate saying yes, just to have something to do with my trembling hands, but then straighten my spine and gesture to the table. “No, thank you. Could we sit for a minute?”

Her blue eyes flicker with worry, but I give her a soft smile. It took accidentally marrying a stranger to show me that it’s okay to be more open—with myself and with those I love.

I shock her by taking her hand when she settles it on the table. “I need to talk to you about Van…”

Joanna rotates her family ring between her fingers as I finish telling her the truth. I handed it to her after explaining all the details of last night’s successful retrieval.

“So I’d love to have this ring, but I want it under the right circumstances.” I pause, biting my lip. “When I’m ready.”

She nods to herself before taking a deep breath and lifting her chin. “I’m sorry I put so much pressure on you to be happily married.”

“You didn’t,” I say firmly. “You were just excited about news you thought was real, which is totally understandable. And besides…” Churning, uneasy energy swirls in my stomach, but I force myself to verbalize what has been flitting in the back of my mind for weeks.

“I want things to work out between Van and me. I…I really like him.”

The steady warmth in my chest feels more significant than the word ‘like,’ but saying I like Van when I never discuss or even tolerate emotions in conversations is monumental enough. The last thing I need is to accidentally send Joanna into premature grandbaby-planning mode.

Though…

My mind flips through an imaginary montage of Van as a father.

He’d happily let his nails be painted or wear a tutu and a tiara for a stuffed animal tea party.

He’d probably make the best pillow forts and encourage our kids to take pony rides on his strong back.

If there was a craft project or school spirit day, he’d be all over it, which honestly, is a good thing because I’m pretty sure I’d be terrible at all those things.

I’d never thought about having kids, just like I’d never thought about getting married, because it didn’t seem possible. No one wants a prickly cactus for a mother. But maybe, with Van there to soften out my rough edges, we could make the perfect parenting team.

A hopeful smile lifts my lips.

Normally, this would be where I’d slam all these feelings—these sticky, gross emotions—into a black spiked lockbox and throw them in a corner. But instead, I sit with the uncomfortable resonance and slowly inhale.

None of this might come to fruition, and if it doesn’t, that’s okay. Or rather, I’ll be okay. I’ve already proven that I’m strong enough to handle whatever life throws at me. But it’s also safe for me to dream a bit, to think positively about the future and then fight for it.

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” Joanna starts, and my abs flex on instinct, “but Van really likes you too.”

My forehead wrinkles. “Why would I take that the wrong way?”

She tilts her head from side to side, hesitating. “Because you have a tendency to push people away when they show you affection.”

Oh.

Yep. I totally do that.

“I’m…” It feels as if Joanna just sucker punched me. “I’m working on that.”

The soft smile lifting her lips is breathtaking, like the first light spilling over the ocean’s edge at dawn. She leans down to pet Princess, who’s wandered into the kitchen. Demon will probably hide under the couch until after I leave, which is fine with me. That cat lives up to his name.

“What now?” Joanna asks, unable to tamp down her growing grin.

This is the part I’m not quite sure about. My fingers subconsciously twist my silicone ring. I want to explore a real relationship with Van, but I don’t really want to take this off. I don’t want him to move out. I don’t want anything to change, which is probably incredibly selfish of me.

I just… I like the little life we built together—even if it’s not real.

I like hearing his velvety voice singing those obnoxious love songs downstairs while I get ready in the mornings.

I like that we can talk about an upcoming boxing match and the latest celebrity gossip with equal enthusiasm.

I like dinners with him on the patio with Stella, Prunella, and Hank quietly going to roost.

“I don’t know.” My shoulders bunch as my gaze drops to the table.

Joanna’s hand settles over my fidgeting ones. “When you decide, let me know. Until then, your secret is safe with me.”

The moment is soft and nurturing and everything I wished I’d had for so many years. I flip my fingers and squeeze hers, meeting Joanna’s warm gaze. After a shared smile, a thought occurs to me. I want to show Joanna the same care and support she’s always shown me.

“What about you?”

Her freckled forehead crinkles. “What about me?”

“You’d said that you’d been having a hard time lately.”

“Oh…about that.” Joanna’s cheeks pink as she averts her eyes. “This all made me realize that I’d been worrying too much about everyone else’s lives and not putting enough focus on my own. So”—she takes a huge breath and lets it out in a rush—“I’ve decided to start dating.”

“You have?”

One of the things we bonded over when I moved to Wilks Beach was our mutual distrust of men. But things have definitely changed for me, so maybe…

Joanna picks at her cuticle, suddenly looking half her age.

“There was this boy—” Her sentence breaks off with a short laugh.

“Well, he’s a man now. We knew each other in high school.

I always thought he was sweet, but he was so shy.

I didn’t think he was interested. Anyway, dozens of years and two divorces later, he’s taking me out on his boat next weekend.

” She flaps her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous for a date.

I mean, I haven’t worn mascara in years. ”

A smile curls my lips as I lean forward, excitement sparking down my forearms. “Can I help you get ready?”

Joanna looks up, her shoulders dropping from her ears. “I would love that.”

I’m mentally curating Joanna’s ideal eyeshadow palette when I leave ten minutes later, so I don’t notice Cade rounding the neighbor’s large hedge until her bubble-gum pink hair nearly flies into my mouth as we collide. Her arms are over her head as she…

Is she taking a picture of the sky?

“Sorry,” I tell her when we separate. “I was in my head.”

Cade laughs. “I’m always in my head. Hey, check this out.” She shows me the image on her camera app. “Doesn’t that cloud look like a rhinestone cowboy hat?”

“Uh…”

The picture on her phone looks like a regular white cloud to me. If I squint, it might be considered hat shaped.

Cade lifts her chin skyward, grinning ear to ear. “Oh, now it’s a turtle.”

I don’t glance up, taking her word on it.

“I’m actually glad I ran into you, because I wanted to talk to you.”

Surprise flashes in Cade’s blue eyes, but she quickly schools her expression, slipping her hands into the pockets of her short purple overalls.

“What about?”

This is something that’s been bugging me since that first planning night, but being new to real friendships, I wasn’t sure how to handle it. In my old world, exclusion and limited access were as common as spray tans and forced smiles.

I’d known that Vivian had asked Summer and Nick to join the heist, because Nick pouted when Summer shot it down.

When Summer explained she didn’t want them lying to her police officer brother for the rest of their lives, Nick took it as a sign she planned on keeping him around.

But I should have talked to Cade sooner, and it shouldn’t have taken literally running into her to make me realize just how wrong excluding her was.

“I want to apologize because last night we—”

“Oh yeah, the heist!” Cade practically squeals. “How did it go?”

“You knew?”

“Yeah. Vivian asked if I was interested, but since I have zero chill and no covert capacity, I figured you’d be more successful without me.

Also, that kind of chaos is William’s worst nightmare.

” She pulls her lips to the side, thinking.

“Secondary to explosive, Christmas-themed clutter. I love him, so sometimes I skip things for his mental health, and other times, he pushes himself past his comfort zone for me.”

I blink, processing that information as Cade rolls right along.

“It sounded like two truckloads of fun, though.” She grabs my wrist, pulling us toward the ocean. “Tell me everything.”

“I have to head back to the gym to teach my second class.”

“Not a problem.” She flips us with surprising strength. “I’ll be your escort.”

The corner of my mouth kicks up when Cade wraps my hand around her left arm, patting it twice and accidentally leaving a few specks of green glitter behind.

“Sorry,” she says as the stubborn glitter refuses to budge.

“It’s fine,” I tell her. And honestly, it is.

Because who doesn’t need a quirky, glitter-covered friend in their lives? I used to think I didn’t, but now I see how wrong I’ve been.

Cade squints at me. “Who are you, and what have you done with Geneva?”

An easy laugh escapes me.

Her eyes widen. “Okay, now I’m really concerned. You’re not in your standard black. You’re speaking instead of grunting. And I don’t think I’ve seen your lips lift that much…like, ever.”

I glance down at my wine-red tank. It’s one of several new athletic tops I purchased in addition to a few sundresses when I went shopping with Van.

A memory surges forward, heating me from the inside.

Van’s gaze darkened each time I stepped out of the dressing room, his hands gripping the arms of his chair as if that were the only thing keeping him from reaching for me.

“My leggings are still black,” I say, dragging myself back to the present. “And I’ll teach my next class with my usual strict, no-nonsense efficiency.”

Cade tilts her head, assessing. “Yeah. I guess you’re still Taylor Swift in her Reputation era, but the Lover transition is clearly on the horizon.”

At my puzzled expression, she giggles and pulls me down Sand Bend Road. “Never mind. Tell me about the heist. Don’t leave out any details.”

A flare of caution sparks in my mind. The more people that know about what happened, the messier it might be when Henry realizes we took back what was rightfully Joanna’s. But then I remember that this community—my community—always has each other’s backs.

“I was almost caught,” I say, diving right into the juiciest detail.

Cade’s exaggerated gasp pulls another chuckle from me.

“Start from the beginning,” she demands—and I do.