Page 62 of The Summer Club
Andi was too consumed by the magic of the little shack to speak. She walked carefully around the outside of it, running her hands over its treasures: a rusted anchor leaning against a post, a broken lobster trap, a plastic statue of a bird nailed to the fence. “No Vacancy” said a tattered sign, painted in red lettering, affixed to the doorframe. She peered inside. People had carved their names into the wooden boards. “It’s like a little driftwood clubhouse. A shrine to the ocean.”
“Yeah, there’s something spiritual about it,” Nate agreed. “People come out here to meditate. Others to take a selfie. Some folks leave a little talisman after they visit. If you come back during the day, there’s usually a guestbook inside you can sign.”
Andi climbed inside the small interior and sat. The three exterior walls were loosely fashioned sections of wood and the breeze whistled through the slats. Sure enough, there was a small guestbook resting on a piece of wood. Looking up, she could see the stars through sections of the tattered roof. “It’s magical.” She had to show Molly! And Hugh, and the rest of them. How had she not heard of this little shack before this summer?
After a while, Nate poked his head in. “May I?”
It was cozy inside, but Andi happily scooted over. They sat in silence, listening to the ocean and staring out at the sky.
“It feels like we’re the only two people on Earth,” she whispered. “Like we’re in some kind of quirky fairy tale.”
Even in the dim light, she could see him smile. “That’s why I wanted to show it to you. I knew you’d get it.”
Andi was touched by his admission. But then a terrible thought occurred to her. “What if this place gets washed away? It’s so close to the water.”
“Part of the fairy tale, right? Nothing lasts forever.”
The thought of that made her suddenly feel very small. Nate reached around and pulled her closer and Andi let her head rest on his shoulder. It felt surreal and yet so natural.
“The ocean always gives back,” he reminded her. “The dune shack has made it six years already. But I guess if it gets washed away, then something new will wash up. And people can start again.”
She liked the sound of that. Rebuilding. It was what she had tried to do all year. With Molly and their new house. With her sense of self, as a newly single woman in the world. At times it consumed and exhausted her. At others, she was overcome by the sense of possibility. “I can relate to that,” she whispered.
“Andi,” he whispered back. “I’m glad you like it out here.”
She looked up at him. “I like you, Nate Becker.”
And then they were kissing. Softly, at first, and then more urgently. Elbows and knees bumping the wooden walls, they maneuvered in the tight space so that they could face each other. Suddenly, Nate pulled away. “This is crazy.” He laughed.
It was a relief to hear him echo her thoughts. “I know. We’re acting like two teenagers.”
“No.” Nate shook his head, smiling shyly. “It’s more than that. Andi, I’ve always felt something for you.”
“You have?” She’d had no idea. Not even once in all their summers together.
“Yes! From that ruffled orange bikini you wore in high school, to the woman you are today.”
Andi laughed out loud, and clapped her hand over her mouth. “My orange bikini!” She’d nearly forgotten all about that old bathing suit. “Nate, you have to be kidding.”
“I’m serious. I’ve tried to get that thing out of my head for years.” He was laughing now too. “You were so beautiful. So sure of yourself, and I was just this skinny friend of your twin brother’s.”
It was quite possibly the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her. This tender admission carried all these years by a kid she’d always liked and now this beautiful man sitting beside her. Andi reached up and traced the edge of Nate’s jaw, her fingers moving down his shoulders, across the breadth of his chest. Gone was any trace of that skinny kid. He watched her as she did, his breath coming in short puffs. He was letting her lead, taking her cue. And it emboldened her.
She reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it up, over his head. Obediently, Nate raised his arms as she slipped it off. His chest was warm and strong and she pressed the palms of her hands against it. A tear slipped down her cheek.
Nate pressed his thumb gently against it, swept it away. “What is it?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. You. Me. All of it.”
He kissed her cheek where the tear had been. “Breathe, Andi Darling. Just breathe.”
And she did. Andi let her mind wander with her hands, taking her time. Savoring the way this man made her feel. The sensations he elicited. Without hesitation, she pulled her own shirt over her head, let it fall to the floor of the shack. When she pressed her chest against his they fit like two pieces of a puzzle.
Andi exhaled as Nate ran his hands across her back, down her spine. She sucked in her breath. Beneath his touch she came alive in ways she had not imagined she ever would again. Maybe taking things slowly wasn’t so important, after all.
“Look at you, Andi Darling. You’ve no idea how exquisite you are.”
She’d tried to imagine being with another man. Someone new, whose heart and mind she did not know, any more than she knew the curves or angles of his body. The thought had terrified her. Shedding her clothes was about shedding so much more. She was no longer twenty years old. Her body had served her well, carried and birthed her daughter. But in doing so it carried the stretch marks and lines and all the rest that came with all that living.