The Other Shore: Two Stories of Love and Death

that she was radiant. "I'm glad you're here."

  "Me, too."

  Unlike the night before, her hair was tied up, and this meant he could see the full shape of her wonderful face and neck. She was dressed in a sky blue skirt, and a white, lacy blouse. So, while he was sweating away in his work clothes, she was a complete expression of fresh, cool elegance.

  He was wearing his normal uniform from those days: blue jeans and a white t-shirt. His clothes were covered in wood dust, and, if his experience with sanding had taught him anything, the sawdust had also accumulated on his sweaty head as well. After all, it was hot, and he was sweating the sweat of a man who had spent hours working in the July sun.

  But, even sullied by dust and sweat as he was, she smiled at him all the same.

  He smiled clumsily back—a smile of genuine joy.

  "What now?" she asked.

  "We should go for a ride."

  "A ride? Where?"

  "On the lake."

  "A boat ride?"

  "Yeah, a boat ride."

  "I'd love that, but this boat here doesn't look quite water ready," she said, looking at the boat he'd been sanding.

  "Right. I'll grab another one," he said, and dropped his sandpaper on the deck floor, and went to untie a dinghy—a little two-seater—from the dock in front of the boathouse. She followed closely behind him.

  "How much time do you have?" he asked.

  "I don't know. I hadn't thought about it. I hadn't considered much of anything before I came."

  "You didn't plan on coming?"

  "Nope. I didn't plan on any of this happening, and yet it is."

  "Life's strange that way. It shifts underneath you when you least expect it," John says, as he firmly holds the boat against the dock. "Step in."

  She moves to the edge of the dock, and looks in the boat. "Just step right in, huh?"

  "Yep, one foot and then the other," he says without a hint of condescension in his voice.

  She gingerly places one foot in, and in a slightly unbalanced panic as the boat wobbled beneath her, she reached out and grabbed his arm above the elbow. He grabbed her near the shoulder with his other hand until she regained her balance and planted her other foot in the boat.

  "There. You've got it," he said, as she sat in the boat.

  "I'm sorry. I'm not normally so clumsy."

  "You're not clumsy. The water doesn't make it easy for people to stand on it."

  She sat in the rear boat seat, and was clearly embarrassed for having grabbed him, but, when she looked at him, he seemed completely unfazed by it.

  John, then, moved effortlessly into the boat, climbing in like someone who anticipated the wobbles. But Maddie still hadn't grown accustomed to the boat's rocking, and when he was fully in, she grabbed the edges of the boat and squealed a bit.

  He couldn't help but laugh, as he stabilized the boat by placing his hand on the dock, and then she laughed through her embarrassment.

  "I must look so foolish."

  "No, not at all. Have you ever been on a boat before?"

  "A few times, but never one this small."

  "Well, one of the great benefits of being in a boat this small is that you can really feel the life of the water beneath you," he said as he shoved off from the dock, which made Maddie clutch the sides of the boat again with rigid hands. "Don't worry, it'll be a smoother ride the rest of the way."

  "Good," she says, as the boat eased itself onto the water. "So, where is it you're taking me?"

  "I didn't really have anything planned. I thought we could just go down near the Oak Street bridge and then circle back," he says. "Sound alright?"

  "Sounds fine to me."

  "And you're sure you don't have anywhere to be?"

  "If I do, it'll have to wait," she says, and smiles a nervous smile that makes him wonder what it is she's avoiding to be here with him.

  Once they're out in the center of the lake, he grabs the oars of the boat, knowingly places them in the oar locks, and begins rowing to straighten the boat out.

  "You look like you've done this before."

  "Pretty much everyday."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah, we bring out all the new boats for a test run. And, even when there isn't a new boat to test, I like to have some private time on the water. It's a nice, quiet way to collect my thoughts."

  "I hope my coming hasn't disrupted anything."

  "You kidding? I was waiting for you. I'm happy you came."

  "I didn't think I would. I mean, I wanted to. I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if I did come, but I didn't believe I'd actually do it."

  "What finally persuaded you?"

  "I still don't know. I was driving down the hill to run an errand for my mom. And when I saw the lake in the distance," he said, looking off as if she were seeing the scene unfold just this minute, "my heart started beating at the thought that you might be there waiting for me, and, well… I knew I had to come. I knew I wouldn't be able to pass it by." She looked over at him. He had stopped rowing and was staring at her with a very serious, but soft stare stuck in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm talking too much."

  "No. Please. I like listening to you," he said. "But, if you don't mind my asking, you said a second ago that you couldn't stop thinking about what might happen if you came. What did you think was going to happen?"

  "I didn't know, but this is just about how I hoped it might be," she said.

  The more she spoke, the more she relaxed in the boat. The sunlight was shining on her, and her golden hair was glowing. John was so cognizant of the perfection of the moment that he remembered to try to hold it as still as possible. He didn't say anything for a bit, just allowed her light to unfold around him.

  "I hope I don't sound too forward if I tell you how beautiful you look right now," he said, slightly breathless from rowing.

  She had been looking at him, but, as he said this, she turned away and looked toward the water. Then she quickly turned away from the lake as if she had seen her reflection and that it had only confirmed what he had said. She was embarrassed by her pride.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you," he said. "I just meant that you look very beautiful today. Not that you're not beautiful everyday, but the light today… It just—"

  "Thank you," she says, turning to catch his eyes, trying hard to hold herself in his unapologetic stare. His intensity is very attractive, but also a little frightening. She's not accustomed to his brand of emotional honesty.

  "So, last night you'd said how nice it would be to escape on the water. Does it feel like we're escaping from something now?"

  "It does, actually. But I don't know if it's the water or if it's being with you, or… Whatever it is, I feel like I'm living a different life somehow. How I feel, right now, is something completely different than I'm used to feeling."

  "And how do you usually feel?"

  "Bored. Burdened by others' expectations."

  "But if you were to look over at the water's edge and see your mother standing on the bank, would the freedom you feel right now evaporate? Would all those expectations return?"

  "Yes," she says, and he can feel her getting rigid just thinking about it.

  "Then we won't conjure any of those demons," he says, smiling at her.

  Things are very quiet. The only sounds are the oars creaking in their locks and the blades of the oars swimming over the surface of the water. She watches him move with admiration at his grace. His body shows evidence that he spends a lot of time out on the water. He's tan, and obviously in very good shape.

  As she watches his muscles move, she begins to relax. Her worries all but float away.

  John slows his rowing so that they're now just barely crawling over the lake. He wants this journey with her to last as long as possible. He wants to concentrate on her, learn her.

  Maddie shifts in her seat a bit to get more comfortable, and something drops from her skirt to the bottom of the boat. He stops rowing, let's the oars
rest in their locks and reaches down to grab the diamond ring that's resting by her feet.

  "You dropped something."

  She must've not heard it drop because she seemed genuinely surprised when she saw him holding the ring out to her.

  She quickly grabbed the ring and stuck it back in her skirt pocket. She's clearly ashamed.

  "So, you accepted his proposal?"

  "I told you it wasn't much of a proposal, more of a declaration."

  "But you're engaged?"

  "According to some, yes."

  "According to your fiancé?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, congratulations," he said, and goes back to rowing the boat at a more rapid pace.

  "Why would you say that?"

  "I'd like to think of myself as the kind of guy who offers congratulations when someone has big news," John said. "Why shouldn't I congratulate you?"

  "Because you don't like it. Because you don't want me to be engaged, that's why," she said, surprised by her own directness.

  "You're right. I don't like it."

  "But what are you going to do about it?"

  "What do you want me to do about it?"

  "I don't know. But I'd like you to do something."

  "Then I will."

  "You will?" she asked, sounding surprised at his decisiveness.

  He stopped rowing, stared at her for a moment, and then he moved toward her. The boat rocked as his mouth neared her mouth. He gave her a second to stop him, to protest his oncoming kiss. She said nothing. So, he let his mouth sink into her mouth, and she didn't seem at all nervous by the boat's rocking anymore. She hardly seemed to notice that it had moved at all.

  He backed away from her a bit, opened his eyes just in time to watch her open hers, and he thought he could see some relief on her face. He hoped that it was the same relief he was feeling. It was the