A Stranger on the Beach. Michele Campbell

A Stranger on the Beach - Michele  Campbell


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      A wave crashed against the rocks, foaming and swirling. Aidan watched it, and, timing the movement precisely, pulled me forward into the receding water. It came up to my ankles, soaking through my suede boots. We rounded the rock, reaching the other side just as the next wave hit. The spray from it hit me in the face, soaking my hair and my clothes, the cold such a shock that I gasped.

      A new stretch of beach spread out before us, magnificently empty under the cloudy sky. But Aidan ignored it and made a beeline for a large boulder that rose from the sand, close up against the rock outcropping. He ducked behind the boulder, which was as tall as a man. When he didn’t reemerge after a minute or two, I walked up to it. No Aidan. He’d disappeared into thin air. With my car keys.

      “Aidan?”

      The boulder was blocking an opening in the rock. The mouth of the cave was narrow, its sandy floor covered with an inch or so of seawater and speckled with foam and bits of seaweed. A strong smell of brine and damp emanated from inside.

      I had a bad feeling about this place.

      Caroline offered to give him a lift home. On the way, he would show her a special place. There were things he knew that she didn’t. Things only a local would know, someone who lived closer to the ground than she did. Maybe he was rough around the edges, but she liked that, or else, why be with him? He suspected it was nostalgia. The harshness of her accent in unguarded moments gave her away. She hadn’t always been the lady of the manor.

      They got all the way to the cave, and she didn’t want to go inside.

      “Don’t be afraid,” he said, as they stood side by side, staring into the entrance.

      He could understand why she’d hesitate. It was dark in there, and she didn’t have the history with the place that Aidan did. He used to run away to there when things were hard at home, pretending he was like Butch Cassidy at the hole in the wall. The first time he got drunk, the first time he got high, and the first time he had sex were all in that cave. Good times. Bad times, too. The one girl he’d ever loved had spent time with him in there. Then she’d shared the place with someone else, and the aftermath was so ugly that Aidan was paying for it to this day. But that wouldn’t happen with Caroline. She was better than Samantha. She was a lady.

      He took her by the hand. “It gets wider in a few feet. Light comes in from a hole in the roof. It’s magical, you’ll see. You have to trust me.”

      He let her go first, creeping along behind her. Within a few feet, the narrow entrance fed into a space the size of a small bedroom. Rough rock walls slanted up to a peaked ceiling, where the hole revealed a patch of sky. The light filtering through was delicate and shimmering, like the inside of a seashell. And it smelled like the ocean. Aidan took off his jacket and used it to sweep sand off a low, flat boulder.

      “Your chair, my lady,” he said.

      She hesitated, hanging back near the opening.

      “What’s the matter?”

      “Nothing.”

      “It’s okay, promise. Come here, I’ll protect you.”

      She walked toward him, but stopped short of the rock, seeming so shy all of a sudden that she reminded him of the deer he’d seen this morning from her kitchen window, drinking from the swimming pool. Caroline’s house, on his grandfather’s land. It was a magic combination, and it was within his grasp. Like the woman herself. He reached out and put his hands on her waist, pulling her closer, holding her eyes with his. She stopped resisting, and her body relaxed. Then he slid a hand between her legs and felt her up through her jeans until she moaned. He stood up, drew her closer, grazed her lips with his.

      “I used to come here in high school,” he said, kissing her neck, her ear. She trembled in his arms.

      “Matter of fact, I lost my virginity on this rock,” he said.

      “Really? How old were you?”

      “Fifteen. She was twenty-two. My boss at the Food Mart.”

      “Another older woman? Seriously?”

      “Yeah, she was married, too.”

      “Wow.”

      He looked into her eyes. “Is that weird? What was your first time like? Wait, let me guess. You were in college, and you ended up married to the guy?”

      “How’d you know?”

      “Because you’re such a rich girl.”

      “I’m a nice girl.”

      He laughed. “Not if you’re hanging out with me, you’re not.”

      He kissed the freckles on the bridge of her nose. Those freckles were like a promise. That she was the girl next door. That she could be his. Then he kissed her again and knew it was true.

      Waves crashed on the sand. Gulls spiraled overhead, their shrill cries making the empty beach feel desolate. Nobody knew where I was, except for Aidan. My daughter, my sister—they believed I was safe at home. My faithless husband, if he bothered to think of me at all, wouldn’t know to worry. These things occurred to me as I hesitated at the entrance to the cave. Where had Aidan gone? Was he inside there? I needed my car keys. I stepped forward to take a closer look. Suddenly he was behind me, and I jumped. He’d walked around the boulder and snuck up behind me like an immature kid.

      “What the hell, Aidan.”

      “Go in,” he said, looming over me.

      “What? No.”

      “I said, get in there,” he said, and gave me a shove.

      My stomach flipped as he pushed me through the narrow entrance into a larger, wider space. It was dank and claustrophobic, with dripping rock walls as thick as the cliff itself. He guided me toward a low rock that was covered with sand, the ground around it strewn with cigarette butts and used condoms.

      “What the hell are you doing?” I said, my voice quavering.

      “I didn’t want you to miss this place.”

      “So you shoved me?”

      “I wanted you to see. Magic, isn’t it?”

      “It’s—dirty,” I said.

      Aidan’s face tightened.

      “Not fancy enough for you, princess?”

      “It’s not that.”

      “Then what?”

      I knew what he was after. But I was put off by him now, even anxious about what he might do. I didn’t want sex. What I wanted was to tell him this was over. That it had been a wonderful distraction, but now it needed to end so we could go back to our real lives. The trouble was—crazy as it sounds, since I was a forty-three-year-old housewife, and Aidan was a gorgeous young guy—I was convinced he’d take it badly. You’d think it would be the other way around. That I’d be the one to get overly attached after a one-night stand. But I hadn’t, and it was beginning to seem like he had. We were alone in a cave on a deserted beach. Aidan stood between me and the exit. Making him upset in this confined space was not a smart idea. I floundered around for an excuse.

      “I’m—I’m claustrophobic,” I said. “I’ll have an anxiety attack if I stay here.”

      He came up to me, took me by the shoulders, and looked down into my eyes.

      “Nothing bad will happen to you while I’m around. Promise. I won’t let it, okay? Come sit down.”

      He took off his jacket and brushed sand from the big rock, then kicked some of the detritus that surrounded the rock into the corner. I’d made it clear that I wanted to go. It was beginning to worry me that he


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