Rennie pulled Graham’s arms tightly around her. They sat there for hours, watching the surf until the sun went down. When she finally moved, she got on her knees and placed her hands on Graham’s cheeks. “I love you, Graham Cracker. Don’t ever forget it.” She kissed him, stood, gathered her things, and walked away.
THIRTY-ONE
“I have never, in my life, been to a dry party.” Rennie sat in the sand while putting bottles of water, cans of pop, and juice boxes into a cooler.
“It’ll be good for you,” Brooklyn replied. “You can cleanse like the rest of us.”
That was what everyone vowed to do: cleanse. According to Brooklyn, Graham had approached the group of friends and asked if they’d be willing to forgo drinking for a bit, at least in front of Grady, to help in his sobriety. And when Rennie called Brooklyn to tell her she was coming up for the weekend, Brooklyn filled her in on everything that had happened in the last month.
After Rennie left Graham on the beach, she returned to Seattle, spent two days passing her cases off to other lawyers, and put in for some time off, and then she went south to Malibu. Much to her surprise, the shack she had rented back in college was still there, although updated—but still not worth the money to rent it for a month.
Each morning, she woke and took a run on the beach. After she showered, she strolled along the main road, browsing through the shops. She would take whatever book she planned to read that day with her and find a bench to sit on and read or return to her one-room shack and lie in the sun. She kept her phone off and made sure to leave her laptop back in Washington. The only people who knew where she was were her parents and Brooklyn. None of whom would divulge her whereabouts.
Rennie also wrote in a journal. Each day, she’d put her thoughts down, hoping to cure whatever ailed her. She wrote angry letters to Theo, tore them up, and wrote them again. Each one was the same, asking him why he chose her over everyone else? At times, she felt sorry for him, his wife, and herself. He was, at least to her, the worst kind of human.
She also wrote to Graham. She put her feelings down on paper and recounted their love story. Rennie mailed this letter and prayed that when she returned from her trip, they would talk.
Dear Graham Cracker,
It’s funny, as I write the nickname I gave you, I wonder if you ever truly appreciated it or understood where it came from. You see, before I met you, s’mores were my favorite snack. During the winter, I used to make my mom turn on the gas burner so that I could roast a marshmallow to perfection. I loved the ooey-gooey goodness.
Then, I met you, and you became my treat. Even at sixteen, you’re the one I craved. You were the only one I needed. I always waited for you to ask me to be your girlfriend. I know, I know, I told you many times that we were just friends or having fun, but it was because I was afraid that was how you truly felt. Pretty stupid now that I think of it. All this time, we could’ve been together, raising a family, and living our lives.
Along our journey, I made mistakes. My first one, telling you (even though we were “friends”) that I didn’t want a relationship in college. Dating was hard because I compared every single guy to the one I couldn’t have and was afraid didn’t want me. My second mistake was not telling you how I felt when you started dating Monica. The night you came over to tell me about her, I should’ve professed my love to you, and I didn’t because I thought I had already lost you. My third was ignoring you for all those years. I can’t tell you how many times I thought about driving to see you, but I didn’t because of B. I think deep down, she would’ve understood. My fourth, not leaving Theo last summer after I saw you for the first time in years. I knew the minute I laid eyes on you again. You were the one I’d been waiting for my entire life. And to think, I could’ve had you.
Graham Chamberlain, you are the love of my life, and it’s okay if I’m not yours, but I had to let you know. It’s the reason I called you to come and get me. You were, and still are, the only man I want to spend my time with.
By the time you receive this letter, I’ll be on my way home. But you should know, I’m sitting on our beach, the one in Malibu with the tiny shack we rented for all of us that one time. It’s been updated but it’s still rickety, the roof leaks, and the same man still owns it. Oh, the price changed. It’s astronomical but worth the cost to come back to a place we shared.
I hope that when I return, we can talk.
Love,
Rennie
The day she mailed the letter, it poured. The rain reminded her of home. She was sad her trip had come to an end but was hopeful and excited to see Graham. When she returned to Washington, she went right to Cape Harbor to spend some time with Brooklyn and Brystol, not knowing about Grady’s release and welcome-home party.
Rennie looked up when she heard either Bowie or Jason grunting. The guys carried a steel drum barbecue down the stairs and placed it just outside the canopy Bowie erected earlier. It was still too cold to have parties on the beach, but they were determined to make it happen.
“You guys okay over there?” Rennie asked. She got up, wiped the sand off the back of her yoga pants, and went to them. Jason started loading the briquettes while Bowie secured the legs with mounds of sand.
“We’re old,” Jason told her. Jason Randolph was the only one from their group of friends who’d left Cape Harbor and stayed away. He went to medical school and now worked as an ER doc in Seattle. He didn’t visit as often as he wanted but made sure to be here to see Grady.
“You may be old, but I’m not,” Rennie quipped. Although, at times, especially after a hot yoga session or a miles-long run, she felt old.
Bowie doused the charcoal with lighter fluid and then tossed a couple of matches in. The flames roared instantly and, after a few seconds, died down. It would be a bit before they’d be ready to cook.
Brooklyn appeared with an armful of blankets from the inn’s shed, which wasn’t far from where they’d set up. Rennie took half and set them on the driftwood logs. They were there for anyone to use. Bowie came over to Brooklyn and kissed her. “I’m going to get the fire started,” Rennie heard him say. It was her cue to run back into the house and grab her bag of provisions—everything she’d need to make s’mores.
When she and Simone reemerged, the group of people had grown, and everyone had clumped together. “I think Grady is in the mix,” Rennie said to Simi.
“I think you’re right. They’re liable to freak him out.”
Rennie watched the group from the outskirts, letting the friends and family congratulate Grady. It wasn’t until she felt a tap on her shoulder that she turned around. “Hey, Grady.”
He didn’t say anything to her. He wrapped his strong arms around her and lifted her off the ground. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you.” Grady set her down gently and stepped away.
“All I did was help out a friend.”
“The fact that you even consider me a friend means everything to me. If it weren’t for you, I’d be in jail right now.”
Rennie briefly touched Grady on his arm. “I’m so happy you’re healthy and clean.”
The next to hug Rennie was Johanna, who held on to Rennie as if her life depended on it. “If you ever need anything, please let me know.”