“She’s getting older,” Kate said. “But she still lives on her own and still gardens. Her house needs some repairs she can’t afford, so I’ve been helping her.” She shrugged, the gesture belying the worry that undercut every word.
“Kate to the rescue again.” He chuckled.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not. Not at all. I wish…” He shook his head. “I wish I had some of that spirit in me. That generosity, and that attention to the people around you. You’ve always been so good at that, Kate.”
She wrote down her score, then stepped back, giving him room to grab the next ball. “You have to stay in one place long enough to find a way to give back and to give attention to people, Trent.”
“What are you talking about?” Trent balanced the ball in one hand. “I’ve lived here for twenty years, ever since I started college.”
“But you’ve never been…grounded. Even in school, you were always gone, riding some trail or climbing some mountain. Taking advantage of a sunny day to kayak. Or a windy day to sail. There was always another place to be, and almost always you were at that place alone.” A trace of bitterness lingered on the edge of her words. Their relationship had been as hard to pin down as Trent. Just when she’d thought she could count on him, he’d been gone again.
“I was in school a lot more than you think. You saw me, in Mr. Lipman’s American Lit class every single week.”
Clearly they had different perceptions of the past, because she was the one who had never missed a class or an assignment. “Trent, you missed so many, Mr. Lipman drew a smiley face on a piece of cardboard and sat it on your desk.”
“Okay, I might have missed one or two classes.”
“Try seven.” Not that she’d been paying attention and counting or anything like that. Once she’d noticed Trent MacMillan, it was all she could do not to keep noticing him. “You’re lucky he gave you a passing grade.”
“That’s because you helped me write my essays. And study for the tests.” He grinned. “I bought a lot of those sandwiches to thank you. I tried to take you out on the water before the end of the semester too to give you a little break.”
“Someone had to stay in her dorm room and study, instead of embarking on another adventure.” There had been weekends when she’d been stuck doing research or working on papers, and had resented him a little for having fun in the sun. He’d asked her to come with him a dozen times, but instead of finding a middle ground when she’d said no, Trent had gone on his own. More and more, she’d begun to resent him and to wonder if they were meant to be together, until they weren’t, the abrupt ending expected but painful.
Trent curved his wrist and pressed the ball to his chest. “All study and no adventures makes for a very boring college life.”
“I was there on scholarship, Trent.” She let out a long breath. How did he not understand that things had been harder for her? That her parents hadn’t been there like his had been, and that she couldn’t just abandon her responsibilities? Not then, and not now. “I couldn’t afford to take days off, and risk my grades dropping. You…you had a different life.”
“We’re not so different. Like…” he pointed at her, his finger wagging as he thought back, “we both did that, uh, environmental thing. The protest.”
“The fundraiser for the sea turtles? Yeah, we did that, but not together, because you were gone before we finished setting up the table.” Again, their versions of history differed. Maybe it was because Kate paid attention to details, logged the long hours. The responsible one who stayed put and, yes, rescued dogs and cats and turtles.
“No, I wasn’t,” Trent said. Two lanes away, someone got a strike, and the whole group cheered. “I remember helping you.”
She put a hand on her hip. “Then tell me one fact about the turtles we were trying to save. Do you even know what kind they were?”
“Uh…” He thought for a second. “Snappers? Who have shells?”
Kate rolled her eyes. “For a guy who spends so much time outside, you’d think this would be something you would pay attention to. Olive Ridley sea turtles. They’re at risk of being endangered, and every single nest matters so they can have their babies and live a happy life in the ocean. That’s why I got involved in it with you. I thought…”
“Thought what?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” The thunder of balls rolling down the lanes, punctuated by the crash of the falling pins and clunking of the machinery was a steady beat under a peppy Taylor Swift song on the sound system.
“Yeah, it does,” he said.
“It was a long time ago.” Why had she brought this up? Opening a door to the painful parts Kate liked to ignore wasn’t getting her any closer to finishing this book. Neither was standing here bowling with Trent, or getting dinner with him, or debating American Lit class again. She needed to get back on track and maybe put some mental bumpers around all this reminiscing.
At that same moment, Elizabeth and her grandmother walked over to Trent and Kate. Elizabeth had a pair of light-up sneakers on, and her bowling shoes dangled from one hand. “It’s my bedtime.” Elizabeth pouted. “I gotta go, Kate.”
“Thank you for being so sweet to her,” her grandmother said. “Elizabeth can be a bit…effusive. Like a bottle of champagne that’s been shaken a little before you open it.”
Trent laughed. “I was like that as a kid. Kept my parents running.”
“Well, you look like you’ve done well for yourself.” The elderly woman gave them a smile. She had light blue eyes, a paler shade of Elizabeth’s. “You two make a lovely couple. Do you have kids of your own?”
Kate flushed. “Oh, we’re not, we aren’t….”
“Well, you should.” The woman wagged a finger at Trent, even though she was a good twelve inches shorter than him. Elizabeth stood there, watching the whole encounter with wide eyes. “If you’re a smart man, you’ll scoop up this treasure before some smarter man beats you to it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Trent said.
“I was married for fifty-two years, God rest my husband’s soul. We had our ups and downs, like everyone does, but we made it work. I know you didn’t ask for it, but I’m going to give you my advice anyway. If the two of you want to make this last, just remember that arguing about the little things is a waste of the time you have together. You have to learn to let go more often than you hold tight.”
“That’s good advice,” Kate said. “My own grandmother would undoubtedly say the same.”