“Soon, probably,” River said, then made a decision that surprised him with its spontaneity. “Actually, I'm thinking about inviting him here. Showing him the tide pools during optimal viewing conditions. He seemed genuinely interested in the ecosystem recovery project.”
Jake's smile was knowing but approving. “That's a great idea. Share your passion with someone who might actually appreciate it.”
River felt a flutter of anticipation at the thought of bringing Finn to his research station, of sharing the underwater world that had become his refuge. The prospect of watching Finn's face as he discovered the complexity of tide pool ecosystems felt more appealing than any social interaction he could remember contemplating.
The afternoon return to the bookshop felt different from River's previous visits, charged with intention rather than mystery. He'd spent the morning rehearsing casual conversation starters, but when he pushed through the entrance, the familiar scent ofaged paper and lemon oil made his carefully planned words evaporate.
Finn was helping an elderly woman locate a specific cookbook, his patient attention evident in every gesture. River watched from behind a shelf, noting how Finn listened to her detailed description of a recipe her grandmother had used, how he asked clarifying questions without making her feel rushed, how his genuine care transformed a simple business transaction into something approaching personal connection.
“She wanted something about Depression-era cooking,” Finn explained after the customer left with obvious gratitude. “Her family is trying to recreate recipes from their great-grandmother's kitchen, but they only have memories and fragments to work with.”
“Did you find something useful?”
“A 1930s community cookbook from Maine. Not exactly what she was looking for, but close enough in time period that it should help them reverse-engineer the techniques they remember.” Finn's smile was pleased but modest, like helping people connect with their family history was just part of his job.
River found himself drawn to Finn's approach, the way he treated each person's request as worthy of serious attention regardless of commercial value. It revealed the same careful empathy Finn had shown during their restoration session, the same genuine interest in preservation and connection.
“I've been thinking about those maritime books you recommended,” River said, settling into what was becoming their familiar conversation pattern. “The methodologies are more relevant to my field work than I expected.”
“I'm glad they're useful.” Finn moved toward the section where they'd browsed yesterday, movements easy and unselfconscious. “Did the 1920s tide pool study provide good historical context?”
River nodded, impressed again by Finn's retention of details. “The recovery patterns they documented match what I'm seeing now, but with decades of perspective that help me understand which changes are normal variation and which represent genuine improvement.”
They fell into easy discussion about research methodology and historical perspective, their conversation flowing with natural rhythm. Finn asked insightful questions about long-term ecosystem monitoring, demonstrating understanding that went beyond casual interest.
“Would you like to see the actual research site?” River asked. “The tide pools are accessible during low tide tomorrow afternoon, and the viewing conditions should be optimal.”
Finn's face brightened with what looked like genuine enthusiasm, though River caught a flicker of something else in his expression. Not reluctance, but something deeper. Recognition, maybe. Like the invitation confirmed something he'd been expecting.
“I'd love that,” Finn said, response immediate and warm. “What time works best?”
“Around three o'clock. The pools will be fully exposed, and the afternoon light is perfect for seeing the ecosystem complexity.” River realized he was already mentally planning the visit, selecting which pools would provide the most impressive displays. “Fair warning, though. The access path is a bit treacherous. You'll want appropriate footwear.”
“I'll be prepared.” Finn's smile held quiet confidence, like he'd navigated challenging coastal terrain before despite his apparent lack of marine biology background. “Should I meet you at the beach, or find you at the research station?”
River gave directions to Crescent Beach and explained the trail markers, but part of his mind was already focused on tomorrow's anticipation. The prospect of sharing his underwaterworld with someone who might genuinely appreciate its beauty felt more significant than any casual social interaction should.
River arrived at Crescent Beach forty-five minutes early, driven by restless energy and the need to ensure optimal setup. The tide was perfect, exposing vast rocky areas that revealed complex ecosystems normally hidden beneath ocean waters. Afternoon sunlight angled through the clear water of exposed pools, illuminating marine life with natural spotlight intensity.
He arranged demonstration materials with the care of someone preparing for a crucial experiment, though the stakes felt more personal than professional. Underwater cameras positioned for optimal documentation. Field notebooks opened to relevant data pages. Everything organized to showcase the beauty and complexity of tide pool ecosystems at their most impressive.
At exactly three o'clock, Finn appeared at the top of the cliff trail, dressed appropriately in worn jeans and sturdy boots that suggested he'd done this before. River felt his chest tighten with anticipation as Finn descended the narrow path with careful confidence, movements suggesting familiarity with challenging coastal terrain.
“This is incredible,” Finn said as he reached beach level, gaze sweeping across the exposed tide pools with genuine wonder. “I had no idea there was this much complexity hidden beneath the surface.”
River felt a surge of pride at Finn's obvious appreciation, the same satisfaction he'd experienced when sharing restoration techniques. “Most people never see it because they visit duringhigh tide, when everything's underwater. But low tide reveals entire cities of marine life.”
He led Finn carefully across the rocky coastline, pointing out safety considerations and conservation protocols. Finn listened with the same attentive focus he'd shown during book restoration instruction, asking questions that demonstrated genuine interest rather than polite curiosity.
“The key is moving slowly and watching where you step,” River explained as they approached his primary research grids. “Every surface that looks empty probably contains life forms that are vulnerable to disturbance.”
River guided Finn to a large tidal pool that served as perfect introduction to ecosystem complexity, its clear water revealing layers of marine life in careful ecological balance. Sea anemones anchored to rocks like underwater flowers. Hermit crabs negotiating territory disputes with complex behavioral protocols. Miniature kelp forests providing shelter and food for countless smaller species.
“Look at this,” River said, crouching beside the pool and gesturing for Finn to join him at water level. “This single pool contains representatives from at least a dozen different phyla, all coexisting in relationships that have evolved over millions of years.”
Finn settled beside River with careful attention to conservation guidelines, movements respectful of the marine environment. Up close, River could smell the faint lemon oil scent that clung to Finn's clothing, could observe the concentrated expression that transformed his gentle features into something intense and beautiful.
“How do they manage resource competition?” Finn asked, demonstrating understanding that surprised River with its sophistication. “With limited space and food sources, there must be complex territorial and feeding relationships.”
