Page 19 of The Spirit of Love
“That’s beautiful,” I say.
“Maybe,” Sam says. “But sometimes I feel like I might be stuck here forever.”
“You’re not stuck,” I say. “You’re completing your training. There’s honor in that, right? We all have to put in our time before we can do what we’re meant to do.”
“Or maybe training is bullshit, and you and I aren’t learning anything we don’t already know.”
“I’ve been on the apprentice track atZombie Hospitalforseven years. Sometimes, that’s felt like forever, but in a few more years, I might look back and—”
Sam shakes his head dismissively. “There’s only now. Now is all there is.”
“Huh?”
“I mean it. Why waste another moment searching for what we already have?”
“Are we still talking about our jobs?”
“No,” Sam says, leaning in toward me, staring at my lips. I look at his. Pink and smooth, highly kissable.
I lean a little closer, too. Definitely feeling thenow.
“Do you hear that?” Sam says suddenly, turning away. “The rain stopped. You’ve got to see this. It’s so beautiful after the rain.”
Trying not to feel disappointed that what felt like a kiss moment was, in fact, not, I follow Sam to a side door, and we step out onto the porch.
The predawn world sparkles with raindrops. Everything is brilliant, glistening. Sam looks at me and smiles.
“Do you hear it?”
“What?”
“The morning. Here it comes.”
“Wait,” I say. “What time is it?”
Sam shrugs. “Listen. You can hear it rise.”
I try, but all I hear is the softness of his breathing. And then my eyes find the horizon, the ocean, gray and greased with nearly morning light. The world gathers a harmonious silence around itself like a shawl.
“Do you do this often?” I ask. “Listen to rock formations? Listen to the dawn?”
“Do you know about the native Moken?”
I shake my head.
“Oh, you’ll like this,” he says. “You’ll bring it out one day at a fancy LA dinner party. The Moken live in Thailand, and in 2004, when a tsunami wiped out millions of homes, the Moken heard the warning. They heard it in the stillness of the water, in the shifting flights of fish. Their entire tribe got out in time. Nature is always telling us something. The trick is to remember to listen.”
“I’ll remember that,” I whisper. “I can’t believe we talked until morning.”
“Oh, right. Sorry,” Sam says. “You need your rest. Big week, right? There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom drawer.”
“Oh. I…Of course.”
I close myself in the bathroom and brush my teeth, thinking maybe I’ll go out there and take back everything I said about not wanting to sleep with him tonight. But when I leave the bathroom, Sam’s fast asleep on the couch, looking like Michelangelo’sDavid.
I watch him for a moment, young and peaceful, lovely and strong. How intimate and also still unknown he is to me after tonight. Then, as the sun finds its legs on the ocean, I climb the stairs to Sam’s loft and tumble into his soft and empty bed.
Chapter Five
