Secrets in the Sand by Carolyn Brown

            But comparing Melissa and Angel wasn’t fair to either of them. They were as different as two women could be. His mama called that kind of thing measuring one person by another’s half bushel. He glanced over at Angel. She was smiling, so she was evidently pleased with her win, but she didn’t say a word the rest of the way back to the motel.

            Clancy parked the rental car in the spot marked with his room number, reached over the seat, and picked up a brown bag.

            ***

            Angela smiled when she heard the tinkle of crystal glasses. She’d whipped him at golf, and if he was still as poor at drinking as he used to be, she might whip him at drinking too.

            “Wine on the beach,” he said when he opened the door for her. “Two glasses, one bottle. Half a glass and I’ll be snoring, so there will be plenty for you.” He took her hand and led her across the road to the sand.

            He sat down and pulled her down beside him, then let go of her hand to take off his shoes and socks. He rolled up his khaki trousers haphazardly until they could go no further, just below his muscular thighs. “Got another one of those white thingy jigs?” He tapped the plastic ring that held one side of her dress high. “Tie up the other side and take off those shoes, and we’ll go wading before we have a toast to the moonless night.”

            “I’m not afraid of getting my dress wet,” Angel said.

            “Oh, yeah?” Clancy scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing and waded out into the ocean. “How much is it worth to you to keep it dry?” He pretended to almost let go of her.

            “Clancy Morgan, if you drop me, I swear you’re going to get wet too. Don’t forget that summer at the dam,” she taunted.

            “How could I forget that summer?” He kissed her on the neck.

            “Oh—” She pushed his face away and flipped out of his arms. Just as she hit the water, she grabbed both of his legs and brought him down beside her, dousing both of them.

            “You are one bad, bad lady,” he blubbered when he surfaced in the knee-deep water.

            “Don’t threaten me if you don’t want to get wet.” She backed up until she was sitting in water so shallow that she could feel the sand shifting under them every time the waves swelled in and ebbed back out. “I’m a grown woman now, Clancy, and you might not like me when you get to know me this time. Do you just feel guilty about our baby? You never knew him, not even for the nine months he was mine. I don’t want you to feel like you’ve got to pay for your mistakes. You can’t change the past and neither can I. And like you said, you thought I would probably give him away.” Angel had come to grips with that much. Maybe she and Clancy could be friends.

            He reached across the wet sand to touch her hand. “I know that. But right now, I’m trying to deal with feelings I didn’t even really know I had. Ten years ago, my hormones ruled my brain, and I was young and just plain stupid. Now, I hope I’m a little smarter. I want to get to know you again, Angel. And I’d want to know you even if we hadn’t been together back then.”

            “Thanks.” She looked him in the eye, reassured that he wasn’t shooting her some practiced line.

            “I believe we have wine to celebrate our first evening together again.” He lay back on the sandbar, reached as far back as he could, and grabbed the sack. “And wineglasses.” He pulled out two cut-crystal, stemmed glasses wrapped in white linen napkins. “One bottle of rare, vintage Asti from the vineyards of Italy, personally stomped just for us by purple-footed peasants.”

            ***

            She giggled and a thousand stars lit up in Clancy’s soul. It didn’t matter if there were dark clouds hanging low in the sky, or that he didn’t know a thing about Italian vineyards; he could have just listened to her laughter all night. Maybe he’d send all her friends at Conrad Oil bouquets of roses tomorrow morning, just for giving him the chance to be near Angel again.

            “To new beginnings.” Clancy poured for both of them, handed her a wineglass by its slender stem, and clinked his glass to hers. He downed the mouthful of sparkling wine in one gulp.

            She swished the wine around until its fragrance wafted up to her nose, then sipped it delicately. “Mmm,” she said. “I intend to enjoy every single little bubble, not send it down my throat like a shot.”