A Hazel Island Novella: One Perfect Summer

Bekah Matthews gaped at her boyfriend of three years.

“You know we were never meant to go the distance,” Sam was saying. “We’re just not compatible. You know that, too.”

“How is everything?” asked the waiter.

Bekah had barely started eating her linguine, and now she was seriously considering tossing it in Sam’s face.

“It’s great, thanks.” Sam barely glanced at the waiter, his tone dismissive.

As a scientist, Bekah had always prided herself on being logical and practical. When she and Sam had first started seeing each other, she’d written down a list of pros and cons about him. One of the biggest pros was that he was ambitious in his career as a lawyer. It was also one of his biggest cons, Bekah had eventually realized.

“Well? Do you have anything you want to say?” said Sam.

Bekah felt as though the English language had exited the building that was her brain. She took a long drink of water, then an even longer one of the wine she’d ordered.

“I never thought...” She swallowed. “I’m in shock.”

If she were being honest, she’d honestly thought Sam taking her to the fanciest restaurant on Hazel Island meant he might be proposing.

Well, he was proposing—proposing to end their relationship. That thought made Bekah return to her glass of wine.

“We’ve hardly seen each other in the last few months,” said Sam. “I’ve been busy with work, you with your research. The spark is gone.” He leaned forward, his voice lowering. “There hasn’t been a spark for a while now.”

Bekah felt her cheeks turn red. “No, I don’t think that’s true. I think you can create sparks if you want to,” she said, rather sharply.

“Don’t drag this out when we both know it’s already dead.” Sam then reached under his chair and pulled out a gift bag. He plopped the bag in front of Bekah, but she didn’t reach out to take it.

“It’s a gift,” he said lamely.

“You got me a ‘I’m dumping you’ gift.” She just looked at him.

Now he finally looked self-conscious. “Now I’m wondering if that was a bad idea. I just thought...” He shrugged. “I didn’t want us to end on bad terms. I do care about you. You’re a good person.”

Bekah pulled out the tissue paper to discover a small screwdriver set inside. Screwdrivers. Bekah glanced around, wondering where the hidden cameras were, because surely this entire debacle was a prank.

A receipt fluttered out of the bag. “In case you want to return it,” said Sam.

At this point, Bekah had merely been in shock, dismayed. But when she looked at the receipt and saw that Sam had purchased this gift over a year ago, rage coursed through her in hot, quick waves.

A year ago, her beloved dog had died. Then her mom had broken her leg, and Bekah had had to help care for her that summer.

Rising from her chair, Bekah crumpled the receipt and tossed it in Sam’s face. “You know, if you wanted to make this a clean breakup, you probably shouldn’t have included a gift receipt dated from a year ago,” she snapped.

Sam’s face turned white. “Shit, Bekah—”

Bekah tossed back the rest of her wine, then did the same with Sam’s glass. “You know what? Break up with me. That’s fine. But don’t feel sorry for me. I’m a big girl, Sam. I think I’ll survive without you.” Emboldened, she added, “God knows my vibrator has given me more orgasms than you ever did.”

That remark earned her a sneer from him. “Don’t act offended, Bekah. We both know you aren’t marriage material, anyway.”

It was a warm summer night on the island, the sun only starting to set. Hazel Island, population fewer than one thousand, was a small island in the Puget Sound that was as idyllic as it sounded. Bekah had grown up here for the most part, although she’d lived in Seattle to attend the University of Washington. She now lived here again, specifically to study the orca pods that lived in the surrounding waters. She was only a year away from earning her doctorate in marine biology.

Bekah considered going home, but she hadn’t gotten another dog since Maybelle had died, so it was rather lonely. She was just glad she hadn’t worn heels for tonight and had decided to walk to the restaurant. Sam didn’t deserve her wearing heels and killing her feet. If anything, he deserved to be pushed off the nearest cliff into the freezing ocean.

The main street was bustling tonight, with both locals and tourists. Laughter and music floated around her, but she barely heard either. Mostly, she was telling herself she couldn’t start crying right here in the street.

Well, the joke was on Bekah, because he’d had no intention of marrying her. He’d wanted to end things a year ago. A year ago! Bekah fumed. He’d thought she was too fragile to tell her the truth. She hated that. She hated pity. She preferred blunt honesty. It might hurt, but at least she knew where people stood.

Maybe that had been the problem: she hadn’t worked to make herself grow in the relationship, and she hadn’t expected the same from Sam. They’d come to a place that was basically relationship stasis—neither good nor bad. It just...was. But as Bekah thought more about it, she realized that if she’d ever loved Sam, that love had dissipated like fog burned away by the sun.

When she felt sand beneath her feet, she realized she’d walked to the beach without thinking about her destination. She sighed, the sea air brisk, the setting sun’s rays making the water sparkle.

Bekah had always loved the ocean. She loved how endless it seemed, how much of it remained unexplored. She marveled at all of the wildlife that lived within it. She’d known at an early age that her fascination with marine life would be a defining factor in her life.

Her attention was pulled away from her musings when she heard a bird squawking in distress. Frowning, Bekah saw a large bird some yards away, and then she noticed that there was a person trying to do...something to it.

Bekah hurried toward the scene. As she got closer, she saw that the bird was a pelican, and that the person was attempting to extricate the poor thing from a net that had wrapped around its large beak.

“Come on, buddy, I’m just trying to help,” said the man in low tones. He had a pocketknife in his hand, but the pelican kept thrashing, making it difficult for him to cut it loose.

“Give me the knife,” she said to the man. When he looked at her in surprise, she added, “I’m a marine biologist. You can hold him while I free him. I’ve done this before.”

The man’s face had been shadowed by the bulk of the pelican’s beak. But when he handed her the pocketknife and she got a good look at his face, she nearly dropped the tool on the poor bird’s head.

It was Elliot Parker. Her high school crush, the boy who’d stood up to her bullies for her and then had just as quickly ghosted her.

And to her immense annoyance, he was even more handsome than he’d been at eighteen. Now, he had the confidence—and muscles—of a man.

“Ma’am?” said Elliot. “What do you want me to do?”

Bekah had to stifle a hysterical laugh. He didn’t recognize her.

Shaking off the surprise, she directed Elliot to hold the pelican close, keeping its wings from flapping about. Kneeling in the sand, Bekah hardly noticed that her brand-new dress was getting soaked and dirty.

The net had somehow wrapped around the pelican’s beak, making it nearly impossible for the creature to open its mouth. She began cutting at the net, making shushing noises when the bird tried to pull away.

“We’ll get you free soon, promise,” she kept saying. The net wasn’t flimsy, and the knife wasn’t all that sharp, so by the time Bekah had finished, sweat had begun to dot her forehead.

She looked at Elliot. “I’m about to get this off of him. You’ll want to back away quickly so you don’t get hit in the face when he flies off.”

Elliot’s lips quirked, which made her heart do a pitter-pat in her chest. “Noted.”

Bekah forced her attention back to the task at hand. She cut one last bit of the lines, tugging the net off of it. Once she’d gotten out of the way, Elliot followed her.

The pelican opened its beak wide and then squawked loudly while flapping its wings. And then it was gone, flying into the horizon.

“Well,” said Elliot a few moments later, “that was pretty cool.”

Bekah still had his pocketknife in her hand. Handing it back, she looked around for a trash can to dispose of the net, but she didn’t see any close by.

Looking down at herself, she realized that not only was she holding remnants of a net, but that she was covered in sand, water, and even some seaweed. She probably looked insane. Her cheeks were probably red; she was sweaty despite the ocean air, and she could feel her updo falling down.

She probably looked like a total crazy woman.

Of course, Elliot looked amazing: his dirty blond hair was perfectly windswept. If he was sweating, she couldn’t tell. When he flashed her a charming smile, even his teeth seemed to gleam.

“Thanks for your help,” said Elliot, making Bekah realize she hadn’t said a word to him in minutes. “You’ve done that before?”

“A few times. It’s not uncommon, unfortunately.”

“You said you’re a marine biologist?”

Elliot seemed like he was barely listening. “Cool. I’m Elliot Parker, by the way.” He held out a hand for her to shake.

She didn’t know if it was the remnants of her conversation with Sam, or her annoyance at not being recognized, or that this handsome, dreamy man seemed to look right through her, but Bekah didn’t take his hand to shake it.

“I know who you are,” she said simply.

Elliot blinked. “Do we know each other?”

“We did, a long time ago.” She smiled, her expression sardonic. “Have a nice evening, Elliot.”