Walking Tour

 

HARRIS SAID GEORGIE was adorable. “Can we take her for a walk?” he asked.

“Okay,” said Odette, even though it hadn’t been all that long since their morning outing.

“Mom,” Odette said, “remember Harris from the ferry?”

“Sure,” Mom said. “Hi there.”

“We’re going to take Georgie on a walk, okay?”

“Sounds good. Have fun,” she said.

The rain had stopped and the sky was blue-gray and wide open. Georgie, despite her earlier walk, wagged her tail and strained against her harness.

The farther into the island they walked, the prettier the buildings seemed to get. Here in Eastsound the houses lined up like ladies at an old-fashioned dance, side by side in blue and yellow and violet, their windows trimmed in brightly contrasting colors like ribbons, bright red roofs topping them.

Peekaboo views of the ocean popped up here and there, but even when Odette couldn’t see the water, there was a knowledge of it, all around, encircling them. Cozy and cut off from the rest of the world, the island felt magical. Maybe that explained the feeling Odette had inside, the jostling, unnerving hopefulness about nothing in particular, the excitement simmering in her heart.

Or maybe it was because of the boy walking next to her, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, and the way his eyes roamed around, taking everything in; the way when his gaze landed on her looking at him, he smiled, kind of goofy and shy.

They walked and walked. As they walked they compared favorites—favorite movie, favorite book, favorite song, favorite sport. None of their favorites aligned. Harris liked action movies, and mystery books, and rap, and basketball. But it was okay. They both seemed to like walking just fine.

Finally they came to a bench that overlooked the ocean, and without discussing it they both flopped down. Georgie seemed tired too, and she hopped right up on Odette’s lap, curling into a little ball.

“This is fun,” Harris said. “I like it here.”

Odette wondered if he meant “here” on Orcas Island or “here” next to her. “Me too,” she said.

And then Harris did this thing Odette had seen in movies—he stretched his right arm along the back of the bench, behind Odette’s shoulders. Was this his way of putting an arm around her, or was he just stretching? There was no way to tell—until Odette looked at his face, and then it seemed pretty clear from his expression, his soft eyes. Was this it? Would this be her first kiss, here, on this bench, in this very moment?

“I’d better get back,” Odette said, a little louder than she’d meant to, and she stood up fast. Georgie tumbled to the ground, landing awkwardly and grunting her disapproval. “See you later.” Odette yanked on Georgie’s leash and had to force herself to just walk, not run.