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The following Tuesday, Zoë-Grace took a rare day off the project and at the early hour of 7:00, she drove out to the cove she had described to Isaiah. She had spent the last few days in serious prayer regarding her swimming lesson. All her life, she’d been petrified of drowning. While she hadn’t known him, the child of her family’s next-door neighbors had drowned before she was born, and since learning that, she had been deathly afraid of the water.
She could go into the shallow end of a pool or sit in the shallow waters at the beach, but she avoided going to large bodies of water with playful people who would think it funny to do what Jamaicans called “duck” her—push her head underwater. She was deliberate about never going into water that came up above her thighs.
Agreeing to have Isaiah teach her to swim was therefore a big deal. She trusted him not to let anything happen to her, but that didn’t stop her from praying that she would have a good lesson and that she would remain calm and, above all else, that she wouldn’t drown. She wanted to spend eternity with Jesus, but there were some things she wanted to do on Earth first, like complete the community center project.
She had also been spending quite a bit of her prayer time asking for guidance regarding her growing attraction to a man who wasn’t saved. Once upon a time, she would have prayed that God would save Him so she could feel comfortable being with Him. Now that she was more focused on abiding in Christ and trying to do His will, she prayed that the Lord would allow His perfect will to manifest in her life—even if that meant Isaiah wouldn’t be part of her future.
As she drove to the spot she had identified, she prayed out loud, “Lord, You know how I feel about Isaiah. I’m not just attracted to him; I really, really like him. You also know my concerns about getting involved with an unsaved man. I don’t want to be unequally yoked with anyone. More than anything, I don’t want to be outside of Your perfect will for my life.
“Lord, I want to do what You have called me to do. To be who You have called me to be. To go where You have called me to go. To be with the man You have called me to be with. I don’t want my emotions to blind me. Please don’t allow my feelings to grow if it is not in Your perfect will for us to be together. If he isn’t the man You’ve set aside for me, or if this isn’t the right time, please remove Him from my life or me from His. Open doors that need to be opened and close doors that need to be closed in order for me to walk the path You’ve prepared for me. Help me to be wise today and always. Help me to continue trusting You with me. In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.”
The cove was close to a side road that led off the highway, and she parked her car beside the narrow road, right behind Isaiah’s Jeep. She was surprised to see that he had erected a tent on the grass.
He had asked her what the place was like, and she described the very narrow beach, wide strip of grassy land, and shade trees. She sat there for a moment, mesmerized as she always was by the sight of the small bay, which was sheltered by rocky cliffs jutting out into the sea on either side. It was identical to several other coves along the Hanover coastline.
She reached for her large tote, took a deep, calming breath, and got out of the car. As she approached the tent, she could see someone —Isaiah, she assumed—swimming several yards out from the beach. She placed her tote on the blanket under the canopy, nestling it between an ice chest and a large bottle of water. A backpack lay off to one side.
Her knee-length wrap skirt whipped around her thighs in the strong breeze. She slipped off her flip-flops and made her way to the beach. She hadn’t bothered to put on a blouse, since she was wearing her swimsuit, but she wasn’t quite ready to shed her skirt. She hoped he was planning on giving her a lengthy theory lesson before she had to get into the water.
Bright sunshine filtered through the leaves of the tree she moved to lean against, keeping one eye open for insects. As she watched Isaiah swim further and further away from the beach, she envied his obvious comfort in the ocean. The very thought of putting her face into the water caused her heart to race, and her breathing became shallow. She placed her hand on her chest and forced herself to take smooth, deep breaths.
“Lord,” she whispered, “I place everything about this day into Your hands. I surrender my swimming lesson to You. More than that, I surrender my fears to You. Your Word assures me that You did not give me a spirit of fear, but a spirit of love and of power. You also gave me a sound mind. Take control of this day, I pray. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Now that she was sure the swimmer was Isaiah, she turned her attention to unpacking her tote. She had a thick beach towel and a T-shirt to dry her hair. There would be no way to wash off after coming out of the ocean, but she’d brought a couple of recycled plastic bottles filled with tap water to at least get the salt out of her hair. She spread one of the towels on the blanket and was about to sit on it when she heard Isaiah’s voice.
“Good morning!”
It should be illegal for anyone to be that pleasant at this hour. She turned towards him to tell him exactly that, but the words got stuck in her throat.
She had always scoffed while watching movies that featured an attractive person coming out of the ocean, but she didn’t think she would do that anymore. It was as if everything except Isaiah and the ocean had blurred, and all she could see was him. While she had been distracted, he had swum back towards the shore, and was now walking out of the sea. The water was still streaming down him, from the crown of his head to the waistband of his swim trunks. She tried hard not to stare at his wide shoulders that tapered down to a narrow waist. Did men in their forties really have six-packs? She had thought that was a myth and had always laughingly insisted that Maxwell enjoy his abs while they lasted.
As he strode out of the water, she tore her gaze away from Isaiah and resisted the urge to grab one of the water bottles and take a few long sips. What had she prayed in the car a few minutes ago? She had practically forgotten. She needed to get herself together. She didn’t need to develop an even stronger attraction to this man.
She reached for words deep inside her but could only manage a croaked “Morning.”
“What’s wrong?” His powerful thigh muscles bunched together as he made his way to the blanket, where he retrieved his own beach towel. “Did you skip your hot drink this morning?”
“No,” she pushed out, “I never skip that. Ever. My Jamaican card might get revoked.”
He vigorously rubbed his hair and then his chest, skipping his swim trunks and continuing to dry off his thighs and his legs. She wanted to say something witty about the way his legs were a couple of shades lighter than his arms due to lack of exposure to the sun, but she couldn’t put the words together. She gathered her skirt around her knees and sat on her towel.
“So,” he dropped the towel and turned to face her, “are you ready to conquer your fears?”
Now, that was a loaded question if ever there was one, she thought. There are so many things I fear. Falling deeper for you when I know it’s not going to lead anywhere, for one.
Aloud, she said, “I’m almost ready to conquer this one, at least.”
He stretched a hand towards her. “Shall we?”
She took a deep breath and grasped his hand, allowing him to pull her up. “I suppose.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised that he pulled her right into his personal space, but she was, and she emitted an audible gasp as he placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. The only point of contact between them was his hand on hers, but her entire body was fully aware of his. He released her fingers and placed both his hands on her waist, holding her lightly. Somewhere inside her body, her brain disconnected, and she had no idea what she should do next.
When he spoke, his lips were so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her skin.
“Ready?”
For the life of her, she didn’t know what he was talking about. Ready for what? Him? Never!
Having him this close to her wouldn’t do. She had the strongest urge to reach up and press her lips to his. Once upon a time, she might have done just that, but that was before she had decided to put God first—ahead of her intense curiosity and ahead of her growing feelings for this man.
She took a step back so that she was out of Isaiah’s arms and out of his reach. Still, he didn’t move. She took a fortifying breath and turned her side to him, sliding her skirt down her legs and stepping out of it.
He didn’t say anything, nor did he give more than the briefest of appreciative glances at her body before turning and striding into the water.
__________
Isaiah knew he needed to tamp down his attraction to Zoë-Grace. If he didn’t, being as close to her as a swimming lesson required could become rather embarrassing for him. It fascinated him that the more he got to know her, the more attractive she became to him.
Not that she had ever been unattractive. He could still remember the swimsuit she’d been wearing beside the hotel pool all those months ago. It was black and tied behind her neck and back. Today she wore a one-piece suit that kind of looked like two pieces. The green top barely showed any cleavage, and the sides had some kind of ripples... if he remembered correctly, his sister called it ruching... in the chest area, and it hugged her curves. Her waist wasn’t particularly tiny, but he appreciated it when a woman didn’t feel like she would break if he touched her. The green top disappeared into an attached floral bottom on a white background, and there were strings tied into bows on the top of each hip bone.
He forced himself not to stare, instead turning to walk towards the water.
“Um....” He turned back when he heard her voice. She was still standing on the blanket where she had taken off her skirt. He stretched a hand toward her.
“Aren’t we going to have a motivational talk first? A prayer? A sermon? Something?” She looked so scared that he had to force himself not to laugh.
He responded, his voice deliberately low so that she would have to come closer in order to hear him. “How’s this for motivation?”
His strategy worked and she took a few steps toward him. Twenty more steps and she would be at the edge of the water. “Pardon?”
“How’s this for motivation?” he repeated. “Swimming is not only an enjoyable workout, but it’s also a life-changing and life-saving skill.” Another five steps. “What you learn today—if you allow yourself—” five more steps “—will impact the rest of your life and generations to come.” Apparently convinced, she took another deep breath and walked to meet him.
He quickly shared a few important tips she needed to know before having her go through the motions of taking deep breaths and expelling them slowly through her nose.
It took a little time to convince her to move from the spot at which they had been standing, but eventually he got her into water that was about halfway up her torso. For today’s lesson, he intended only to get her to learn how to blow bubbles underwater and to develop enough confidence to float on her back and with her face in the water. If they pushed, he could probably get her swimming today, but by prolonging the lessons, he was guaranteeing himself quality time with Zoë-Grace. And he definitely wanted to spend more and more of that with her. He had little doubt that they would be a bona fide couple by the time she was swimming confidently.
He had thought long and hard about what he wanted when it came to Zoë-Grace. He would be the first to concede that she wasn’t his usual type. He liked his women confident and outgoing, with an adventurous streak. A woman who wouldn’t scoff if he wanted to go ziplining or white-water rafting. A woman who wasn’t afraid to go after what—or whom—she wanted. A woman who enjoyed today and wasn’t too caught up in thinking long-term. A woman who exuded charm and sex appeal and wasn’t in the least bit conservative.
Zoë-Grace was none of those things. In many ways, she was not only the opposite of the women he usually dated; she was also his opposite. Where he was gregarious, she was introverted. Where he could be spontaneous and adventurous, she was reserved and deliberate in the decisions she made. And yet he found himself thinking about her often as he went about his day. Whether he was at work or relaxing, many things reminded him of her and made him want to reach out to her.
He truly enjoyed her company. He liked baiting her with his words and hearing her witty responses. He liked hearing her talk about her plans for the community center and watching her come alive when she imagined how it would impact the people who lived nearby. He liked watching her interact with Aunt Ruby and seeing how much she cared for the elderly woman she had only known for a couple of months. He liked how she could be comfortable talking to both Naydia and the Member of Parliament, the political representative who had done a tour of the center a couple of weeks earlier. He simply enjoyed getting to know her. And the more he learned, the more he wanted to learn.
Seeing her totally relaxed as they had played dodge ball with those kids had convinced him that she needed some of what he had to offer. She needed a little relaxation in her life. She needed to let her hair down now and then. It was only when he saw her laughing as she played with the kids that he had realized how rarely she’d laughed in the months they had known each other. And on that sunny afternoon at the center, he had decided that he was personally going to undertake the challenge of making her laugh more often.
For a woman like Zoë-Grace, that meant thinking about the long haul. She wasn’t the kind of woman he could interest in having a fling. The fact that she was a Christian probably meant there would be no “real” physical intimacy between them for a while, but he would enjoy spending time with her, getting to know her, even without them falling into bed within the first couple of weeks or months of dating. Who knew? That might be a change he considered refreshing rather than frustrating. He was sure she would eventually drop enough of her inhibitions to take their relationship to the logical next step. As he lightly held on to her elbow to reassure her as she got used to the ebb and flow of the water, he almost rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He wasn’t sure exactly how things would progress beginning today, but he just knew they were going to go very well.
__________
Zoë-Grace was still tense. She had listened to every word Isaiah had said, and logically, she understood that as long as she was exhaling, no water could get into her nostrils, but she felt like the moment she became submerged in the water, she would be in the fight of her life. She had felt that way during her immersion baptism, but thankfully, the pastor pulled her up before she started to panic. For the half-second she was underwater, she felt like she was going to die. She came up sputtering, but at least she understood what her pastor in Kingston had meant when he explained in pre-baptism classes that immersion baptism was a symbol of dying to sin and being born again in Christ.
Isaiah had just told her to take a deep breath, place her face in the water until her ears were covered, and blow out for a count of five seconds. She took a few deep breaths, not to fill her lungs but to calm her lingering fears. She forced herself to remember what Aunt Ruby had once told her: she needed to focus on what she knew, not on how she felt. She felt something stronger than fear, but she knew that Isaiah had been trained in CPR and he would not let anything happen to her. She knew she had put the lesson in God’s hands, and wasn’t that the very best place for everything that concerned her? And even if her worst fears were realized, she knew that she had a home in Heaven.
She gripped Isaiah’s hand, took the deepest breath of her life, placed her face in the water until she felt it rushing into her ears, and slowly blew out. One. Two. The bubbles started to tickle her face, and she wanted to stand. Three. Four. Weren’t her lungs completely empty by now? Five.
She straightened, water streaming down her face. She used her hand to wipe the rivulets away and took a deep breath.
Isaiah was smiling at her. “OK?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Talk to me, Zoë-Grace.” His voice was low and reassuring.
“I’m OK.”
“Great. Again.”
Her hesitation was brief this time. She bent at the waist and went through the process again. One. Two. Tickle, tickle. Three. She could do this. Four. Five. Straighten. Wipe face. Deep breath.
Isaiah made her practice until she could make it to a count of ten, and then he asked if she wanted to take a break. She took inventory of her body and her mind and declined the offer. The sun was getting higher in the sky and the day was getting warm. Even though she was feeling more comfortable, once she got on dry land, she would need some time to regroup. She didn’t plan to step foot in the water again for a while.
“Can we just keep doing this?” she proposed. She had become rather comfortable with his hand holding hers for support, so she was still clenching his fingers.
“No.”
She was surprised at how disappointed she was. She didn’t even know she was going to ask, “Why not?” until she did.
“Life is about growth, and growth is about moving forward, Zoë-Grace. You know that. You can blow bubbles underwater now, and that’s fantastic, but if that’s all you’re doing, you’ll never learn to swim. So you get to choose. You can blow bubbles all morning, or you can move to the next step and get that much closer to being an actual swimmer.”
“Well, when you put it that way.... What’s the next step?”
“Since you’re so comfortable blowing bubbles now, we’re going to move to floating face-down in the water.”
“Face-down?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Face-down.” He gave a nod.
She took a deep breath. Blowing bubbles hadn’t been as difficult as she’d first thought. Perhaps the next step wouldn’t be any different. “OK. Floating face-down.”
Still holding her hand, he pulled her around to stand facing him, parallel to the shore. He reached for her other hand and held it. She wondered if he realized that he was rubbing the backs of her hands with his thumbs. How was she supposed to focus on her lesson when his touch was setting off all sorts of electric sparks and crazy thoughts?
“You just want me to put my head in the water and start floating?”
“I want you to take the steps you need to take to learn how to swim. Floating is a part of that. You get that, right?”
“I get that,” she confirmed.
“I’m going to be standing right here in front of you the whole time.”
“Holding my hands?”
“Do you want to hold hands, or do you want to learn to swim? Because if you want to hold hands, that can be arranged. Just name the time and the place.” He smiled.
Without a word, she let go of his hands, causing him to burst into laughter. “OK, Zoë-Grace, message received. Ready? You’re going to fill your lungs and then lie in the water and spread your arms wide like you’re on a cross, OK? I’ll count to five while you blow bubbles and then you can stand.”
Would she ever truly be ready to float face-down? Probably not. That reminder of Christ’s death by crucifixion wasn’t particularly helpful in this context, either.
Once again, she reminded herself of Aunt Ruby’s advice. After inhaling deeply, she whispered yet another quick prayer, placed her face in the water, and relaxed her body so that she was essentially lying just below its surface, her arms wide. Through the sound of the bubbles she was blowing, she heard Isaiah counting, and she forced herself to stay underwater until she heard him say, “Five!”
They practiced floating face-down, blowing bubbles underwater until Zoë-Grace began to feel considerably less trepidation than she had at the start of the lesson.
Isaiah looked at his waterproof watch and then up at the sun. “It’s getting hotter. How about one last thing for today, and we can come back on my next day off, practice what you’ve learned today, and add a few more steps. Then a week or two after that, we can pull it all together and you’ll be swimming.”
Zoë-Grace was surprised that she no longer felt the same fear of being in the ocean as she had when she’d first arrived at the beach. But would she really be swimming soon? The thought excited her. No more reading while Maxwell or anyone else frolicked in the pool. No more sitting under trees at the beach while everyone else swam out to the trampoline anchored several yards offshore. No more staying onshore when everyone else was gone out on a glass-bottom boat, for fear of falling into the water and drowning. Not that she would be the world’s greatest swimmer in the next three or four weeks, but she would at least be able to save herself in an emergency.
“OK,” she said as she smiled at Isaiah. “What’s the one last thing for today?”
Isaiah said, “You’re going to float on your back.”
She felt the anxiety rising again. She had tried floating on her back before, and she had hated it. “Why do I need to float on my back? I mean... I just don’t see myself ever wanting to do the backstroke.”
“You need to learn to float on your back because, again, it’s a life-saving skill. What happens if you go out on a boat and that boat sinks and you end up in the water? What if there’s no land for miles and miles? Where exactly are you going to swim to? You could theoretically float on your back for hours if you needed to. It’s not exactly a passive activity, but if you were swimming and you needed to rest, it would be a good option. Next time we’ll get into treading water, which is another survival skill.”
After advising her to keep some air in her lungs while floating, he moved to stand beside her. “I want you to lie back in my arms. Keep your body stretched but relaxed.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Don’t bend your knees or your arms. Keep your belly up and your ears under the water.”
“OK.”
“I’m going to keep my arms under your body until I feel like it’s OK to move them. And I’ll be right here in case you start to sink. Now, lie back.” He positioned his arms—one behind her back and the other behind her knees. She could feel him using gentle pressure against her knees to encourage her to lie back.
Zoë-Grace lay back against Isaiah’s arms, but it was a real challenge for her to relax her head enough to allow her ears to fill with water. Once the fluid started getting into her ears, she involuntarily tried to stand. After a few rounds of this, she could tell that Isaiah was becoming a little frustrated with her.
“Zoë-Grace,” he said, “do you trust me?”
She took a moment to consider the question. Did she? Yes. She nodded.
“Am I going to let anything happen to you?”
She gave a shake of her head.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I could die.”
“Zoë-Grace.” His tone was stern.
“OK. You won’t let that happen. Outside of drowning, I guess the worst thing that could happen is that my entire face gets covered with water.”
“And what do you think would happen?”
“You would save me.”
He grinned. “Save you? That’s a stretch. It wouldn’t be that serious. But I would definitely lift you so quickly that your nose and mouth wouldn’t get a chance to fill with water.”
“OK.”
“And what’s the best that could happen?”
She took a moment to consider that. “I could learn to float on my back, which could someday save my life.”
He smiled. “Exactly. Let me show you how it’s done.”
He lay back, his ears below the surface, his nose and mouth clear of the water. He took shallow breaths and gently paddled with his feet and his hands, which were along his body. After a minute or so, he stood.
“The key to floating is to relinquish control of my body. I’ve got to recognize that I’m in a large body of water, and the laws of physics will apply. No matter how smart I am, no matter what I tell my mind to do, I cannot outwit the ocean. So at some point, I’ve got to just relax and allow the water to take over. I’ve got to stop trying to control the water and try to determine how best to work with it instead of struggling against it. Once my lungs are at least half-full of air and no water is getting into my nose or mouth, the best thing for me to do is just... relax.”
He did just that, lying back in the water again and making paddling motions with his feet and hands. “I could lie here for hours,” he said while taking shallow breaths. “But once I stiffen up... once I begin to resist or empty my lungs, then it’s more likely that water will get into my nose.” He demonstrated, stiffening his limbs and giving a long exhale.
Zoë-Grace began to feel anxious as Isaiah began to sink, the sea covering his face. But he got to his feet and was fine.
“Relax, Zoë-Grace. Stop trying so hard to control everything. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be watching you, my arms under you so you can’t possibly sink. I won’t let anything happen to you. Just trust me. You concentrate on keeping some air in your lungs, and the water will do the rest.”
And she did. A few minutes later, Zoë-Grace was floating on her back, paddling with her feet and hands and taking half-breaths to remain somewhat buoyant. At first, she could feel Isaiah’s arms touching her body, but after she had been lying there for a while, she felt him move them away. He remained standing right beside her, allowing her to do what she needed to do without interference even as he watched closely and, she knew, was fully prepared to intervene if it became necessary. She doubted that he even realized what a powerful sermon this swimming lesson was preaching.