With her bladder empty, she was able to breathe again, and she took time to brush her teeth in the McDonalds bathroom sink and then stare at herself in the mirror. She looked like she had slept in a car all night, but it wasn’t too different from the way she normally looked. Her face was creased from the seat headrest.
But she was on Tybee Island in Georgia. She was in a new state.
She’d finally, finally left Florida.
Megan was still staring at herself in the mirror and smiling when the door swung open and Scarlett came in. “Out of the way,” she mumbled, heading for the stall and then locking the door. “We’d better get a move on if you want to catch the sunrise,” she said from behind the closed door.
“You want to grab breakfast while we’re here?” Megan asked.
“Sure. I’ll meet you out there.”
Megan bought them both sandwiches, hoping Scarlett still liked Egg McMuffins, and was waiting outside when Scarlett finally came out. “I had to brush my teeth,” Scarlett explained. “My mouth tasted like the inside of a sock.”
“Ew.” Megan handed her the bag of sandwiches and the cup of coffee. “I don’t know how you take your coffee, so I had them put cream and sugar on the side.”
“Thanks.” Scarlett took them. “One cream, two sugars.”
“What?”
“That’s how I take my coffee.” She tucked the bag under her arm to dress her coffee. “Cold as fuck out here, huh?”
Megan hadn’t really noticed until she said something. “I’m too sleepy to notice. You must be dying.”
“It’s okay. I’ve pulled my share of all-nighters.” Scarlett stifled a yawn behind her hand. “Let’s go, yeah? It’s gonna be dawn soon.”
“You all right to drive?” Megan asked. Scarlett generally looked put-together, but right now, she definitely didn’t. She had her hair pulled up into one big, messy bun at the top of her head, and she was still wearing her traveling pajamas.
“I’m good. Let’s go. I want to take you to the ocean.” Scarlett climbed in and buckled up. Immediately, she paused, sighed, and closed her eyes. “No. I’m not all right. What about you? Can you drive?”
“Yeah. Better than you. Get out.” Megan climbed out of her car and switched seats with Scarlett. “Which way to the beach?”
Scarlett pointed vaguely down the road. “Straight down there.”
Megan adjusted the seat and the mirrors and pulled out onto the road. Scarlett was already nodding off, resting her head back against the seat. She looked so innocent when she was sleepy. It was hard to remember that Megan was somewhat intimidated by Scarlett. She drove out toward the water and put that thought behind her.
Megan had seen the ocean before, obviously. She lived in Florida her whole life. She’d spent much of her beach time on the Gulf coast, with its bathwater-warm temperatures and gorgeous sunsets. Once or twice, she’d swum in the Atlantic ocean, crossing the state to Cocoa Beach to brave the crowds and get a dip in the somewhat cooler waters. But she never had done that in the winter. Now, headed toward the shore, the buildings diminished in frequency before disappearing altogether, and she followed the brown signs until she reached the parking lot at the edge of the beach at the edge of the water.
The sky was already turning pink with the rosy tendrils of dawn, and Megan’s breath quickened in excitement. She needed to see it from the shore.
Scarlett was snoring, and she didn’t care about this beach visit anyway, so Megan might as well leave her behind. She grabbed her jacket out of the backseat, and her instant-print camera, and opened the car door into the blowing wind.
Damn, it was cold. The wind immediately pulled Megan’s breath from her lungs, and she zipped her coat all the way up to her chin. Too bad she didn’t have a hat. The wind blowing made it feel freezing, and yet she didn’t care. She tucked her neck down into her coat, pulled up her hood, and headed down the path toward the shore.
Tall grasses bent in the wind, stretching out as far as she could see, with the small rolling sand dunes guiding her down to the water’s edge. The sun was just peeking above the horizon as she stepped from the wooden boardwalk down onto the sand itself, her shoes sinking into the white surface with little grains blowing up over the edges. The air smelled like salt and cold, with the wind in her face still taking her breath away. She loved this. She loved the beach, and she loved the water, and right now, she could be happy even though she was alone.
Megan waited with her camera until the first red gleams stretched long over the water. Film was expensive and she wasn’t going to waste it. So she waited, as she always had the patience to wait, as she had been trained to wait over years of photography. In this digital age, it was easy to take a dozen pictures in search of the right one, and she liked to do that as well. But there was also something precious about getting the imperfect shot on actual film. She held up her camera and snapped. The film ejected, sliding out of the slot with a whirring noise, and she cradled the photo while she watched the sun climb past the horizon.
“Would you look at that.”
Scarlett’s voice behind her made Megan jump.
“I was letting you sleep,” Megan said. She wasn’t sure if it was out of altruism or because she wanted to be alone, wanted to have this moment without Scarlett making fun of her for it. Another part of her definitely wanted to share this time, this beauty, to have someone who would appreciate it the way she did. “I didn’t want to bother you. I know you didn’t want to come here.”
Megan didn’t want to be vulnerable. She may desperately deep inside want Scarlett’s approval, but she didn’t need it. She could live without it.
Scarlett looked toward the horizon, her eyes going soft. “It’s beautiful.”
Something eased inside Megan’s chest.
Scarlett nodded to the camera still hanging around Megan’s neck. “Why don’t you use your cell phone?”
Megan had fielded that question a lot over the years. “It’s different.” She could explain more, but she sort of didn’t want to. She wanted Scarlett to understand without being told.
Scarlett seemed to get it. “Something real, right? Not just on a screen.”
“Yes, exactly.” A trickle of hope blossomed inside Megan. “It’s permanent.”
“How’d it come out?” Scarlett asked, gesturing toward the photo that Megan was holding close to her hoodie in thin, cold fingers.
“I don’t know yet. I’ll look after.” Megan nodded to the horizon. “I don’t want to miss this.”
Scarlett turned to the sunrise that Megan was watching and fell silent. They stood side by side in the dawn light, watching as the sun crested the horizon like an orange fireball. There weren’t good words for the beauty; if Megan was a poet, perhaps she could capture it, but instead, she was just an ordinary person who didn’t write anything except captions on photographs. The colors faded, one to the next, a panoply of warm hues. In front of her, the ocean waves rolled back and forth, crashing on shore, dragging gravel back with each grating pull.