“I should have been stronger,” she says, and I hear tears in her voice as she gives me a squeeze back.
“You did the best you could, Mom.”
“When I go, honey, I don’t want you to hold onto that pain. I want you to breathe through it and move on with your life don’t do what I did.”
“I’m not sure it’s going to be that easy.”
“You need to make it that easy honey,” she says, opening her door and getting out before I have a chance to say anything else. Taking a deep breath, I pull the balloons from the backseat then follow her.
“Holy crap,” I whisper, taking in the scene before me. Five boats are docked side-by-side, each of them with at least twenty people onboard. I make my way down to Ben’s boat, and my heart begins to hammer in my chest when I see Austin. His hand is out, helping my mom aboard.
“Give me your hand baby.” Austin calls and I hadn’t even realized I was standing froze in place near the edge of the boat.
“I.” His hand shoots out wrapping around my wrist before I can back away then he puts one foot on the dock and lifts me over the ledge of the boat. When my feet touch the floor his face dips towards mine.
“Are you okay?”
I lift my eyes to him and feel my lip tremble at the concerned look in his gaze.
“I’m okay.”
“You’re lying.”
“I know,” I agree, trying to pull free from his embrace.
“I want you to come over tonight.” He says and all worries about being on the boat are forgotten.
“Why?” I lower my voice. “We’re not friends, Austin. You told me that straight up, so there is no reason for us to spend time together.”
“I lied; I don’t hate you. I wanted to hate you—my life would have been easier if I could have—but I don’t. I never have. I want to be your friend, Lea. I think you could use a friend right now.” Maybe in another lifetime I could have been his friend, but there’s too much history between us now.
I watch pain flash in his eyes as he whispers, “She hasn’t told you.”
“Pardon?”
“Honey, we’re pulling off. Do you want to come inside with me?” my mom breaks in.
Austin’s eyes go to her and he looks like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it before telling me, “Go on inside. You shouldn’t be out in the cold.”
I want to ask him what he meant when he said she hasn’t told me, but the boat starts up and he turns his back on me, leaning over the side and pulling off the rope that keeps us tethered to the dock. I follow my mom into the wheelhouse, where Rhonda and Ben are, but I don’t take my eyes off Austin as he stands on the deck, looking out at the water, a million emotions playing across his face.
“What was Austin saying?” Rhonda asks, and I look at her, seeing concern in her eyes.
“He asked me to come over tonight,” I tell her without thinking about the other people with us. I’m still caught off guard by his request.
“You should go,” my mom chimes in, causing my gaze to go to her. “It would be good for you to get out of the house.” She may be right about me getting out of the house. Since coming into town, I have only left the house to go to the store. But spending time with Austin wouldn’t be good for me. In fact, I’m pretty sure it would be bad…really, really bad.
“You should go,” Rhonda agrees then looks at my mom, and I see something pass between them.
“I’ll think about it,” I tell them, and I will, but I won’t go. Thankfully, they let it go, and we spend the rest of the ride in silence.
When we reach where the remains of my dad’s boat were found, I take in the beauty of the location. The sun’s out, reflecting off the calm water, and off in the distance are small islands covered in lush forest. It looks like somewhere my dad would have brought my mom and me to just float around in the water and have lunch, like we did often when he had a day off. After all five boats make a circle and drop anchor, people stand out on the decks of the boats, chatting and telling stories about my dad, while I pass around balloons and markers to people who want them.
“Are you okay?” I ask, taking a seat next to my mom as I watch her write away on the red balloon, covering almost the whole surface with her message to Dad.
“For once, I feel free,” she tells me, handing over the black sharpie she was using. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” She looks up at the view then back to me.
“It is.”
“I resented the ocean for so long for taking him away from me. So long, I forgot it was what brought him to me in the first place.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your dad was a fisherman. Without the sea bringing him to Cordova, to me, we never would have met. I never would have had you.”
“It took him from us,” I remind her as tears fill my eyes.
“He left this earth doing something he loved, something that was in his blood. He loved us—don’t get me wrong—and I know deep down in my bones that he fought to come home, but I also know if he had to die, he did it in the place he loved.”
She was right; my dad would spend the winters at home, and even if he was happy, he was never happier than when he would put his boat back in the water for the first time each year.
“I know you’re right, but it still hurts.”
“It’s okay to hurt.” She wraps her arms around me, causing tears to spill from my eyes. When she pulls away, her eyes go to the balloon in my hand. “Write your message, honey, then we let him go.”