Fifteen years ago, I was crushed under the weight of the loss of my father. I realized then how easily life could change, how quickly someone you loved could be taken from you, and I knew then that I couldn’t stay in Alaska with Austin, not when there was a risk of something happening to him. I also knew after mentioning leaving to him that he never would; his family had been fishing in Alaska for generations.
He grew up loving the sea, grew up knowing he would spend his life doing something he loved and that one day he would pass his love for fishing down to his children, the same way his father and his grandfather before him had done. I couldn’t ask him to choose me, so I left him behind. Even though in leaving him, I left a piece of myself. My only hope at the time was that the parts of me I was able to salvage would be enough to get me through the rest of my life.
Leaning over the side of the ferry, I look down at the water then hold out my left hand. Five years ago, I got married. I thought Ken could heal me. I thought the parts of me that were left after losing my father and leaving Austin would finally be full. I knew my father would want me to be happy, and I knew from talks with my mom that Austin had moved on, so it was time for me to do the same, to stop believing he would come after me, that our love was more than just a teenage love story.
I tried to give Ken all of me. I tried to make things work, but in the end, I failed and he found what he was looking for in someone else. I won’t say it didn’t hurt, but I wasn’t devastated by the loss of us. I was more upset that the idea of us had been ruined, but if I was honest, I brought it upon myself when I gave him our vows but didn’t follow through on my end.
Slipping my wedding ring off my finger, I feel tears pool in my eyes as I drop the metal band into the ocean, watching it disappear before squeezing my eyes closed. There was no going back, and now wasn’t the time to feel sorry for myself. I needed to pull myself together enough to take care of my mother. My mother, who had flown out to Montana to see me every few months since I left home. My mother, who was never the same after the loss of my father. I’m not sure how I’m going to cope with her illness, or eventually the loss of her, but I know I will need to find a way, especially if I’m going to survive myself.
“Lea?” My eyes open and I turn my head. “Lea Lamb?” I feel my eyebrows pull downward in confusion as I take in the woman in front of me.
“Rhonda.” She points at herself and smiles. “We went to school together.”
“Rhonda?” I repeat in shock. The once chubby girl who didn’t have many friends had become a stunning woman. With red hair that fit her fair skin, her face was round, but her cheekbones were pronounced, showing off her button nose and full lips. “How are you?” I ask, stepping back from the edge of the boat.
“Good…great, really.” She smiles wider and places a hand on her stomach, which I realize is large and round, but the stylish coat she’s wearing minimizes it.
“You look beautiful.”
“You do too, but then you were always beautiful.” She smiles then waves at someone over my shoulder. When I turn my head, I see a handsome man wearing jeans, a hoodie, and a vest, walking towards us. His long hair is pushed back away from his chiseled face and his skin is tan. His sunglasses hide his eyes, but there is something familiar about him.
“Ben, look who’s here,” Rhonda says, and it takes everything in me to not run away when Ben looks at me, pushes his sunglasses up to the top of his head, and frowns. Ben was Austin’s best friend in high school, and judging by the look in his eyes, he’s not happy to see me.
“What are you doing here?” He snaps.
“Ben,” Rhonda hisses, coming to hold onto my arm gently like she’s trying to offer me support which is strange.
“No, you know the way she left Wolf,” he says, looking at Rhonda. Then he looks at me and snarls, “Why are you here?”
I know I deserve this, but I won’t lie and say it doesn’t burn just a little that someone I had once considered a friend was looking at me like I was the scum of the earth. I was hurt, too. Yes, I left, but he never came after me; he never even asked my mom where I was, if I was okay…nothing.
“You know why she’s here, Ben,” Rhonda says softly, moving to stand at his side, resting her hands on his chest. His eyes leave me and go to her. His face goes soft as he wraps his hand around the back of her neck, dropping his forehead to hers and speaking gently. I take two steps back then pull in a deep breath.
“Stay away from him,” Ben says, standing upright and turning his head my way.
“He won’t even know I’m in town,” I tell him, taking a step back then turning on my heels and heading to my car, where I sit for the rest of the ferry ride.
*
“Mom,” I call as I walk into the house.
The smell hits me, and it’s exactly the same as when I was little. It’s so familiar that I almost choke on it as it saturates my lungs.
“Honey,” Mom whispers from the couch, where she is lying covered by one of the many blankets she knitted.
“Are you okay?” I ask, going to her side, getting down on my knees.
She still looks the same as the last time I saw her a month ago. Her hair is long and grey, her face tan from hours in the sun, planting flowers, and her eyes are a brown similar to mine. It’s hard to believe she is so sick, that she only has months to live. The doctors caught the cancer too late, and it has already spread from her uterus to her stomach. They said she could try chemo, but she refused, saying that if she was going to die, she would do it on her terms, and not while having poisons pumped into her body.