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The more I thought about it, the more I realized he was right. I wanted to get away—somewhere other than my parents’ house, or my empty apartment.
*
The lake cabin was an hour from Providence, up in Massachusetts. I was expecting a dilapidated shack with a bucket for a toilet, but it was actually a pretty nice A-frame cabin with plenty of natural light and modern fixtures. I had two bars of cell signal here, but the welcome booklet explained that there was no internet. Just satellite television.
A week without internet will be good for me, I thought.
The cabin had a stocked whiskey bar, and I got good and drunk that night while watching reruns of Frasier. Despite being hungover the next morning, I went for a jog on the four-mile trail that circled the lake. That didn’t make me feel any better, but the throbbing headache and burning lungs during the last sprint felt like adequate self-flagellation.
I was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—I didn’t bring much in the way of food—when a car pulled into the driveway. From the kitchen window, I watched my dad get out and come inside.
“I thought I was supposed to have a week of peace and quiet?” I asked, hugging him.
“Peace and quiet is what I’m here to help you with,” he replied. “I’m taking you fishing on the lake.”
“Dad, you know I hate fishing. I appreciate the gesture, but…”
“You need some time on the lake more than anyone right now,” he replied. “Make me one of those sandwiches and put on sunscreen. I’ll meet you at the dock in ten minutes.”
By the time I walked out there, Dad had readied the two-person rowboat. I got inside, and he began rowing us out onto the lake. After a few minutes, I started laughing.
“What’s tickling your funny bone?”
“I was just thinking about how this is the opposite of how I’ve lived the past few months,” I explained. “On a yacht surrounded by servants.”
“I’m sure that was nice, but there’s something to be said for the simple life.” He stopped rowing and opened a cooler, tossing me a beer. “Can’t fish without beer.”
“I’m… not in the mood to drink,” I said.
“Because you’re hungover?” He pointed. “That Miller Lite will fix your head. Both the hangover and your wits.”
I cracked it open and took a long sip while Dad prepped the fishing rods. We each cast our lines in opposite directions, then relaxed as we waited.
“I do all my best thinking while fishing,” Dad explained. “You wouldn’t be here if not for some good fishing time.”
I gave a start. “Really? How’s that?”
“When I was about your age, your mother announced to me that she was ready to have children. This wasn’t a joint decision; she wanted two daughters, and she was going to have them. My participation was optional.” He chuckled. “I’m exaggerating, of course. But still. Your mother was insistent.”
“You weren’t ready for kids?” I had never heard this story before.
He shook his head. “I didn’t think so. I wanted to wait a little longer. We had only been married for a year. Having kids is a big decision, and I didn’t think I should jump into it without being fully committed. So I went fishing for a weekend and gave it a long think.”
“And decided that Mom was right?”
He shook his head. “Hell no! I knew she was rushing things. But I also knew I loved her more than life itself, and I was willing to compromise because of it. Soon after that, you came along. And it changed me. For the better.” He sipped his beer. “Now, Carly on the other hand…”
I laughed. “She was a terror.”
“It’s a good thing she wasn’t the first born, or we never would’ve had a second.” He glanced out at the lake. “But the point is that people change for the ones they love. You shouldn’t change too much, obviously. But everyone changes a little. That’s just life, Mel.”
“We’re not talking about a little change, Dad,” I said gently. “While I was with Pierce, I changed a lot. Wearing expensive clothes and jewelry, going to fashion shows…”
“Those are superficial things,” he replied. “That doesn’t really matter. Not if you stay the same person on the inside. And sure, you’re upset about the wedding and think that you should have realized how you were acting. Maybe you’re right. But the fact that you did realize it, and are so stubborn about staying the same Melinda Norris as always, is a good sign. It means you’re still grounded.”
“Right. Because I’m not with Pierce anymore.”
He shook his head. “Pierce doesn’t have anything to do with it. You’re self-aware, whether you’re with him or sitting on this lake with an old man who likes to ramble.”
