Page 55 of Learning at 40

As the boys were in a pirate phase, we decided on canoeing. Robbyn’s River Adventures was about forty-five minutes away, offering canoe trips and inner tube floats down a four-mile stretch of the river. Oliver opted to ride with River while Trevor went with me on our paddling excursion. At one point, we stopped and had lunch on a sandbar while the boys chased a dragonfly. I swear I couldn’t think of a better day which said a lot, as every other day so far with River and the twins had been amazing. She was amazing.

Her calm, sunny demeanor was just what my boys needed, and once again, I wished I could bottle her up. Or hire her as my nanny. The thought reminds me a new one starts on Monday. I’d run out of options in people who could handle my troublesome twins. We needed a Mary Poppins figure compared to all the Miss Trunchbulls we’d had.

As I watched River interact with the boys, I didn’t know how I’d leave her behind or pull my boys away from her. She’d been such an unexpected distraction on this trip, and she’d been so good for all of us. Deep inside, I knew I was making another huge mistake with my children by allowing them to get close to a woman I couldn’t have, but I’d grown just as close to her and didn’t want to think about giving her up until the very last second.

Ten-day fling, I’d teased her a little more than a week ago. My ten days were almost up, and I flicked my wrist to glance at my watch, which I wasn’t wearing. In some ways, it was nice not to rely on time, but on the other hand, I wondered where my watch went.

As we end our canoe trip, a man awaits us on the dock. He’s an older guy with a floppy sun hat on his head, looking a bit like Bill Murray as the groundskeeper in Caddyshack.

“How was the trip?” His rugged voice calls out as we approach.

“Great,” River responds as he leans off the dock and guides her canoe to a stop before helping Oliver out of the craft. River follows, and I watch as the helper tugs the metal boat up a divot in the sloped land next to a wooden staircase. With my hand cupped under the dock, I hold my canoe in place, and River helps Trevor exit our craft. I hop out next and drag the canoe up the designated path. Once I set it next to River’s I look up to find the man standing close behind me. So close I can see his eyes, and recognition hits me. I know this man.

Fuck.

“Have a good time?” His deep voice isn’t recognizable, nor is the expression on his face. A hundred emotions are written in his eyes, but I can’t read any of them. I don’t want to read them. Instead, I see red.

“What the hell are you doing here?” The anger in my voice cannot be hidden. Just what the fuck is happening here?

“Zack!” River snaps, somewhere beside me.

“Saw your name on the schedule. Had to see if it was really you.”

River steps closer and offers her hand. “Hi. I’m River.”

The man reaches out and takes her offering, but my body vibrates. Everything in me wants to smack his arm and yell don’t touch her. Her other hand lands on my forearm, attempting to calm me.

“Nice to meet you,” he says to her, but I don’t believe him. Nothing out of his mouth can be the truth. He turns for the boys next. “And who are you two?”

“We don’t talk to—”

“Oliver,” my son announces, patting his chest.

“Trevor,” he introduces himself.

River’s hand remains on my arm, but I can’t feel her touch. My skin burns. My throat dries. This cannot be happening.

“Enjoy your adventure?” this unfamiliar-familiar man questions, bending at the waist to address my sons.

“It was great,” Oliver says.

“Dad had trouble steering the ship,” Trevor admits, and I want to clamp my hand over my son’s mouth. I’m out of practice, I should defend. I can’t remember the last time I went canoeing. It might have been as far back as when I was a kid—when I went with my dad.

My eyes narrow on the man before us, standing too close to my boys.

“I remember canoeing with my sons when they were about your age,” the Bill Murray wannabe says, and I snap.

“You aren’t allowed those memories.”

“Zack,” River hisses beside me. She wants my attention, but my eyes remain firmly on the man standing upright to face me. A man who looks nothing like I remember, yet instantly, every memory returns to me.

“I’ll keep my memories, thank you. As it’s all I have.”

“Whose fault is that?” I mutter. Without waiting on a response, I reach for a bag near River’s feet and round him, barking my sons’ names before stalking off. Waiting for them near the car, River gets to me first.

“That was so rude,” she scolds, coming up to me. “Do you even know that man?”

“Nope.” I don’t have a clue who he is now.