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He wasn’t sure what he felt at this moment.
There was anger. He swore he wouldn’t be here and he was. He had to get over that.
There was frustration. His life was being shaken up once again, but he wouldn’t leave his mother to handle this on her own.
There was sadness. He’d never let anyone know that.
Maybe because it was such a shock that he felt it. He wasn’t even sure where it was coming from.
It definitely wasn’t all the memories of his father berating him to work faster and get off his phone. To follow him around to make sure he knew where everything was and treated the clients well.
He got up and looked out the window and saw one of the docks by the water. The one he fell into one summer. He’d been four, he remembered it now. He was following his father around like a kid did at that age.
He was a typical boy and thought it’d be great to be with Dad over Mom. It didn’t bother him his father spent more time working and less interacting with him.
But he’d tripped and fallen in, gotten pinned between the dock and a boat. His father was right there fast and bending over and yanked him up out of the water. Making sure he was fine. Checking him over for injuries.
He started to cry the minute his father yelled at him for being clumsy. That he had to pay attention or he’d get himself killed.
Not the best thing to say to a four-year-old and he started to cry louder. His mother heard the commotion and came running down to see what was going on, pulling him away. His father telling her not to coddle him, it’d make him weak.
Sad that he remembered that at such a young age. One of many things he wanted to push from his brain.
It didn’t seem to happen so he decided to get to work. The sooner he could help his mother sell this place the better it’d be for everyone.
They weren’t the poshest of marinas in Mystic. But they were a nice middle of the line.
Boaters could come here and not feel like they had to be more than they were. Most weren’t snooty. More like middle class busting their ass to get a boat and needing a place to store it in the winter, dock it in the summer. They did both here.
They repaired the boats too, they fueled them, and they had a restaurant. He’d make his way there next.
He sat in his father’s chair and booted up the computer.
It was slower than a pig moving in quicksand and he shook his head.
Not password protected either. He didn’t know how many times he told his father not to do that.
“I’m surprised to find you in here.”
He looked at his mother in the doorway. “Not as surprised as me, but it’s not like I could avoid it the whole time.” His eyes shifted to the wall that his father put his fist through once during one of their more colorful fights. Always behind closed doors and not many really saw how bad it was other than his mother and Zara.
“That’s true. I’ll need to get everything on your father’s computer transferred to mine. I’ve been working off of both of them. I don’t suppose that is something you can do?”
He laughed. “Easily,” he said.
It’d give him something to warm up on before he made his way around the grounds. Being early November there wasn’t a lot of action from people getting on the water. A lot of boats were being stored and winterized now too.
He remembered the timing of it all. He even knew how to do it, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He was surprised his hands weren’t shaking even thinking of it.
“I’ll let you take care of that while I deal with a few other things. When you’re done let me know and we’ll go to the restaurant. We can get some lunch by then and talk over things.”
“Sounds good,” he said.
He unhooked his father’s computer and brought it to his mother’s office. He didn’t feel right staying in here.
He wanted to get it out of his system, but it felt wrong to him.
Too much degrading and negativity that he swore he’d never do to Max. To any of his children that he might have.
