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I must have looked at her as if she’d lost her mind by the look on her face. “Oh, dear. I’m sorry, I guess we didn’t tell you. After lunch we decided to take a boat ride instead of watching old movies.”
Well, that was certainly a twist, I thought as I set the bag near the cooler, suddenly curious about what was in it. I tapped my foot on the ground, anxiously waiting to get the day started so it could end quickly. My mom's hair, a sandy blonde, was a neat, wispy bob today. She looked put together in her collared button-down and pleated shorts. The light pink looked good against her tan skin. I could tell she’d been doing a lot of gardening and playing plenty of tennis.
“Dad, want to help me by handing stuff to me on the boat?” Derrick asked.
“You got it. Lead the way, son.” Dad stood, picked up the two bags they’d brought, and followed Derrick out. I felt like I was in some kind of time warp; nothing was as it was supposed to be, and it was throwing me off balance in the most unexpected way imaginable.
“Okay, let’s eat.” Mom said as she sat at one end of the table and Dad at the other.
I sat next to Nicole, practically pushing Derrick out of the way, and almost knocking him on his ass. “Sorry man, you get the kids; I need to talk to Nikki,” I said in a rushed whisper.
“For God's sake, Parker Ryan, what has gotten into you?” My mother scolded me. Feeling like a damn ten-year-old, I sat down in a huff, pouting like a kid.
Dinner was surprisingly uneventful, except for the unexpected burgers instead of Robert’s favorite, beef stew. I didn’t bother questioning their choices; it was clear whatever was happening, and I was the only one who seemed confused.
The air was cooling off as we cleaned the table and readied ourselves for the boat outing. The babysitter had shown up fifteen minutes earlier to watch the kids while the adults enjoyed an evening on the water.
“Would you mind telling me what in the hell is going on?” I asked Nicole the minute we were alone.
“We decided it was time to put Robert to rest once and for all.”
“Oh? And when were you going to tell me?” I paced as I ran my hands down my face. The heat pricked my face as anger built in my gut. This was total bullshit. I had lived with the guilt of Robert’s death for fourteen years, and I said so to Nicole.
“Parks, we know you blame yourself. But it never was–and never will be–your fault! Don’t you think we watch you shut down when someone near you gets hurt? It’s not healthy or normal. You’ve got to move on; you must get some closure. The counselors have said it to you and us, and now I’ve demanded it from Mom and Dad. It’s time.”
I could feel the hot tears roll down my face as she spoke. I wiped them with my hand as she put her arms around my neck, standing on her tiptoes. “Now get on the fuckin’ boat. That’s an order; we’re spreading Robert’s ashes.”
As the boat bobbed over the waves, the memories of that night flooded my mind. I was sixteen years old, and Robert was six weeks old. Mom had run to the store, and dad was at work. I was in charge of him and Nicole; she was ten. I played kickball with her out back, and baby Robert was asleep in his bassinet on the lanai.
With every wave came a memory; I thought I would vomit, and my stomach hurt. Robert’s tiny little gurgling noises that babies make when sucking their hands. He cried out when he couldn’t find his fist; the sound of Nicole’s cheers when she ran across home plate. Then, the sound of Mom screaming. I held my ears as soon as I heard sirens.
The paramedics told my parents there was nothing anyone could’ve done; it was Sudden Infant Death syndrome. That was the worst day of my life, and there hadn’t been a day that went by that I hadn’t blamed myself. There wasn’t ever an accident, an injury, or an incident that didn’t make me freeze to this very day.
Olivia
You don't love someone because they're perfect, you love them in spite of the fact that they're not. Jodi Picoult,My Sister's Keeper
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to thank you for flying with us today. Have a safe rest of your stay if you’re visiting; if you live here in the Outer Banks, welcome home,” the pilot said as he taxied the runway to our destination.
If there was one thing I hated more than commercial flights, it was tiny puddle jumpers. To say that I was on edge and anxious would be putting it lightly. I had already broken one of my favorite earrings off the stud by fiddling with it too much.
“Excuse me. Sorry,” I said to the lady sitting next to me as we both stood to exit the aircraft, and I accidentally hit her with my carry-on bag.
“Oh, no problem, dear. Where are you headed?”
Great, the little white-haired lady wanted to chat.
“Ocracoke Island,” I answered without looking at her.
“That’s a lovely place; we live in Hatteras. Do you have a way to get to the ferry? Oh, dear.” She looked down at her watch. “I’m afraid it will be close to the last one of the evening.”
I took a deep breath, realizing a longer explanation would be necessary. “Yes, ma’am. I have a hotel in Nags Head tonight, which someone is waiting to take me to, then in the morning I will catch the first ferry over.”
“Well then, you have it all figured out.”
I smiled, finding it hard to be irritated when the lady was so sweet. “I do, but can you recommend a place to eat?” Okay, so I wanted to take it one step further than nice. The old lady clearly wanted to chat. Let’s face it: I also needed to get out of my head.
“Yes, there are several places. Let me think.”
