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I close my eyes and breathe in the fresh, salty air. My lips curve into a smile.
This feels nice.
Suddenly, I hear a child’s laughter. I open my eyes and turn my head to see Maisie in her red swimsuit, giggling as she chases after the receding waves and laughing even louder when they come rushing back to the shore.
A few feet away, Jackson stands watching, wearing just a white shirt and baggy shorts. I try not to stare at his chest outlined through the thin cotton. Ken stands beside him – she insisted on coming, and neither Jackson nor I had the heart to say no. They seem to be discussing something serious.
Something about work, maybe? But didn’t they come here to escape work?
Oh well. I guess it just shows how passionate those two are about the restaurant, about what they do. I should try to be more like them.
But not today, I think as I gaze at the horizon. Today, I’m going to enjoy the beach. Just like Maisie.
I smile as I glance at her still playing with the waves. I walk towards her, thinking of joining her.
“Maisie!” I call her name.
She laughs. “Cathy, look! I’m a wave.”
She turns around so that her back is facing the ocean and starts walking backwards. When the wave comes, she squeals as the water pools around her ankles. Then, as it recedes, she walks back some more.
“Okay, that’s enough,” I say after she takes a few steps.
She keeps going, though, and I suddenly realize she’s being pulled by the wave, being swept to sea by the current.
I run towards her. “Maisie!”
Suddenly, a big wave comes in, washing over her.
“Maisie!”
I charge into the water but pause when it splashes above my knees, colder than I expected.
Cold. Dark.
Out of nowhere, a memory comes back – a memory of me swimming in a lake on a dark night. My head is above water but the rest of me shivers beneath it.
“Cathy!” Maisie shouts.
“Maisie!” I hear Jackson yell behind me.
I dismiss the flashback and swim towards Maisie. The water splashes on my face but I ignore it and reach for her hand. Once my fingers are wrapped around her wrist, I pull her against me and put my arm around her.
“It’s alright, sweetie,” I tell her.
I start to head back to shore where Jackson is waiting, but suddenly another memory hits me.
Trisha standing on the shore. She’s talking to someone. I don’t know who. I call her name but she doesn’t hear me. My leg hurts and my body freezes. I can’t move.
“Cathy!” Jackson pulls me out of the water.
He takes Maisie from my arms and hands her to Ken. Then he kneels beside me.
“Cathy, are you alright?”
I cough a few times from the water I’ve swallowed, then rest my head on the sand as I catch my breath. The big blue sky spreads out above me, but I’m thinking of a different sky – an ebony sky with a full moon hiding behind clouds and hardly any stars hanging over a lake…
“Cathy?” Jackson cups my face.
I look into his eyes. Trisha’s eyes.
Trisha.
Did I just remember the last time I saw her alive? But why was she on the shore and not me?
My chest suddenly feels tight, and not because of the water. My heart feels heavy. A lump quivers in my throat.
Jackson strokes my cheek. “Cathy?”
The next thing I know, I’m sobbing.
~
“How do you feel?” Jackson asks me hours later as he enters my room with a sandwich, a bowl of sliced fruits and a bottle of whipped cream.
I glance at him from the bed and give him a slight smile.
“Better.”
It’s true. After unleashing all those tears which suddenly came at me from nowhere, my chest feels lighter. My head feels clearer, too, and while some sadness still lingers in my heart, I no longer feel burdened or overwhelmed by it. I’m calm now.
Jackson sets the tray of food down on the bedside table and sits on the edge of the bed. His eyes brim with concern as he places his hand over mine.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Thinking back now, I shouldn’t have brought you here to the beach. Or anywhere with water. I should have known it would make you remember… what happened to… Trisha.”
He means Trisha drowning. That’s not what I remembered, though.
For a moment, I wonder if I should tell Jackson what I did remember, but I decide not to. They’re just fragments of memories, after all, pieces of a puzzle that still don’t make sense. If I tell him, I’ll only make him worry.
I shake my head and touch his cheek. “It’s not your fault. Besides, I’m okay now, so let’s just forget about it. I’d feel worse if I knew I ruined our little vacation.”
He smiles. “Okay.”
“Where’s Maisie?” I ask him curiously.
