“Close your mouth!” We’re taken under again, and I am disoriented by the time we resurface. I spin around, trying to find the shore, but my hair covers my face, choking me and blocking my eyes. The water is so cold it crushes my lungs, making it seem like I’ll never take a full breath again. Olive clings to me, gripping my neck so hard I couldn’t breathe even if there were air available. When we come back up, I try to scream for help, but my voice comes out strangled, and I know it will be lost against the rocks. We’re being dragged to the cliff again, and I’m frozen with fear at what is about to come.
I lift her head above the water and hold her up while I fight the tide, trying to find a way to get us out of this. We are pushed to shore, then sucked down, then out to sea and back up again. I join forces with the rhythm. This time, I don’t waste energy trying to fight the tide, but use it to my advantage, pushing off with one foot against the rocks when the tide starts to pull us out to sea.
I kick with every bit of strength I possess, and my legs cut through the water. My wet jeans and jacket are lead weighing me down, along with Olive’s body. They slow my movements until I’m not sure if I’ve even made an inch of progress. It’s all I can do to hold myself up, to get her head above the water. Somehow, I catch a piece of a wave headed for a sandy break in the rocks. If I can just hold onto her, if I can just keep moving toward the beach until my body gives up, we’ll get there. Keep going. Let the tide take you home.
I spend the last of my strength to get us around the bend, and then let the waves carry us to the sandy shore, while I hold Olive up as best I can. I am unable to keep my head above the water now. There is nothing left in me but the thought of holding onto her. Get her to the shore. Just get her there.
I’m suddenly being pulled toward the beach, and through a sliver of light between my hair, I see hands gripping my jacket. I’m being dragged onto the sand as I clutch Olive with both hands, wild with terror. With each blink, my vision grows more dim. Then everything goes black.
* * *
The sound of shouting wakes me. I open my eyes and see a pair of boots next to me. I turn my head to the side, and water comes out of my lungs in violent sputters. I choke as it comes out of my nose and mouth. My body shakes violently as I try to stay awake long enough to know if Olive will be okay.
I hear Liam’s voice as though it’s through a tunnel, even though he’s right beside me. He’s crying and yelling. “Olive, I’m here.” He shouts at her. “Dad’s here.”
I see her legs, limp and still, as she’s flipped onto her side.
“Olive! Olive!”
Panic sets in. I choke and gasp. Please don’t let her die.
I have to get to her, but when I try to sit up, my body is useless. I can only move my head, and when I do, pain shoots through me. I can only wait, pray, and silently beg.
I hear a strangled cough and liquid splashes the ground. Then I hear her wail. A loud, long cry that is the best sound I’ve ever heard in my life.
Each sob of relief is cut short by the pain in my back and chest.
“You’re okay, my love. You’re okay.” He repeats it as though he’s trying to convince himself, as much as comfort her. He sinks to his knees with her pressed against him. Sobs shake them both, and I know they are coming from Liam. “Thank Christ, you’re okay.”
Shock and ice cold rattle my bones. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I should have stopped her.”
He looks down at me, and I see rage. “Why the hell did you let her go down there at high tide?!”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Olive.” I tremble with deep regret and the aftershocks of terror.
Liam turns from me and holds Olive’s face in his big hands. “What were you doing? You could’ve gotten killed, Olive. You could have died just then!”
“I was bringing a message to Mom.” She’s crying so hard that her words aren’t fully formed.
“What?”
“I wanted to let them know we’ll be back at the house for the winter.” She buries her head in his chest and cries. “I’m sorry, Dad. I never meant to fall in.”
“Is this about the damn mermaids, Olive? I never should have—!” He’s holding her upper arms, and his voice has grown to a yell now. “Your mom isn’t a mermaid, Olive! She’s dead! She died and so did the baby.”
“No, she didn’t! She’s here! I know she’s here!” Olive’s body convulses with the force of her sobs.
Liam’s eyes are crazed, and he shakes her once. “Stop it, Olive! Stop it! You’re never going to find her. She’s gone. They’re both gone.”
I watch them, although the world seems to be growing dim, as they both collapse onto each other, clutching and sobbing. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet. “She’s gone, Olive, and trying to find her is only going to kill you.”
Chapter Thirty
Dream as if you’ll live forever. Live as if you’ll die today.
~ James Dean
I’m on my side in a brightly lit hospital room. I’m numb and too hot at the same time. The pain in my back forces me to lie on my side. Every tiny movement of my face feels as though the skin on my left cheek will tear apart. I blink, trying to figure out what’s wrong with me.
A nurse who reminds me of Nettie flicks at the tube at the bottom of a fresh bag of fluids. She glances down at me and smiles. “There you are. Don’t try to move much, okay?”
“Okay,” I say, and the effort of that one word makes my eyes shut. “What’s wrong with me?” I whisper.
“You don’t remember? You’re at Northside General Hospital. Do you know how you got here, Abby?”
“In an ambulance.”
She smiles. “That’s right. You saved that little girl from drowning.”
Tears spring to my eyes. “So she’s okay?”
“She’s fine—mild hypothermia and a few scrapes. They’ve been keeping her toasty warm and monitoring her for a few hours now, but she can go home tonight,” she says, replacing the bag of fluid next to my bed. “I don’t think I could have done what you did. Jumped in there like that during high tide. You must have nerves of steel, like Superman, only prettier.” She glances at my cheek and I see an instant flick of concern before her bright smile returns.
I blow out a puff of air and sniffle. “Am I okay?”
“You will be. But for now, you have a bad concussion, your right arm is broken in two places, and five of your ribs are cracked pretty badly.” She pauses, then looks at my cheek again.
“What?”
“I’m afraid your face was cut pretty bad. But you got lucky because one of the best plastic surgeons in the province happened to be here, so there’s hope that the scar won’t be too bad. He stitched up your back too. You’ve got over a hundred stitches …”
She continues talking but I tune her out, not wanting to know any more.
“… But no matter, you’re alive and that little girl is alive with barely a scratch on her.” She pulls the blankets up to my neck and tucks them around me. “It’s almost time for some more pain medication. I’ll ask the doc if we can give you the good stuff so you can get a big sleep.”
“Thanks,” I say, but she’s already gone.
My right ear is so plugged it throbs. Every cell in my body hurts. Tears roll across my temple and into my hair. I can’t close my eyes because when I do, I see her under the water. I feel her jacket slip through my fingers. I hear the roar of the waves and feel the sharp rock as I’m slammed against it. Even though I know it can’t, I find myself wishing the next set of pain meds will take away those jagged memories.
There is a knock at the door, and Liam comes in with Olive in his arms. She’s dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants that hang off her tiny frame. He swallows when he sees me, and his face screws up with emotion. Olive slides out of his arms and onto my bed.
“Be careful, love.” His voice is gentle now. The fear has passed, and it took the rage with it.
Her little hand brushes the hair out of my face
, and she tucks it behind my ear, just the way her dad does for her. “You’re my hero, Abby.”
I shake my head, feeling fresh tears fill my eyes. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Liam places his hand over mine. “She wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t jumped in after her.”
I shake my head as much as I am able. “She wouldn’t have been down there if it wasn’t for me.”
“Don’t say that.” He gives me a sad smile.
There are not enough days in the year for him to convince me this wasn’t my fault, and at the moment, I don’t have the will to fight him about it. “How did you find us?”
Tears fill his eyes and he looks away for a second, shaking his head. “I just got this terrible feeling, and I started running.”
He pauses and clears his throat, and I know it’s all too fresh to talk about. When he looks back at me, he wipes his cheeks. “I’m so sorry I yelled at you.”
“It’s okay. I’d yell at me too.”
He gives my hand a little squeeze and his face crumples again. “I almost lost you both.”
Olive looks up at her dad. “But you didn’t. We’re here.”
He picks her up and holds her tight to him. “I don’t think I’m going to let you out of my sight for the next ten years.”
She pulls back and smiles at him. “That’s silly. What about when one of us has to poop?”
Liam and I both chuckle, but then I stop, because laughing and broken ribs don’t pair well.
The nurse comes back in and clears her throat in a way that says it’s time for them to leave.
Liam nods at her, then turns back to me. “We’re going to head home, but I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”
“Oh, what about Walt?”
“Nettie already came and got him.”
“Tell her thanks.”
I look at Olive. “If you ever wanted a pony, kiddo, now’s the time to ask your dad for one.”
Relief fills Liam’s eyes. “Thanks for that.”
I try to grin at him, then at Olive. “Get me one too, while you’re at it.”
She lays her head beside mine and grins at me, touching my lips with her little fingers. “What color?”
“You pick.”
“Okay, Olive, we have to go,” Liam says.
“I love you, Abby,” she whispers.
Tears fill my eyes. “I love you, too.”
Liam runs his hand over my upper arm. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Then he picks her up and carries her out of the room.
As soon as they leave, I’m overwhelmed by fear, but not of what we went through today. It’s about what I almost lost and what I still might lose. The thought sends tremors through me because I’ve allowed myself to need them. I can deny it all I want, but I need them. I’ve allowed myself to love. And it could all be taken away in a heartbeat. In any number of ways, I could lose them both. He might not love me back. He might decide he doesn’t want me in their lives anymore, or maybe I’ll be too cowardly to tell him the truth, and eventually, this will all fade away.
Chapter Thirty-One
Every moment of your life is a second chance
~Rick Price
Early the next morning, Dr. McVicar comes by to see me. “How’s my favorite cliff diver?”
I smile weakly and try to sit up, then stop myself when I realize sitting up isn’t in the cards today.
“Oh, you won’t want to do that. I’m afraid you’ll be hurting for a few more days.” She picks up the chart and flips through the pages.
“How long will I be in here?”
“Depends.” She scribbles something and without looking up, asks, “Do you have anyone at home who can care for you?”
“No. I’m alone.”
“In that case, your injuries suddenly look a lot more serious this morning, so we’ll need to keep an eye on you for a few more days.” She gives me a wink, then clicks her pen and replaces the chart to its holder.
“You know, you were very lucky, Abby. Most people would have drowned trying to do what you did. There’s an involuntary gasping reflex in very cold water that causes people to try to breathe air into their lungs. We’ve all been talking about how you’re a bit of a miracle.”
I shake my head. “I’m not a miracle.”
“To that little girl, you are.”
She leaves me with those words ringing in my brain and I find myself completely overwhelmed at the reality of how close Liam came to burying another child. I say a silent prayer, my first since Isaac’s death, thanking God for letting Olive live and for letting me live too.
The day floats by in a numb and lonely haze. I wait for Liam, but he does not come. Dusk falls as I stare out at the early evening sky over the ocean. Something about this time of day makes me melancholy, so I close my eyes and go back to sleep.
When I wake, it’s dark out. Liam is sitting in a chair near the foot of the bed. He gives me a tired smile.
“Hi, have you been here long?”
“About an hour.”
“You should have woke me up.” I lift my head a little off the pillow and try to face him.
“Nah, you needed to sleep, and I needed to think.” Liam stands and moves his chair so he’s sitting beside me now.
“How’s Olive?”
“Shaken up. But otherwise all right. My mother-in-law is with her now, feeding her some soup, and I’m sure as many cookies as she wants.”
“Liam, I’m so sorry—”
“Stop.” His voice is quiet, and he covers my hand with his. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who screwed up. Letting her believe all this malarkey about mermaids and fairies.”
“That’s not true. You’ve given her hope and faith that there’s more to life than what you can see.”
“All I’ve really done is turn her into someone who doesn’t fit into the world around her. The real one.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “She’s got no friends. No mom. Other than you and her grandparents, she’s got no one, really.”
“She’s got you.”
His eyes fill with tears. He nods but there is a look of pain that crosses his face that is undeniable.
“Liam, you’re the best father I’ve met. Olive doesn’t have to wonder for even a second where her next meal is coming from or whether she’s loved. She gets to go on adventures and see things other people only dream of. You’ve created a beautiful life for her.”
“She needs more than just me. I’m—” His eyes take in the gash on my cheek, and he stops.
“You’re what? Not enough? Because if that’s what you were about to say, it’s bullshit.”
“Okay, thank you.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yesterday kind of did me in. And you even more so. You don’t need me going on about all of this right now.”
“Why not? I’m not doing anything at the moment.” I hope my light tone will encourage him to talk, but the bravado thing doesn’t work on him. It never has.
He squeezes my hand. “You should be resting.”
* * *
I lie awake for a long time after he leaves. It’s dark outside, and I watch as the moon inches its way across the window. Tears pour down my cheeks as I finally allow myself to process what almost happened. Olive almost died. So did I. Another few minutes in that water and my parents would be arriving here to pack up my house and fly my body home. And Liam. Liam would be all alone in the world.
I sob at the thought of it. Sob for what we’ve already lost. Sob at the depth of my love for Olive and for Liam both. When I finally stop, I am worn out, but somehow stronger. I know what I must do. I need to take the leap again. I need to tell Liam that I’m in love with him. I am fully aware that it’s quite possibly a knee-jerk reaction to a near-death experience, but there is an undeniable truth that when we are closest to death, we see life most clearly.
My heart pounds at the thought of telling him. If he were here right this moment, I kn
ow I would do it. I only hope my resolve is as strong tomorrow.
* * *
I wake to the sound of a familiar voice. “Abby. Abby, honey, I’m here.”
“Mom?” I open my eyes and let them adjust to the light. There she is. Her hair has been highlighted, and she looks good, younger in spite of the way her face is pinched with concern right now.
“How did you—?”
“Your friend Liam called us. He went through the numbers on your phone and found ours.” She’s tearing up now, and I find myself doing the same. No matter what we’ve been through, no matter how far apart we’ve drifted, she’s still my mom, who loves me and continues to worry about me, even though I’m grown and gone.
She rushes toward me and hugs me carefully. I get countless kisses on the forehead from her. And we both cry and laugh at ourselves for crying. My laughter makes me wince, which makes her wince as though she feels it too. And in a way, maybe she does. Maybe parents always feel the pain of their children.
“Chad found me the first flight here as soon as we heard. Dad wishes he could have come too, but he had to stay back for work, and to look after Grandma.” She runs a hand over my hair, a familiar, comforting gesture to us both. “I can’t believe you did that. Are you okay, honey?”
“I’m all right. Just sore.” I sniff as she dabs my cheeks with a tissue.
Then she holds it over my nose. “Blow.”
“No, that’s okay, I can—”
“Blow.”
So I do. What the hell? She came all this way.
Chapter Thirty-Two
To share your weakness is to make yourself vulnerable; to make yourself vulnerable is to show your strength.
The After Wife Page 25
