by Elle Viviani
I grab my beer and take a long, unladylike gulp before returning it to its coaster. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
24
Koa
I shift the bouquet from my right hand to my left and knock on the bright yellow door I know so well. I had stood in the florist section of the grocery store for a good half hour agonizing over which bunch of flowers to get. In the end, I went with the largest.
Go big or go home when you’re meeting your girlfriend’s parents for the first time.
The door springs back. “Koa! Glad you could join us tonight.” Captain spots the bouquet of God-knows-what in my hands. “Are those for Jane?”
I shake my head as I step into the foyer. I hear faint chatter coming from the kitchen. “They’re for Summer’s parents. I, uh, wanted to welcome them to Portland.”
He grunts. “Good. We need it.” He motions me down the hall. “Poor Portland always gets a beating when my daughter visits—” He stops as Summer pops her head out the kitchen door and into the hall. The rest of her body follows soon after. “Summer, everything alright?”
Her eyes lock on me. “I just need to talk to Koa real quick.”
“Oh, okay.” He glances between us. “Well, I’ll just go entertain our guests, shall I?” He sets his jaw, throws his shoulders back, and heads to the kitchen.
I turn to Summer once he’s rounded the corner. “Why do I feel like I’ve just entered a battle zone?”
Summer sighs. “Welcome to a family visit.”
I frown at the worry lines peppering her face. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be alright. They’re just your parents.”
She laughs. “I know. I’d gotten used to how laid-back everything and everyone is here. They just caught me off guard, that’s all. It’s…an adjustment.”
I reach around and rub her back, my palm kneading large, slow circles across her tense muscles. “I’m here now. Consider me your reinforcement.”
“Thanks, I—” She spots the flowers. “Are those for my parents?”
“Um, yes.” I glance at her. “Is that okay?”
“It’s perfect. They’re beautiful.”
“Good, because they cost a pretty penny.”
I get a flash of her old smile as she bats me on the shoulder. “Come on, lover boy. Let’s go meet the Raes.”
Four pairs of eyes turn in our direction as we enter the kitchen. Two I recognize, and two I don’t.
Summer motions to me. “Mom, Dad? This is Koa Rendell. Koa, these are my parents, Charlene and Tom.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” I say, stepping forward to offer my hand to Tom. I take his smooth palm with my rough fingers in a firm handshake. I turn to Charlene and offer her the bouquet. “And these are for you, ma’am.”
She accepts it after a quick glance at her husband. “Why, thank you…Koa.” She turns to Summer. “And how do you know each other?”
“Oh, well, Koa’s my…my captain.”
“Your what?”
“I work with him.” Summer clears her throat. “On Gramps’s flagship.”
I wait for her to go on, to add that we’re also going out, but she stays quiet.
“A captain,” Tom says, giving me a once-over.
“Youngest captain in Portland with a fleet this size,” Captain adds, clapping me on the back. “He’s done a bang-up job leading the season, too.”
Tom nods. “Impressive.”
“Thank you, but I'm no surgeon.”
Tom looks at his daughter. “Been talking about your family at work, I see?”
“Oh, you know…just the usual.”
I turn to her with a questioning look. “Aren’t you forgetting something, Summer?”
“Oh, right.” She swallows and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Koa’s also my—” Summer steals a look at me “—friend.”
Every muscle in my body tenses. “What?”
“I see,” Charlene says slowly, frowning. “How friendly?”
“How about I put those in water?” Summer says quickly, her cheeks turning pink as she reaches for her mother’s bouquet. “I’ll just, uh, go—”
She books it over to the sink and starts rooting around the cabinets for a vase. I stare at her back, numb and unmoving, as the reality of that introduction hits me. My girlfriend doesn’t think we’re official. Which means…
She’s not my girlfriend.
I feel eyes on me. I turn back to my not-girlfriend’s parents to find Charlene studying me over the rim of her wine glass. “Do you normally join the Boothes for dinner, Koa?”
Jane answers before I do. “Koa’s family, Charlene. He has an open invitation to dinner every night, but we only get to enjoy his company once a week.”
I smile at her. “Don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“You’d never do that, dear.”
Charlene’s lips stretch tight over her teeth. “And you work with my daughter every day?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Alone?”
“At the moment, yes.”
“On a boat?”
“That’s right.”
“In the middle of the ocean?”
“Um—”
“Good Lord,” Captain cries, “what do you expect a fisherman to do? Catch lobsters in a forest?”
Charlene scowls at her father. “I was just wondering how much time my daughter’s spending out on the water.” She glances at me. “Alone.”
Summer sighs next to me. “Mom…”
“What?!” she says, looking at her daughter. “You were supposed to be helping your grandparents and studying and—”
“And she is helping,” Jane interrupts. “Summer’s doing a lot more good out on that boat than holed up with us at home.”
“If you say so,” Charlene mutters.
“I do,” Jane says, giving her daughter a warning look. “Koa stepped up to the plate after your father broke his arm. We’d be lost without him.”
My ears grow pink. “I wouldn’t have left you out to dry, Grandma Jane.”
Charlene’s eyes go wide. “Grandma Jane?”
“Koa’s part of the family, remember?” Summer pipes up. I meet her eyes briefly before turning away. Suddenly she’s sticking up for me? Or is that what “friends” do?
I turn back to her parents, who seem to be having a silent conversation of their own. Based on the worried looks on their faces, I’m guessing it’s about me and their daughter.
“Time to eat!” Captain announces, putting an end to the tense silence. I wait for everyone to be seated before settling in myself. I’m not happy to find that the only empty seat is next to Summer.
I stay quiet for most of dinner, keenly aware that the dynamic is a far cry from the laid-back dinners I come to every week. There’s a layer of tension hovering above the polite conversation; unspoken, but there all the same.
At first, the Raes seemed like your average parents who care a lot about their daughter. Monied, for sure, and maybe a little stand-offish to strangers, but I expected nothing different based on what Summer’s told me. But as I watch Summer keep a strained smile plastered to her face and answer every question in an overly enthusiastic voice, I wonder if first impressions are misleading.
Tom heaps a spoonful of green beans onto his plate and turns to his daughter. “I’m concerned about your studies.”
“Why? I’ve been getting through my practice books.”
“But all this time out on the boat—” Tom twists his lips “—fishing. It sounds like a distraction.”
“I’m still able to study, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“But not as you should.”
“This isn’t brain surgery, Dad. This is the Praxis. I’ll be fine.”
Tom raises his eyebrows. “You shouldn’t settle for fine, Summer. You should strive for nothing short of excellence.”
Summer wilts next to me. I fix my stare on my plate and keep quiet.
“So,
are you going to be prepared in a few weeks for your exams?”
“Yes, Dad,” Summer mumbles.
“Good.” He picks up his fork and spears a red-skinned potato. “If you’re going to be a teacher, then I want you to be the best teacher.”
Summer’s fork squeaks as it pushes a piece of her fish across her plate. “I’ll try…”
Charlene leans forward to grab her wine glass. “Well, my dear, I’m sorry to say that you’ve missed more than a few excellent dinner parties this summer.”
Summer tenses. “I’m sure they were wonderful, as always.”
“They were, they really were.”
“Great turnout this year,” Tom adds. “Even with everyone fleeing the city for the beach.”
“We had lots of familiar faces, but a few new ones as well.” She takes a sip and sets her glass down. “Oh! And you’re never going to guess who was over for dinner last week.”
“Who?” Summer asks politely.
“Jeremy Whitehall!”
“I’m sorry?”
“Kathy’s boy?”
Summer’s hands begin to fidget in her lap. “Still doesn’t ring a bell.”
“You must remember. You two were inseparable in grade school.”
“That was a long time ago, Mom.” Summer glances at me. “I’m sure he’s forgotten all about me.”
Charlene flashes her teeth. “Actually, he hasn’t, and he’s quite keen to meet you.”
“What? Mom!”
“I’ve set something up for you in—”
Jane gives a cry as her water glass goes tumbling across her plate. “Oh my goodness, look at that!” She starts moving plates and dishes out of the puddle gathering on the table. “I’m so clumsy.”
Charlene lets out a sigh and begins to dab the tablecloth with her napkin. “Here, Mother, let me.”
Jane gives Summer a look and nods toward the kitchen. Summer frowns for a second, then breaks out into a smile. She pushes back from the table and heads for the kitchen. “I’ll go grab you another napkin, Gran.”
“Koa,” Tom says as Summer disappears, “what are the hours like in your line of work?”
“Not bad, if you’re an early riser.”
“I assume you’re out at dawn?”
I nod. “And then we head in once our rounds are complete. That can take all day or just the morning.”
“Interesting…interesting. So is it hard to be a lobster fisherman?”
“Hard?” Captain stares at him. “It’s exhausting!”
“My apologies. I just don’t know anything about the field.”
“It’s competitive,” Jane says. “Koa had to apprentice with Gerry before qualifying for his license, and even then, he was on the waiting list for years before a spot opened up.”
Captain nods. “They keep a tight lid on who gets access to Maine’s $300 million lobster fishery.”
“Three hundred million dollars?” Tom blinks at me. “Do you make a lot, then?”
“Tom,” Charlene scolds softly, but I can tell she’s interested in my answer.
“No, it’s okay,” I say quickly. Better meet this head-on with the truth. “We can make a thousand dollars in one day or nothing. It changes based on the haul and the current lobster prices. Plus, there are always expenses like repairs and gas.”
Or replacing equipment your first mate threw over the side.
“So it’s similar to the stock market,” Tom says.
“Uh, sure. Like that,” I lie. I can’t see the connection.
“Well, I can respect that, but it must be tough out on the water all day. What hard labor.”
Captain shifts in his chair. “Not all of us are meant for offices, Tom.”
“Of course, of course. Koa and I both work with our hands, so I understand.”
I stare at him. I’d love to see this Park Avenue prince heaving a dozen or so pots onto the deck in 30 mph winds.
“Why don't we have dessert out on the back porch?” Jane suggests, pushing her plate away and standing up. “I’ll clean up while you—”
A general outcry meets this suggestion, led mainly by Captain and me. “Why don’t I clean up?” Captain suggests, struggling up from his chair.
Jane scowls at her husband. “With that arm? You’d break everything!”
“I’ll just go slowly—”
My chair scrapes the wood floor as I stand up. “I’d be happy to clean up.”
“Really, son?”
Summer reappears, coming through the door to the kitchen with a relieved look on her face. “I can help.” A quick glance at her empty hands tells me the napkin’s been long forgotten.
“I’ll be fine,” I snap, avoiding her eyes. I have a lot of things to say to her, but not tonight. Not with her parents a few rooms away.
“But I want to help.”
And I don’t want it.
I start stacking the plates on top of each other for something to do. “Go relax. Enjoy having your parents here.”
Charlene smiles. “That sounds lovely, Koa, thank you.” She turns to her daughter. “Why don’t you help me serve dessert?”
Summer’s forehead wrinkles. “Um, okay…”
I keep my eyes down and on my task as everyone heads to the kitchen. The low murmur of voices reaches me as they help themselves to pie and ice cream, the added clink of glassware telling me that everyone’s topping off their wine glasses, too.
The back door slams a few minutes later. I grab the pile of dishes I’ve collected and head for the kitchen. I’m glad for the peace and quiet because I’ve got a lot on my mind.
I pause in the entryway as voices reach my ears. So I’m not alone. Two people stayed behind while the others went out back, and based on the strained conversation, I can tell it’s Summer and her mother.
“…just seem very close with him.”
“Of course we’re close. We’re friends and we work together.”
I hear the sloshing sound of wine being poured into a glass. “Is he a good choice of friend?”
“I’m not twelve, Mom. I can chose who I hang out with.”
“I know, I know. But a fisherman? I mean, did you see that beard?”
I touch my face, my fingers grazing the skin on my chin for the first time in years. I’d trimmed my beard down to stubble for this dinner, hoping to make a good impression. Seems that’s impossible with this woman.
“…hardworking and honest man, Mom. And he was in the military.”
“Really?”
“The Navy for five years.”
“Well, still. I’m sure you’ll be relieved to come home in a few weeks.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll be back in the city with all your friends and everything you know! Portland’s no place for you, my dear.”
Summer’s reply is so low that I barely hear it. “But I like it here.”
“I know you’ll miss your grandparents, but you have a busy fall. You’ll get back in the swing of things soon enough. Which reminds me, will you start teaching right away?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I’ll just be sure to schedule my dinner parties on the weekend, then.”
“I, uh, wanted to talk to you about those…”
I perk up. Finally Summer is going to tell her Mom about us.
“Dear?”
“What if I didn’t want to attend anymore?”
“You must be joking.”
“Maybe I’m serious.”
Charlene sighs. “I have a string of dates lined up for you. I can’t just cancel them. Think of the impression you’ll make!”
“But—”
“You promised me, Summer.”
I frown. Promised her?
“I know,” Summer mutters.
“Come on, pumpkin, cheer up.” I hear a glass scrape on the marble countertop. “Grab a slice of pie and join us out back. I swear you’ve been up here too long. You’ve forgotten what civilized company looks like!”
&nbs
p; I stand there for a second after the screen door slams, overloaded with feelings and pain and frustration, before giving myself a hard shake. Summer’s picking up her plate off the counter when I come barreling through the door. I drop the dishes into the sink with a loud clatter. A few might have broken, but I don’t give a shit.
“Koa! How long were you…”
I whirl around and glare into her wide eyes. “Does it matter?”
“Oh my God.” Her hand flies to her mouth. “I’m so sorry!”
I brush past her and head down the hall. Footsteps sound behind me as I wrench open the front door and step out into the warm night air.
“Koa! Wait—”
I slam the door shut behind me, severing her plea and my connection to her. I’m left alone with my anger and pain as a thousand cicadas rise in song around me. And that’s fine with me. Right now, I want to be alone.
25
Summer
I throw off my comforter, turn over, and glare at my alarm clock. This has been the longest night of my life. The minute Koa stormed out the door and drove out of sight, I knew I wasn't getting any sleep tonight. I wanted to run after him, take his hand and hold him close while I begged him to stay.
But that never happened. I never moved. Instead, I stood there and watched the man I care about fade away.
I grab the sheets and pull them over my head, trying to block out the thoughts crowding my mind. It’s no use, my mind won’t quit, and I’m dragged once again back to the conversation that started it all.
My Mom’s hints that Koa and I are a little too close…
Her reminder that my time in Maine is coming to a close…
And what lays in store for me when I get back to New York.
Was it her tone or years of conditioning that made me clam up? Or was I just a wimp of the lowest kind?
Both. And I’m willing to bet money that I’m the only twenty-four-year-old woman in New York City who still lets her mommy boss her around.
God, I’m a mess.
I cast off the covers and sit up in bed. You know what? I’m done wallowing in endless self-pity. I’m over watching life pass me by, always on the sidelines and never in the action. It’s time I stopped doing what I’m told and started taking what I want.
