by Cara Dee
Could I really turn to Kelly for help?
The thought of leaving this house and spending a whole day in a small cabin where no one interrupted me was extremely appealing.
On the other hand, he'd be there. His son would likely be there, too.
That didn’t sit right with me. I'd impose… No, it was ridiculous. I couldn’t go out there.
One thing was sure, however. I had to do something. I could feel myself getting worse and worse.
*
I took the easy way out for several hours, popping a sleeping pill to make the day go away. I was lost to the world until the sun set, sleeping heavily yet restlessly. Bizarre dreams haunted me, as they tended to do when I took meds to sleep.
Images of two naked bodies flashed before my eyes, and I waded through a moment of confusion before I realized it was Kelly and me. He held me tightly, our legs entwined, my hands in his hair, and we were kissing. I felt myself flushing all over. Needs I'd long since suppressed came roaring back.
It was the sound of a pathetic, desperate whimper that woke me up, and I buried my face in the pillow. The case became wet from my tears as I fruitlessly pleaded for something that wasn’t real.
Eventually, I fell back asleep, and I dreamed of my parents. I was nineteen again, and I stood before them and said I wanted to become a car mechanic. I told them I wanted to take a sabbatical and backpack around the country. I was wearing a tattered band tee and jeans that had seen better days.
My father yelled at me, called me a disgrace, before I woke up again.
Imagine what he'd say if he knew about the other dream.
Blinking blearily, I checked the time and dragged myself up, my feet hitting the floor with a soft thud. I'd slept for too long, and I could sleep for another day or two.
Car mechanic and backpacking. Jesus. Dad would've had a heart attack.
I scratched my jaw, the beard rasping around my fingers. In the last dream, I could've been Kelly. I shook my head. He could've easily announced he was becoming a mechanic. He wore band tees, too.
Outside the bedroom, I heard the floor creaking. Which could only mean one thing. Lissa was hesitating by the door, worrying. Always worrying.
"I'll be right down to eat, Lissa."
*
The guilt hit me at the kitchen table. Lissa's eyes were red from crying, and I couldn’t eat more than a few bites.
This couldn’t continue another goddamn second.
"I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. You didn’t deserve that."
There was so much about this she didn’t deserve. While I wasted away and dreamed of someone else, she was worrying and doing everything she could to make me feel better.
She waved it off, keeping her gaze lowered. "It's fine. I know I fuss too much."
I stared at her, wondering what we'd be doing if I wasn’t fucking everything up. Probably talking about last night. I'd ask how her evening was, and she would laugh about some silly drunk thing she'd done. I'd chuckle and smile at her smile. Maybe we would've retired early and made love for hours.
Instead, I was dragging her down with me.
I frowned at my plate.
A lot was about her. Linked to her, rather. It was whenever she came to my aid I felt weaker. When she was upset, the guilt rolled over me. Her always being nearby left me unsettled. With her, I had to keep pretending. Hiding.
She was doing everything because she loved me. It was out of the goodness of her heart.
I had to get away if I wanted to get better. I needed a place where I wasn’t uncomfortable, where I could be myself, and where I could fight, no matter how ugly it got. No pretenses, no facades.
Of course, my mind went straight to Kelly, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.
We had savings I could dip into without the world coming to an end. Checking in to a hotel or renting my own little place for a month or two might be good for me. The idea had me creating a mental list of things I would pack; there was only one problem.
Discipline. Without motivation or any drive, I had to make myself function. Could I do that? Was I strong enough to take care of myself by force?
I had to try.
Clearing my throat, I set down my fork and lifted my gaze. My stomach twisted. Introducing a change or something new to a depressed person didn’t have the highest rate of success.
"I, uh…I've been thinking, Lissa."
She looked up at me in question.
"I'm not getting any better right now." The admission was like giving myself a kick in the groin, though it was the truth. "I think I have to try something new."
She observed me warily. "Like what?"
"Like being on my own," I murmured. "I feel awful for what I'm putting our family through, and we can argue this endlessly, but that’s not going to change." I could tell she was ready to defend me and my disorder. "I believe I need some time away so I can focus on getting better by my own hand. You taking care of everything—of me—won't get me there. I'll only feel more useless."
"Oh," she mouthed and looked away for a beat. She fidgeted nervously with her hands, and I recognized the signs of her mind spinning. A crease formed between her brows, and she worried her bottom lip. "It hurts to say I understand," she admitted. "But perhaps you're right." Those words made her eyes well up, and she shook her head. "I'm not sure I can, though. I'll worry myself to death wondering how you're faring."
I pressed my lips together, letting her come to the same conclusion I'd come to. It was only a matter of minutes. Sure, I could stay here where she could watch out for me, and then where would I end up?
No one but me could fix what was wrong.
"Would you see your therapist more often?"
I nodded slowly, thinking that was fair. "If it would make you feel better."
I wasn’t thinking very far ahead. Right now, I lived day-to-day. Who knew what six months from now would look like? As it was, I barely saw next week.
"Where would you go?" She brushed a finger under her eye.
I wasn’t sure. "There are a few inns in the Valley. Plenty of vacation homes to rent, too."
"I don’t know, William…" She released a breath. "Everything in me screams not to let you out of my sight, but I see what's so wrong with thinking that way."
I was glad she did. "I want to get better." I rested my arm on the table and covered her hand with mine. "I want to live. If it gets any worse, I promise I will tell you right away. But I have to do this."
She nodded once and smiled tearfully. "Whatever it takes. I'm here for you."
Whatever it takes.
Kelly said the exact same words yesterday.
*
The following day, I had the strongest need to see my children. So once Lissa had gone to work, I threw on a pair of khakis and a long-sleeved T-shirt and drove down to the marina.
Lissa and I agreed not to say anything to Brady and Aurora about my leaving until they were home from camp, which I was more than fine with. The last thing I wanted was to ruin their fun, too.
Starting the engine, I maneuvered the boat out onto open waters where I increased the speed and aimed for Big Chinook. The weather was nice, and it was a perfect day to be on the ocean.
Brady would've told me to go faster. He was at that age where savoring didn’t exist in his vocabulary.
Didn’t take a genius to figure out who'd named my boat Speedy.
I was far from alone in the sound that surrounded the five Chinook islands. Around Little Chinook, children were kayaking and taking Opti lessons. Chances were Brady was there.
Kelly was there, too. Or, I assumed it was him driving the bowrider—a similar model to mine—along the shore of the island where he was the Keeper. I watched as he helped someone out of the water after capsizing.
I slowed down eventually and docked at the main island, ready to find Aurora. With whom I hadn't spoken in days. And I reserved the right to be smug about being correct when I told her she'd have the time of her li
fe and forget about her mother and me.
Fully aware that the counselors frowned upon having parents dropping in whenever—unless it was Visiting Day—I'd been smart for once and brought a bottle of antihistamines. They wouldn’t deny a concerned father bringing his daughter's allergy medication.
*
"Daddy!" Aurora's eyes lit up as she spotted me, and then she was running from her bunkhouse to meet me in the middle of the courtyard. "Oh my God, I was just gonna call you and Mom!"
She jumped into my arms, and I grinned like a fool. A second later, my eyes were burning, though I managed to keep my emotions in check.
"How's my princess?" I released her, only to cup her cheeks and bend down to kiss her on the forehead. "Do you need me to rescue you yet?"
She giggled and smirked sheepishly. "Maybe I'm having fun, after all."
I smiled and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Her skin was tanned, and a few blonder highlights had appeared in her hair. Other than having Lissa's hair color, she—much like Brady—took after me and my mother.
"What're you doing here?" she asked.
"I wanted to see you." I straightened and tucked my shades into my back pocket. "Is your brother around?" I saw a counselor eyeing us from the dining hall, so I brought out the bottle of antihistamines in case I needed the excuse.
"I think he's on Little. It's boring there." Aurora shrugged and squinted into the sun. "Jenna and I are gonna paint on glass. Wanna come and see the craft studio?"
Not particularly. I would've preferred taking a stroll with my girl, but I supposed seeing crafts would suffice. "Of course. Lead the way."
*
I was tired and ready to go home twenty minutes later when Aurora had chatted me up properly about all the fun things they were doing, but I hadn't seen Brady yet.
This time, I didn't speed up the boat to get anywhere quickly. I crossed the narrow sound at a slow rate of knots, focusing on my breathing, and I did my best to shake the melancholy that struck me when hugging Aurora goodbye.
It wasn’t a damn goodbye. I'd see her in three weeks again—possibly even before—and only because I wouldn’t be staying at the house for a while didn’t mean I wouldn’t be there for my children.
A sharp whistle had my head turning toward the little island's bay, and I saw Kelly giving me a two-finger wave. I nodded in return, unsure of whether I wanted to see him or not. I could already acknowledge it was difficult for me to avoid him, which wasn’t safe. What little self-control remained, I needed to cling to, and he had a way of throwing it out the window.
After securing the boat, I walked up the dock with my hands in my pockets. It didn’t take me long to find Brady. He was sitting on a surfboard in the water, and he paddled toward the shore after spotting me.
I slid on my shades and sat down on a flat boulder, away from the camp children milling about.
Brady handed his board to another counselor, then jogged up the rocky hill to me.
"Yo, Dad." He shook his head over me like a dog, sending water drops flying, and I reached out to smack his leg.
"Yo, son," I mocked. Taking in his bright yellow trunks and the whistle around his neck, I wondered if he was on lifeguard duty. "I can wait if you have a shift to finish, buddy. I'm not in a rush."
"Nah, it's fine." He sat down next to me, shielding his eyes from the sun, and smiled. "What brings you by?"
"I wanted to see my rug rats." I bumped his shoulder with mine. "Are you doing all right? I saw your sister. She's having fun."
"She's trouble." Brady widened his eyes. "You know Jessica, who I went to school with. She's her counselor, and she tells me Aurora pulls pranks on the boys. She's got her little cohorts with her, too." He shook his head while I smiled. "So much for being your sweet princess. I honestly thought she was only the devil around me. Gets on my freaking nerves."
"Well, good. If anyone's trouble, it's boys." I nodded, satisfied, and looked out over the bay. "You'll keep an eye on her, though, right?"
"Obviously." He paused and made a face. "Said boys are starting to notice her, if you know what I mean."
I frowned. "She's not even thirteen yet. Put a stop to that, please." There wasn’t much I could do while they were here. I'd have a talk with her soon as she was home.
"What do you want me to do?" He held out his arms. "I'm surrounded by hormones. Should I staple a blanket around her?"
I quirked a brow and smirked wryly. If anyone was hormonal, it was him. The counselors, fresh out of high school or on break from college, spent their time off doing only one thing. Each other. I wasn’t so old that I'd forgotten.
"I'm sure you'll think of something," I said. "Did you do anything fun this weekend?"
He shrugged and scratched his sunburned nose. "I'm getting sick of s'mores and bonfires, but yeah, I guess. Once the kids are asleep, it's chill." He tilted his head at me. "I have a puppy following me now." At my look of confusion, he went on. "Keep's kid." That revelation had me tensing up. "It can't be fun for him on Little, so I told him to join in on the activities and get to know people. He spent the night on Big yesterday, and I don’t know, he just seems to listen to every word I say."
I didn’t know what to do with that information. More control was slipping away from me. Kelly had already told me they were talking, but it was a whole other matter to hear Brady mentioning it. Now it was real.
There was no way our kids spent their time discussing their fathers; no teenager found their parents all that interesting. Yet, even so, a minor slip could mess things up. Something said in passing could raise questions for Brady that I wasn’t ready to answer.
"I hope you're nice to him," I replied eventually.
"I'm a nice fucker," he said frankly.
I forced a chuckle. "Good to know—"
"Hey, there he is." Brady pointed toward the beach farther away, past the little bay. "Yo, Matt!"
I did a double take at Brady. Why on earth was he calling the boy over?
Matt turned this way and held up his hand in the sun.
"Get over here!" Brady called.
It was a scrawny kid who jumped from rock to rock to get here. It was Kelly from my childhood, before he'd made our sports teams in school. I steeled myself for the meeting.
"Hey." Matt offered an awkward wave when he was almost here.
"What's up? Formal introductions. This is my old man—William Calvert," Brady said with a grin. "Dad, Matthew Oakley."
Here we go. I put on my best, polite Dad tone. "Nice to meet you, Matthew."
He extended his hand, and I shook it firmly. "You too, Mr. Calvert."
"William's fine," I said.
He smiled nervously and sat down next to Brady.
He looked so much like his father that it was impossible to have any ill feelings. He only posed a threat to expose anything because I was a coward. That was on me, not him. I was sure Matthew was a good kid. After all, I knew his father.
It would do me good to offer some damn honesty for once. Baby steps.
"You take after your dad." I managed a smile, a knot forming in my gut.
Brady swung his gaze between us, and Matthew perked up, curious.
"We went to school together," I explained.
The boys exchanged a glance, and though I was anxious about the whole ordeal, it felt nice to have that tidbit established. I had gone to school with Kelly. I'd shared something that was truthful.
"Keep told me," Brady answered with a nod. "I guess you were close…?"
Well, hell. What else had Kelly revealed? Now it became too uncomfortable.
Coward.
"Sure, yes, we were friends." I didn’t know if I was saying the right things. My son knew I'd met Kelly—the day Brady told me to go get the Keep for him. "He moved away for college, so it was just the other week I saw him again."
There. Was that okay? Did that sound plausible?
Chapter 8
Kelly Oakley
I was glad to see I woul
dn’t have to send in a search and rescue team to track down Will after Saturday. I hung back in the distance for as long as I could, and then I began making my way toward him, Brady, and Matt.
It'd taken all my efforts yesterday to keep from calling Will, wanting to check in and make sure he was okay. Guilt had crawled into my marrow and taken up permanent residence, and I couldn’t fucking forget how shattered he'd looked.
One hand down a pocket of my cargo shorts, I trailed up the smooth rocks and rubbed a kink out of my left shoulder. Pulling kids out of the water all morning was making me rethink not stretching before work.
Will spotted me first, and judging by his guarded expression, I had half a mind to text him and promise I wasn’t going to say anything stupid. Then I thought fuck it, because he'd find out for himself.
"Hey, kids." I jerked my chin and stopped in front of them. "You sittin' around being lazy?"
"I'm not a kid," Matt grumbled.
"Of course you are. You're my baby," I chuckled. "But I was speaking to Will, mostly."
"I'm honored," Will responded.
Brady smirked and checked his expensive looking sports watch. "I should probably get back. No one's drowned on me yet."
"Please keep it that way," Will told him. "Parents tend to be attached to their children."
Brady laughed, promising he'd do his best, and I stole the spot he vacated. He left with a little salute, and Matt leaned his head on my shoulder. It was a rare moment, 'cause sixteen-year-old boys weren't generally affectionate in public.
"Tired, buddy?" I kissed the top of his head.
"I miss Wi-Fi," he mumbled. "I'm counting down the days 'til we move."
I chuckled and tilted my head at Will instead, nudging my shoulder with his. "All good?"
He inclined his head, something that looked too practiced. An automatic reaction.
I wasn’t expecting an honest answer with Matt around, so I pulled out my phone and switched on the internet. "I have some data left. Go nuts." I handed the phone to my boy, who lit up at the prospect of checking his social media. "You can put the steaks in marinade while you do your Facebook thing."
