Recovery Journal: Day Three
I know, I know. I said I wouldn’t do this.
But what else am I going to do? Have you actually ever watched daytime TV?
It’s shit.
Especially in a hospital that only provides a handful of channels.
My family went back home. Honestly, I’m glad for it. None of them know what to say.
And their eyes.
It’s a constant game of Let’s Avoid Dean’s Stump!
My mom is the worst. Her gaze will start to drift, tears will start to rim her eyes, and her lips will quiver as a wave of guilt washes over her before she suddenly jerks away.
Ten minutes later, it all starts again.
And then there are the hushed conversations. The ones with the doctors outside my room, which I’m supposed to pretend I can’t hear, when they talk about my mental health and well-being and what is and is not perfectly normal for an amputee like me.
Amputee.
The word feels vile against my tongue.
The shrink says I should talk about it.
I told him to go fuck off.
In a private conversation, he told my mother it was all part of the process for me to lash out.
Oh, good. I was worried.
The overly talkative shrink also said it would be therapeutic—his word, not mine—for me to record memories from the night of the accident in this stupid book.
He said I might not always remember them as vividly as I do now.
Seriously, who is this guy?
I might not remember?
Ask anyone who was at Ground Zero what the air smelled like, and I bet, with how hard it was to breathe as ash fell from the sky, they could still describe it years later.
In vivid detail.
I wasn’t going to forget the night I nearly lost my life.
I wasn’t going to forget the bloodcurdling screams as cars exploded and debris went flying.
Or how my best friend, a man I hadn’t seen in years, went into life-saving mode like one of those real-life heroes you read about in the papers, shouting orders while making tourniquets out of his own damn clothing.
While I sat there, in a state of shock, staring out onto the water that had been a best friend to me longer than any person on the planet. And I felt betrayed. I’d taken my first steps along the shore of the Atlantic. I’d learned to steer a boat before I could even ride a tricycle.
I wanted to stand up and scream out into that black water and ask it, Why? Why me? We were buddies. We understood each other.
And that was when the piece of debris sliced through my arm, and my life ended.
Or at least, it should have.
That night, I dreamed of the ocean—before it was the enemy.
Before it had taken away my life and everything I had to look forward to.
I dreamed I was on a boat, chasing the sunrise, both hands on the wheel, as my heart soared with such a happiness locked inside it, I thought I might explode.
And then I awoke, trembling and covered in sweat.
In that split second, when dream and reality still blurred in the twilight of morning, I felt it. Reaching up, I touched the place where my arm had once been, hoping, just hoping, that this one time, my dream might be reality.
But dreams were for suckers and small children.
And I was neither.
Rubbing the tender skin right around where the piece of debris had sliced through my arm, I tried to will away the pain and ache of the dream.
Phantom pain. That was what the doctors had called it. It was when a person still felt pain in an extremity they no longer possessed, like the body was mourning the idea long after the brain registered the information. Or maybe it was the other way around.
It really didn’t matter what they called it. It sucked all the same. Because, as much as I tried to move on and forget, my body couldn’t. Every morning, it’d reach out for that missing arm, and when it couldn’t find it, it’d cry out in agony.
And I’d be dragged back to the past. Haunted by the events of a singular night.
Scrubbing a hand over my unshaven face, I took a deep breath and got out of bed. Looking over at the clock, I shook my head at the time.
Shit, I need to get going.
Racing to the bathroom, I took a quick shower and got dressed. Flopping down on the bed, I slid on my shoes and headed for the kitchen.
I was in desperate need of coffee.
Checking the clock once more, I let out a huff of air as my indecision ping-ponged around in my mind. Risk being late for a cup of coffee or arrive early but severely irritable?
Coffee wins.
Wishing I’d taken Molly up on her numerous offers to purchase me one of those fancy coffee machines that used the pods, I started the process of scooping out the coffee and filling the water. I could hear her voice in my head.
“It’s no big deal, Dean. I’ll pick it up when I’m up the coast, getting supplies, the next time. Hell, I can even write it off as a business expense.”
But it was a big deal.
At least, it was to me. I didn’t need her favors. If I wanted a fancy-ass coffeemaker I’d go get one on my own.
Eventually.
While the coffee was percolating, I made sure my travel mug was ready to go and walked around the living room, picking up the journals I’d left out. My prosthetic arm was still on the floor, in the same place it had been left the night before, and I knew I needed to put it on.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long at all, and by the time I was done, so was my blessed coffee. Pouring it straight into my mug, I didn’t bother with cream or sugar and instead took as many sips as I could without burning my tongue as I headed to the front.
Stepping outside into the sweltering August heat, I thought briefly about walking to the clinic, but as beads of sweat began to quickly form around my temples, I quickly headed toward my truck, choosing air-conditioning over exercise for the time being. I’d get my workout in some other time.
Preferably indoors or after the sun began to set.
Growing up here, I didn’t mind the heat too much, but this August was a killer. With record-breaking heat and very little rain, the island felt like it was on fire the minute the sun rose from the horizon, and nighttime didn’t offer much comfort either.
Opening the door to my pickup, I slid in and didn’t waste much time in revving the engine to life. With one hand on the wheel, I began my short journey to the other side of the island.
The frigid air I’d cranked up to maximum capacity barely began to push through the vents by the time I pulled up to the small parking lot of the Ocracoke Medical Clinic. With only a handful of cars in the lot, I had no issues with parking my large truck and quickly made my way in.
A tiny bell chimed the moment the door was pushed open, announcing my arrival. Just two people sat in the small waiting room, and both waved me over.
“Dean Sutherland, is that you?” a tiny old woman called out from behind her magazine.
Her silver hair and blue eyes were familiar, but that described about a dozen of my mother’s friends. Nevertheless, I did as I had been told and came forward.
“Come sit down with me and chat. God knows, I could use the company!”
Upon further examination, I recognized her wrinkled face as one of the women my mother played cards with. She was sitting next to her husband, who was fiddling around on an old iPhone, probably playing solitaire, as I took a seat next to his wife. She smelled like talc and cold cream. It was a comforting smell, soft and sweet.
“How are you, Mrs. Joyner?” I asked, putting my best manners on display. If I hadn’t, I’d never hear the end of it from my mother.
Did that mean I was scared of my old-fashioned Southern mother?
Yes. Yes, it did.
That woman could be as sweet as honey, but if you crossed her? Lord, you’d better run. Fast.
“Oh, fine,” she said. “Well, as fine as an old broad like me can be. Dr. Jake does a good job at keeping this old heart ticking.”
“He’s always been pretty good at keeping women’s hearts fluttering.”
Old man Joyner let out a sort of chuckle at those words, earning him a deadly glance from his wife before they both grinned from ear to ear. It was endearing, to say the least.
Looking up at the front desk, I couldn’t help but notice how disorganized it appeared. Jake didn’t have the cash to hire a full-time person to man the desk, so his nurse had always done both jobs.
“He still hasn’t found a replacement for Betty?”
Mrs. Joyner’s eyes lit up as they met mine. “Oh, my dear, didn’t you hear? She arrived yesterday.”
“Who did?” I asked, completely confused.
“The new nurse.”
“There’s a new nurse?” I found myself saying more out of shock than anything else. Wasn’t I the best friend to the island’s only doctor? If he’d hired someone, shouldn’t I have known about it?
“Yes. Pretty young thing. Dingbatter, too.”
Dingbatter was an old-school term used when referring to anyone who wasn’t native to the island. How did you define who was native to the island and who wasn’t? Well, that was an entirely separate topic. Some islanders believed you weren’t truly native unless you could trace your family back generations. Others believed you had to be born here.
Like I said, it was a hot button issue.
“Jake hired a nurse? From the mainland? Do you know her name? Why didn’t he tell me?”
I thought Mrs. Joyner must have taken pity on me in my bewildered state. Her face turned round and warm, like that of a parent comforting a young child. But, before she had time to answer all my questions, the door to the exam room opened, and my questions were answered with a single, glance.
“Cora?”
I’d like to say the woman who had nursed me back to health after my accident looked up at me and fireworks exploded as our eyes met, like they did in the sappy rom-coms Molly always made me watch. But, instead, the second recognition passed across her face, I saw something closer to horror.
Or maybe it was awkwardness because that was exactly the emotion that was coursing through my veins. That, and extreme confusion. Cora Ashcroft had been there for me in a time of my life when I needed someone most.
She was the stranger I’d clung to when my family was hours away. She was the bright light I’d turned to when all I saw was darkness. And she was the woman I’d thought could be so much more…
That awkwardness in her eyes only doubled when she glanced down at the schedule she was holding and called out my name.
“Um, Dean?” she said, her voice lacking the confidence and bounce I remembered. “I guess you’re next.”
I placed a finger to my chest, pointing to myself like a goddamn idiot. “Me?”
She nodded, her eyebrows lifting in amusement. There was a total of three people in the small waiting room. Of course she meant me. Less than sixty seconds since this woman had crash-landed back in my life, and I was already acting like a moron.
Again.
No wonder she looked less than pleased to see me.
Rising to my feet, I walked the short distance to the door that led to the back of the clinic. With only two exam rooms and a small lab, there wasn’t much to it, but I slowed to a halt and let her lead me in. She grabbed my chart from a stack on the nurses’ counter, which Jake had no doubt pulled that morning, and placed it underneath her arm. As I averted my gaze, we started down the hall for the farthest room in the back of the building. As I followed her, I took a moment to reacquaint myself with the nurse who’d nearly stolen my heart.
To an unfamiliar eye, she looked the same. Her hair, although a bit shorter, was still the same deep shade of auburn. Under the harsh fluorescent lights of the clinic, the long, flowing locks appeared to be an ordinary shade of brown, but every time we passed a window and the light hit, a few strands would glisten a gorgeous mahogany red. Try as I might not to look, her body hadn’t changed a bit either. Even dressed in plain-colored scrubs, I could see the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts as she turned the corner into the exam room.
But, looking past all that, the beautiful hair and the gorgeous body, something was missing.
And I couldn’t quite put my finger on it yet.
As she set my chart down on the counter, I took a seat, forgoing the exam table for one of the chairs instead.
Cora’s dark brown eyes met mine before settling back on my chart. Her posture was rigid, nothing like the laid-back nurse who used to come in and visit with me on her lunch break just because she knew I might be lonely.
“So, uh…what is the nature of your visit today?” she asked, swallowing deeply before looking up at me once more.
I heard Jake’s deep voice in the hallway as he said his good-byes to a patient. Laughter broke out between them as the silence grew between Cora and me.
“Checkup,” I finally answered, distracted by the commotion in the hallway. “Just my annual checkup.”
“Right, okay. Then, I guess I should have gotten your weight,” she said, clearly flustered. She frantically tapped her pen against the paper chart as the ruckus outside finally dissipated. “The scale is back at the nurses’ station. I can just—”
“Why are you here?” I asked rather bluntly, causing her mouth to nearly fall to the floor. “I’m a solid two twenty, by the way. No need for the scale.”
No longer hunched over my chart, she stood upright, staring at me with shock written on her face. “I just moved here.”
“But why?” I pressed.
“Why not? You always said you loved growing up here—when you were…I mean, I think I remember something about you saying you liked it. So, when I was looking at different places in the South, I thought I’d give it a try.” She shrugged, firmly crossing her arms over her chest.
At least she remembered me.
I snorted, “Your husband agreed to that? People down here don’t have much need for high-priced lawyers.”
Her eyes shifted to the side, focusing on a photo on the wall—something a local photographer had taken of wild ponies at sunset. “He and I aren’t… we’re not together anymore.”
“You’re divorced?” I said, my eyes homing in on her left hand and then up to her neck. Sure enough, that gigantic ring that had always swung from a chain around her neck—probably to keep the planet sized diamond from cutting a hole through her sterile gloves, the one I somehow managed to miss every time she came into my room all those years ago, was indeed missing.
She nodded, confirming my question. “It was final just last month. We’d been separated for over a year though.”
Something akin to hope blossomed in my belly as I looked up at her, the tenderhearted woman who’d been there for me in a time of my life I’d rather forget. The bouncy ball of fire who read to patients when they were too weak to do so themselves and always brought a smile to my face.
But that girl wasn’t here.
And the guy she’d known in that hospital room? The one who’d still had hope of returning home like nothing had happened?
He was long gone as well.
Instead, I was sitting in a room with a perfect stranger, wondering what to say next and just how exactly I was going to kill my best friend for forgetting this bit of information in our weekly beer nights. Jake knew what a fool I’d made of myself in that hospital, convinced that I was in love with Cora when, in reality, I was just reaching out for someone.
Anyone.
Yet…
Yet she was here. Standing in front of me.
How was that for fate?
“So,” she finally said, “how have you been?”
“Good,” I immediately answered, almost like a knee-jerk reaction. Realizing she was probably expecting more than a one-worded response, I tried to dig deep and find something else inside my muddled brain. “Everything healed up nicely,” I replied, holding my arm up as proof. “The town hooked me up with this replacement, which keeps the stares down to a minimum. Except for the kids,” I added. “The kids always notice.”
“They’re shorter,” she said, reaching her hand out in front of her, about waist-high. “They tend to notice things we don’t.”
My eyes narrowed, recalling that moment in the hospital when I’d finally gotten the courage to ask her out and she’d refused, explaining two very important reasons.
The husband and the—
“How is your daughter?” I asked, remembering her name but not wanting to seem overly attached to our brief acquaintance so long ago. Because I had been attached.
Maybe I still am…
“Good,” she replied, mirroring my answer moments earlier. Realizing she’d done so, she smiled and continued on, “She’s starting kindergarten next month.”
“Here? In Ocracoke?” I asked, still unconvinced she was in fact moving here permanently. It wasn’t exactly the top destination for relocations. We were small and remote, and did I mention that the only way in and out was by ferryboat?
“Yes. Is it bad?” she asked, her expression showing the concern of a mother. “The school, I mean. When Jake offered me the position, I took it without much thought. I remember you gushing about how peaceful and quiet Ocracoke was, and I needed a new start for Lizzie and me. I didn’t really think about the school system at all.” She paused for a moment before glancing up at me. “God, you must think I’m a terrible mother.”
Leaning forward, my elbows on my knees, I looked up at her grinning. “I don’t, Cora. Really, I don’t. Although,” I said, leaning back, “I’m kind of iffy on your nursing skills at the moment, seeing as we’ve been in this exam room for nearly fifteen minutes and you haven’t even taken my blood pressure. But I’m pretty confident you’re a good mom.”
She gawked at me, her mouth slack, as she searched for words. Honestly, I was a little surprised, too, by my ability to string so many words together in her presence.
“And the school is good, by the way. It produced Jake and me, so it can’t be half bad. Well, I guess, Jake turned out pretty good at least.” I grinned.
“Good,” she replied, using our favorite word of the day. “That’s good. Thank you for that. My conscience is eased a bit, knowing she’s in at least capable hands.” Looking down at my chart again, she took a deep breath before speaking, “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Confused, I watched her walk toward the door. “Wait, where are you going?” I asked.
“To get your chart. I’ve been holding Mrs. Joyner’s for the last fifteen minutes, and I was too embarrassed to say anything.”
I bit my lip, trying not to chuckle, but the moment I saw a smile tug at the corner of her pretty pink lips, I couldn’t help myself. Deep laughter sprang free as she opened the door, leaving me behind in search of my actual file.
In that moment, I finally felt like I’d found the dark-haired nurse who’d turned me down in that lonely hospital room. And, if she was in fact in there somewhere, hidden behind the baggage life had thrown on her over the last three years, I might be well and rightfully screwed.
Because I could fall for her all over again.
And, this time, there would be no husband or injury to blame. My whole body was screaming to turn and run, to flee, before any other part of me was lost to pain and ruin.
But, instead, I sat, firmly planted in that rickety old seat, and waited for her to return.
“What is this I hear of you harassing my new nurse?” Jake said, charging into the exam room with no warning.
I’d been sitting in here for nearly ten minutes, wondering if I’d been forgotten or simply left for dead.
“What is this I hear of you hiring a new nurse without telling me? Especially when it happens to be someone I know? Someone I used to know…well?” The last part was said in a hushed tone with a look that said I meant business.
Taking a seat on the exam table, Jake placed my chart—the correct one, I assumed—next to him and faced me as a friend rather than a doctor. Being friends with him so long, I’d now learned the difference between the two sides of him, and this was definitely Jake the friend.
“I’m sorry, Dean,” he began. “I meant to; I really did. You know I’ve been desperate for someone for months since Betty left. And it’s not easy, finding a nurse who will willingly work down here. Part-time? Maybe. But full-time?” He made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat. “I had a nurse on the mainland, offering to ferry in every day. But she would need to drive two hours each way and requested a substantial increase in pay to cover it. You know I don’t have that. The clinic barely stays afloat as it is.”
I nodded, knowing how much blood, sweat, and tears he’d put into this place since taking over after his father’s death.
“So, when I got a résumé for a competent nurse with a familiar name to boot, I jumped at the chance before she could change her mind. Cora was willing to start as soon as possible, and things just kind of happened after that. I’ve been in a whirlwind ever since, trying to make sure everything was in place for her arrival.”
I held up my hand, ignoring the automatic knee-jerk reaction of his eyes as they darted toward the other lying in my lap. It was the briefest of glances, but even he couldn’t help but look.
“I get it; I do. Just a little heads-up would have been nice. You know, so I could have avoided making a world-class idiot of myself again.”
He grinned, picking up my chart as he hopped off the table. “Wouldn’t have helped in the least. You, my friend, would have done that on your own regardless of my interference. Now, let’s play doctor, shall we? I have other patients today, you know.”
Shaking my head, I stood up and hoisted myself up on the exam table, “I hate you,” I said, making his grin widen.
“You say the sweetest things. Now, shut up, and let me do my job.”
Friend time was over, and I surrendered to the chore of answering his questions and allowing his tests, knowing he was the best at what he did—keeping people alive.
Usually, at the end of a relationship, the people involved separated and went their own ways.
This was not the case for Molly and me. At the end of our engagement that had been going nowhere, we continued to see each other.
In a platonic sort of way.
Growing up, Molly, Jake, and I had been the best of friends. When Molly and Jake naturally gravitated toward one another and their relationship became something more, we always remained a team. The three amigos.
Until Jake left.
And then it was just Molly and me.
We made the mistake of pushing our relationship past its boundaries, but soon after we broke off our engagement, we were able to find that rhythm again, the one that had bonded us together as young children and still did as adults.
When I returned home from my rehabilitation, Molly made sure of this by inviting me over to the inn for weekly dinners. At first, I had been sure it was to keep an eye on me or a secret plot with my mother to make sure I was being fed properly at least twice a week between the two of them.
Whatever the reason, it continued to this day.
Except, now, our trio was complete.
Driving up to the inn that night after my rather unusual day, I felt nothing but relief at the normalcy of this dinner. There were times when Molly would be out traveling, and we’d skip for months on end, but we’d pick back up when she returned.
Same day of the week. Same time.
When Jake had moved back home for good a few months ago, it hadn’t changed. We just added more beer, and sometimes, if Molly was feeling crazy, she’d let her fiancé help with the cooking.
Parking the car in the driveway, I sincerely hoped tonight was not one of those nights. Jake had a way of destroying even the simplest of meals with a single glance. How a man who had been trained to be one of the best heart surgeons in Chicago could mangle a couple of stalks of celery was beyond me.
As I stepped out of my truck, I couldn’t help but notice the other cars around mine. I’d made it a habit to do so whenever I came to the inn. I loved seeing how far Molly’s guests traveled—or, in some cases, how little.
Tonight, I saw a rental from North Carolina, which suggested either a foreigner or someone from the West Coast, and a nice-looking sports car from up north. But nothing held my attention like the dusty little SUV from Virginia.
With a car seat in the back and a Princess Anne county sticker on the dash, it suddenly dawned on me—what I’d failed to ask Cora and Jake when I was in the clinic earlier that day.
Where was she staying?
Walking up to the front door, I didn’t bother knocking or ringing the doorbell. The one time I’d tried, shortly after Molly and I broke up, she’d nearly hit me over the head with a wooden spoon, reminding me that family did not knock.
Stepping into the wide foyer, I took a peek in either direction, feeling like a damn spy, as I tried to pinpoint Cora’s location.
Of course she was staying here.
Why was I even surprised? Jake and Molly were two of the most giving people I knew. A single mom relocating to a town she knew nothing about? Those two had probably insisted on it as part of her employment.
“What are you doing, standing out here like a lurker?” Molly’s voice filled the empty space, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“What? Who? Me? Nothing. Just wondering where you were. That’s all.”
Her blue eyes studied me for a moment, obviously seeing my bluff. “I was in the kitchen. Where else would I be? Come make yourself useful before Jake tries to. I sent him on a fool’s errand to grab charcoal for the grill. We have gas.” She grinned mischievously.
Shaking my head at her deceit, I followed her back into the kitchen, briefly looking over my shoulder like I was searching for some sort of ghost. She must have picked up on my distracted behavior because, the second we entered her sacred space, her hands reaching for a wooden spoon to stir something savory simmering on the stove, she began her interrogation.
“So, Jake said you were at the clinic today. How’d that go?”
Oh, she was a sly one.
“Good. And Jake didn’t say that,” I answered with a smirk, refusing to give in so easily. If Molly was going to prod me for answers to something she clearly already knew, I wasn’t going to make it easy for her. “You and I both know, I mentioned it last week.”
She made a face, momentarily scrunching her nose but letting it go almost immediately before going for round two. “Nothing out of the ordinary happen?” she said, giving her sauce a little taste before adding a pinch of salt.
I leaned back against the counter, not surprised in the least that she hadn’t given me anything to do yet. She didn’t need help; she rarely did. She just wanted me to tell her all about Cora because Jake couldn’t. Or he wouldn’t.
Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that.
Jake was a stickler for it but living in place where gossip was about as common as salt water, I couldn’t really blame him. Whatever happened inside the walls of that clinic, whether it be a chat with a patient about the game or the results of a test, he kept it to himself. Dealing with a small town, it was the only way he found he could keep it separate—the two sides of himself. And, as much as Molly respected it, it sometimes drove her insane.
Like right now.
“Nope,” I replied, enjoying the sight of her as she fought for answers.
“Are you sure? No one new there? No one you recognized?”
I pursed my lips like I was deep in thought before answering, “Mr. and Mrs. Joyner were there. Lovely couple. They remind me a little of you and Jake—or at least, you and Jake in the distant—”
“Dean Sutherland!”
A wide grin spread across my face. “What?”
Dropping her cooking utensil on the porcelain spoon rest next to the pot, she turned to face me, both hands at her hips, like she was ready to scold a misbehaving young child.
Not too far off, I thought.
“You know well and good what I’m talking about!”
Laughing, I nodded. “Of course I do. So, why don’t you just come out and ask me instead of going through all this trouble to draw it out of me?”
Her eyes tore away from me, a twinge of embarrassment coloring her fair cheeks. “Because. I don’t know,” she replied. “I didn’t know if you’d want to tell me.”
“Why?”
“Because maybe it’s none of my business.”
Eyebrow raised, I pushed off from my spot against the counter. “Since when has my life not been any of your business? Pretty sure it was all your business at one point.”
She threw her arms up. “Exactly my point! Maybe you don’t want to share stuff about another woman with your ex. Maybe that’s weird. Shouldn’t it be weird?”
Walking to the stove, I picked up her wooden spoon and handed it to her, knowing it’d calm her down to have something in her hand to keep her occupied. “No, it’s not weird. It’s never been weird between us, except for that part in the middle when we made it kind of weird.”
She laughed. “It really was weird.”
I nodded. “I’m going to stop using the word weird now. But, to piggyback on what you said, Cora isn’t another woman, Molly. She’s just a woman I used to know, okay? So, she’s moved here. That doesn’t change anything.”
“Why?” she asked, locking eyes with me.
I could see the warmth in them, the genuine concern for my well-being. She wanted me to be happy but not the general kind of happiness that everyone had. She wanted the true, deep-down joy she’d found with Jake, and knowing her, she’d do about anything to make sure I found it even if she had to force it on me.
“Because, Molly,” I answered, “not every story ends in a happily ever after. Some just end, and rather than dwell on it, you just move on. Cora and me, we were just that—a story.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” she fired back. “Because I remember the Dean in that hospital room who told me to go for broke when it came to Jake, regardless of the outcome. You told me to fight for him even if it was just for a single day because a sliver of happiness was better than a lifetime of misery.”
“I was on a lot of drugs in that hospital,” I scoffed.
“Stop it, Dean.”
I let out a huff. “So, what? You think Cora is my sliver? Based on what, Molly? A single encounter? She just went through a divorce, and she’s raising a child on her own. What makes you think I need that kind of baggage in my life right now?”
Her eyes widened, and rather than reply, she just stared back at me like she was seeing me for the first time. Honestly, I didn’t blame her. I barely recognized myself in that moment. The words had flown out of my mouth so quickly, I hadn’t had a chance to realize what I was saying until it was too late.
She took several steps in my direction. “Someday, you’re going to realize your life didn’t end out there on that boat, Dean,” she said, her voice quivering with emotion. “Someday, you’re going to look past those wounds and scars that ripped open your body and realize you have more to give, more to live, and more to love. When you do, I’ll be the first person in line to say, I told you so.”
Turning, she walked back to the counter and set her spoon down on the stove. I watched as she pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, an obvious attempt to keep the tears at bay. She left out the back door without saying a word.
I guessed there was no more to say.
Letting out a deep breath, I headed for the refrigerator and grabbed a beer, my head falling against the cool steel of the door as I let the last few minutes sink in. Had I really meant it? Did I think Cora wasn’t worth the baggage she carried?
No, I didn’t.
In reality, there wasn’t a person for miles who had more emotional baggage than me. I didn’t have the right to evaluate others when I barely had a grasp on my own.
So, why had I said it?
I remembered back in high school when my mother had sat me down and given me the talk. Not the talk, but the one that followed shortly after you started high school when parents remembered their own teen years and began to panic.
She’d told me, if I were ever in a situation, be it a party or an invitation to do something I knew would get me in trouble, I merely had to blame her.
“Blame you?” I’d asked.
“That’s right. Ain’t no skin off my back if those hooligans think I’m a square. You find yourself in the thick of things, you just tell ’em you have curfew or can’t go because you’re grounded. I’ll back you up. The point is, keep your nose out of trouble.”
I’d thought she was a little crazy at first, thinking there was no possible way I’d need such an out in a town like Ocracoke, but I’d highly underestimated the creativity of bored teenagers. While I’d dabbled in the normal stuff, like sneaking liquor from my mom’s cabinet and drinking beer on the beach, I’d definitely had to blame my mom a few times when after-game bonfires got out of hand or I simply wasn’t up for it.
And that was exactly what I was doing now.
Blaming someone else to protect myself from something that could possibly get out of hand. But, this time, it wasn’t a young boy trying to do right by his mother.
I was a scared coward of a man, running from something that could be good. Maybe even great. Yet, even admitting it to myself, I couldn’t change my mind.
I couldn’t take the first step.
No, I could.
I just wouldn’t.
Not now. Maybe not ever.