Chapter 5

I spent the evening out on the dock alone, sort of. On purpose. I’d had enough of other people for one day, and just wanted the quiet sounds of the water trickling through the cattails and swamp grass.

I wandered down the road first, to my old cove, Bojangles at my heels. It was clear that not too many others shared my feelings about Coffee Ground Cove because it was highly overgrown and difficult to get through the vines and growth. There was one path down to the dock, and only one side of the dock that was still sturdy enough to hold weight. As I looked around, I tried not to let disappointment settle over me. You can never go back, I guess. But in my heart it would always be magical.

Bojangles, on the other hand, kept staring at the ground as if ticks were ready to ambush him, so we headed back to our own dock. He looked tickled shitless to have company at his favorite spot. He lay at my side, sprawled on his belly with his head slightly over the edge of the dock so he could watch the ladyfish and shad swim just under the surface.

If I’d had bread crumbs to throw out, the water would churn in a frenzy and he’d jump up and wag his tail and bark at them. But today, there was no bread, no frenzy, no barking. Just peace. He seemed good with it. I was envious of that.

Simple lack of activity, and he was fine either way. No stress. No decisions other than where to walk, where to pee, when to sleep or eat.

“Damn dog.”

Bojangles lifted his head at the sudden break in the silence and tilted it. His tail wagged a couple of strokes, slow as if unsure. I dug my fingers in the soft hair of his neck to relax him back down before he decided to come sit on me. A long cattail swayed next to the dock, and I plucked it from its mucky roots. Letting the furry end just touch the surface, I skimmed the calm water, watching the resulting ripples resonate out. Forever changing something’s world for that one second.

I felt the footsteps behind me, and Bojangles’s tail went into full thump mode as he flopped awkwardly to his feet. I turned to see Dad walk up with two Cokes and a bag of pretzels.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” He scoped out the options, then groaned as he lowered himself down to sit as Bo danced around him and then sat between us. “Lord, I remember when getting on the ground didn’t require premeditation.”

I laughed and reached into the bag. We sat in silence for a bit as the duskiness fell over the water. Bojangles watched the pretzel bag till his eyes got heavy. Then I felt the gaze and looked to the right to catch my dad studying me.

“What?”

“You tell me.”

I shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Nothing doesn’t usually have you out here hanging with Bo.”

“He twisted my arm.”

Bojangles let out a long snore right about that time.

“Well, no one can deny his charm.”

I laughed a pretzel right out of my mouth on that one, and Bo simultaneously woke up and snatched it out of midair before he flopped back down to munch sideways.

“Wow.”

Dad held out the bag again. “Saw Marg today. Said you’re doing good. She likes you. And she doesn’t just like everybody, so that’s saying something.”

“She likes you.”

He took the bag back and shook his head. “Don’t be silly.”

“I’m saying she lights up like a Christmas tree when it comes to you.”

“So what happened to your car?”

I smiled. “Subtle.”

“Made a good impression on the new boss, huh?”

I blew out a breath and looked back toward where my car sat guiltily. “God, can’t anyone keep their mouth shut around here?”

“Pretty much no.”

I rubbed at my face, feeling the day’s twitch coming back. “You wondered why I sat with Bo? He wasn’t quizzing me.”

Dad chuckled. “Sorry.”

I ran a hand through my hair and let it fall. The dark swallowed up the water in front of me and I remembered being seventeen and wishing it would swallow me with it. I was careful not to look down, straight into the water beneath me. Night water was like the rain. Just waiting for me to succumb to it. Waiting for me to fall in so it could suck me down.

I shook my head free of the vertigo pulling at me. “Went out on the boat with Jiminy yesterday.”

There was a pause before he laughed. “No kidding?”

“Went out with Hank today.”

“Well, aren’t you just stepping outside your box?”

I grabbed a pretzel. “I think my box stayed in Dallas.” At his chuckle I added, “Jiminy knew me, by the way.”

He nodded. “He knew you when you were little.”

“He said you and him and Mom used to hang out.”

Another chuckle. “That seems like a hundred years ago.”

“Everything changed when she died, huh?”

He nudged me. “Just got busy. You know as well as I do how life changes when you have a baby. Everything you used to think was important becomes trivial.”

“Especially doing it alone.”

“Especially.”

“Still miss Mom?”

He took his time letting out the next breath. “Every day.”

“Me, too,” I said, although it barely came out. “I mean, it’s odd to miss someone you’ve never met. But I guess I miss the idea of her.”

“How does Riley handle that?”

I looked at him, confused by the turn.

“About her dad—”

“Oh.” Strange, that I’d never seen it as similar. “She—really hasn’t brought it up in a long time. She used to.”

“You still tell her you bought her at a store?”

“Hmm.” I laughed. “That was easier, wasn’t it?”

Funny that I could laugh about it now. Riley was five when I had to tell her she wasn’t bought. She had seen past that ruse and wanted the skinny. At that time, the story became that there was once a daddy but that he had to leave. It was always lame.

But how do you tell a child that the man who helped make her was a loser asshole who charmed her gullible mom. The kind of loser who says all the right things and drops hope and affection and “L” words in your lap and to someone as love-starved as I was, seemed to be lined in gold. The kind of loser who talks you into futures and picket fences and letting go of friends and possessions and everything to move into his fancy apartment, getting rid of your own stuff because it doesn’t match.

And then when you get pregnant, he looks at you, smiles, kisses you off to work, and while you are at work happily caught up in thoughts of a wedding and a family in your rosy-tinted world, he packs up everything and vanishes.

No clothes left behind. No toothbrush. No hair in the sink or drool stain on the pillow. Because there was no pillow. He took that, too.

No proof that he was ever there except for what you have cooking inside you. How do you tell your child that? That I know I’m not important enough to be graced like the Virgin Mary, I know I didn’t imagine six months of my life with this man, but he evidently fabricated a job, a name, an identity that I found out was all false.

An acquaintance of mine that had met him once at a restaurant with me did at least verify in my mind that he was real and living and that I hadn’t completely crossed over reality. But it didn’t matter. He left me without a trace. No note. No savings. No furniture or appliances. Just college loans and an apartment I couldn’t afford to keep.

Yeah, that was pretty real.

When Riley was twelve, she bluntly asked me, So, do you really know who my dad is or was it a one-night stand?

Too much TV. Definitely.

A one-night stand, I told her.

I just couldn’t bear to tell her that he was Houdini in Armani and escaped when told of her existence. Let her think I was just sleazy. I just couldn’t tell her the truth.

Kinda like now.

“I tried to tell her about—the ghosts—today.”

I felt his head swivel. I swear. “Really.”

“Yeah.” I shoved another pretzel in my mouth and proceeded to talk around it. “Didn’t go so well. She thought I was a lunatic, which in hindsight she was probably right.”

“So she knows?”

“No. She didn’t catch on. I was a babbling idiot.”

“Do you—think you should, really?”

I blew out a sigh. “I’d love not to have to, but—” But what? My invisible friend tells me I should? “—But I don’t know. I’d rather she heard from me.”

He looked down. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“She tell you she got a job?”

“No.”

“At The Market. Just walked down there today and decided what the hell, I guess.”

“Hunh.” He chuckled. “Y’all have had a full day, haven’t you?”

“We had something. Well, at least she has the desire to get some money. That’s the first sign of ambition I’ve seen, yet. Usually she just holds a hand out.”

“What does she want to be?” he asked.

“A mooch, so far. She’s so lazy.”

He elbowed me, getting up slowly. “So were you, and you turned out okay.”

I rose with him, and Bojangles looked disappointed that the party was over.

“Yeah, I’m just the poster child for success.”

He gave me a look. “Quit being so hard on yourself. You’re doing fine.”

I looked out at the water, surrounded by dark, lit only by the partial moon and a radio tower in the distance.

“I don’t know, Dad. This brand of fine is beating me up.”

I sat cross-legged in the big chair in my room, looking out the window at the dark. I barely recall sitting there in earlier years. I was usually slung across my messy bed. Besides, it was Alex’s spot.

I ran a finger along the worn, fuzzy arm, tracing the pattern in the gray fabric.

“What are you doing?”

I looked up, proud of myself for not jumping. My old skin was coming back. But I wasn’t in the mood. Alex strolled closer and leaned against the window.

“Mad at me?”

I followed the lines with my finger. “Did you know this was a maze? Inside—”

“—A bigger maze.” He nodded and gave a sideways smirk. “Spent a lot of time there.”

I met his eyes. “So you should know better than anyone how hard I’m trying here. Trying to make things good for Riley.”

“Yes.”

“So popping up in public to make me dance like that was not cool.”

“Dani—” he began.

“You knew she’d see you and talk to you. You pick The Market parking lot for that? My God.”

His expression didn’t change. “If you were honest with her, you wouldn’t have to dance.”

I got up and stood just inches from him and stared up into his face. My head started buzzing at the proximity, and I had to back up a half step before I—before I what? I shook my head clear.

“I’ve had to dance my whole life. Knowing doesn’t make it easier.”

“You can’t be with her twenty-four-seven to protect her, Dani. I’m sure she’s done it before now, she’s just been damn lucky no one has noticed. She needs to know how to react to this, how to protect herself. Why don’t you want to give her that?”

“Because she’s sixteen. She shouldn’t have to protect herself. She shouldn’t have to worry about her reactions and who’s watching.” I hugged my arms in front of me, trying to stem the emotion rising up like the noise ringing in my ears. “Because once I tell her, the life she knows is over. Nothing will ever be the same for her.”

He frowned. “And you think you’re the only source? You’d rather she found out like you did? Have some stranger point it out?”

“So that’s what that whole dog-and-pony show was about today?”

He crossed his arms and looked at me in disbelief. “What are you so angry about?”

I felt my resolve snap. “Because that’s crossing the line, Alex!” I yelled in his face. Too close. His eyes flashed and his jaw tightened. “That’s screwing with my life. And hers.”

“I’m not screwing with you or anybody else, Dani,” he shot back at me through clenched teeth. “I want you to open your damn eyes. Why are you so hardheaded?”

“Why do you care so much what my daughter knows or doesn’t know? It’s none of your business.”

His face went stony. “Fine. Figure it out.”

He walked out the bedroom door into the hallway and was gone. My adrenaline pumped so fast, I could hear my heartbeat. I walked to the bed, sat down, and crumbled. Too many sleepless nights and the exhaustion of the day settled on me like a heavy fog, and I couldn’t fight the emotion anymore. I closed my eyes and fell over on my side, the stress shaking my body.

* * *

I jerked awake hours later, still lying in the same spot, still in my clothes. Judging from the bowling balls on my eyelids, I gathered my pre-slumber crying jag had done its typical number.

“Shit,” I mumbled as I rubbed them and pushed myself up on a groan.

“Welcome back.”

I jumped. “Damn it, Alex.” I couldn’t pull the cobwebs out. “See, that’s what my life is about. And that’s what Riley gets to look forward to now. People morphing out of the walls.”

“Yeah, your life sucks so bad.”

I dropped my head and sighed. “I didn’t mean to get all over you like that, earlier. It was a bad day.”

He rose from his chair and crossed the space to kneel in front of me. “Tomorrow’s another day.”

I stared at the window, black and solid. That’s how I felt. “I tried, Alex. I tried talking to her and I choked.” Tears burned the backs of my eyes. “I don’t want this for her.”

“It’s not your choice, love,” he whispered.

I closed my eyes and let the tears come again. I was so tired of tears. Alex never left. He watched me cry in silence, unable to touch me or hold me or wipe my tears away. He could only be there. Like always. Or almost always.

“Where did you go?” I rasped finally, when I was spent.

His eyebrows twitched together in question.

“When I moved away.”

He paused for a second. “I was there. For a while.”

I perked up. “Where?”

“Around.”

“But—”

“You needed to learn how to interact with the living, Dani.”

“Without you.”

He nodded almost imperceptibly. “Without me.”

My lip quivered again. “I missed you.”

Something in his eyes flickered. “I missed you, too.”

There was a long, intense gaze between us that was new. Felt like a hole was burning through the back of my brain.

“And when I got pregnant and lost everything? And raised her alone?”

“You had friends.”

I scoffed. “Not close ones.”

“That was your choice.”

How did he know that? “I was alone.”

“You were never alone.” His jaw twitched but his eyes bored into me, hard. “Riley was born on a Friday night, after six hours of labor, seven o’clock straight up. She stopped crying as soon as she saw your face.”

My skin prickled and his image swam before me. “You were there.”

“Of course I was.”

Several moments of silence passed. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why did you stay? Why me? Every other spirit comes and goes. Not you. You stuck.”

He blinked and looked away, which told me the subject was about to change. He was uncomfortable. Any other time, he’d outstare a mannequin. I watched him reestablish his control as he met my eyes.

“You kept things interesting.”

“That’s all? I kept you from being bored?”

He laughed. “In a sense.” His smile remained, but his eyes got serious. “You’re my friend. You matter.”

The air got thick. It needed to be lightened up.

“So, if you were around, did you watch me do everything?”

The corners of his mouth turned up.

“You did? You watched me?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Come on, what do you think I am?”

“A man.”

“But not a pervert. I do believe in privacy.”

I raised my eyebrows. “This from the man who pops up in my bedroom with no warning.”

“Here is different.”

“How so?”

“Just is.”

That actually made me laugh, and I wiped my drippy face. “So now you’d think nothing of watching me?”

“Not with another man. I wouldn’t want to see that.”

My stomach did a shimmy. He’d be jealous? “So, then—”

“Let’s talk about the shower.”

“The shower?” I laughed again. “You saying you want to see me naked?”

He chuckled. “Uh, what did you call me a minute ago? Oh yeah. A man.”

“But not a pervert.”

He laughed lightly again and crossed the room to sit in “his” chair. To get away from me? Too hot in the room? Hmmm.

“I’m saying you’re beautiful. What man wouldn’t want to see you?”

I grinned. “Well, maybe I’d want to see you, too.”

“Love to help you out with that, but this doesn’t leave.” He held out his jacket and dropped it back to rest against his body.

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

“Bet you’d be hot.” Did I just say that to Alex? It was a weird turn. Even weirder, and not unnoticed by me, was that he’d called me love. That was new, too.

A smile pulled at his lips and he gazed unblinking at me. “If memory serves.”

Heat ran straight to my face, but I laughed out loud. “Well, don’t hold back the confidence.”

“You know, you could have it worse. I could have been ugly.”

“True.”

His expression lit up the room. “Good to see you laugh again.”

“Oh God,” I said under my breath. I rubbed my swollen eyes and groaned. “I’m too old for all this drama.”

“HAVEN’T seen the boss around lately, have you?” I asked Bob one day a few weeks later as I helped him load the vats. Actually, I just held the door open for him; he seemed to do better without me in the way.

“Think he’s out of town.”

“Hmm.”

Not that I wanted more of Jason Miller and his insults, but I did want to know the status on the car damage and how much that would cost me. His insurance hadn’t called mine back with the estimate, so I was in limbo.

“Boat’s there, but car’s gone, so I assume.”

“Boat?”

Bob jutted his head to the left as if that nailed it. At my vacant expression, he said, “The little houseboat in the cove around the point from here? You’ve seen it, right?”

“That—that’s his?”

“Yes, ma’am. He lives there.”

And drives a BMW. “Where does he park his car?”

Bob looked up patiently. “Next to the dock.”

Stupid points for me. “Who lives on a boat?” I said absently.

“A guy whose ex-wife took the house.”

I stared at Bob, or actually at his hump, since the way he leaned over I couldn’t see his head.

“How do you know all this?”

Bob stood upright and stretched, adjusting his metal leg. “He talks to me.”

“Really?”

Bob’s grin displayed his many gaps. “Guess I just have one of them faces.”

I laughed. “I guess you do. So what else did you find out?”

“He gave up everything except his boat and his car, let her have it all, then she sold everything and moved to Texas.”

“Here?”

“Hour from here. That’s where he goes when he takes off.”

“To see her?”

He stood upright and gave me an exasperated look. “To see his son.”

I felt my jaw drop. “He has a son?”

Bob shook his head and laughed. “Do you talk to anyone?”

“Clearly not enough.”

We finished up and I locked the place down, filled with anticipation for the evening. Riley and I had plans to go to Miss Olivia’s for dinner. The elusive Grady had arrived, so she was ready for company. I was ready to relax and let my guard down a little.

Riley, on the other hand, acted like I’d signed her up for the army.

“God, it’s a setup, Mom,” she said as she stomped back and forth from her room to mine. Mine had the better bathroom.

“No, it’s not.”

“Bullshit.”

“Watch your mouth.”

I got a disgusted sigh as she tossed her mascara on the counter.

“Please! I mean she seems nice and all, but I am not going to go sit on the porch and drink lemonade with some hayseed hick.”

I choked back a chuckle. “Who said anything about lemonade?”

“I’m just telling you—”

“Look, we are going because my oldest, dearest friend invited us to dinner. I never asked you to wear a party dress and pearls, okay? Go Goth and scare the crap out of him, I don’t care. But act right.”

“Whatever,” she mumbled. “Where are all your friends, by the way?”

I stopped, straight iron halfway to my head. “What?”

“I haven’t seen you talk to anyone or run across anyone other than Miss O. You never have, come to think of it. That you appear to like, anyway. I mean, everyone couldn’t have left like you did, did they?”

I blinked and opened my mouth to say—something. But that something told me we had ten minutes and it wasn’t the time. Again. I went back to mauling my hair.

“Yeah, I guess they did.”

“Well, I can’t say I blame any of you.”

Standing on Miss Olivia’s still-green porch with my sulky daughter was surreal. Like I’d stepped back in time. Except for the lock on the door. That was new.

The hunk that appeared on the other side of the screen was new, too. I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing as I watched Riley’s eyeballs fall out of her head. He held open the screen door for us, and I winked at her as I walked past her and touched her cheek.

“Close your mouth, boog,” I whispered. “Mosquitos are bad.”