Page 115 of My Favorite Mistake

Ophelia threw herself onto the sand at Connor’s side and grabbed Scott’s wet shirt, jerking him and shaking him as sobs lurched out of her.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t youever…don’t youever…” She slapped her palms on his cheeks, gripping his face, and an anguished whimper escaped her lips. “You have adaughter. You haveme.Don’t youever…”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I had to do something.” Scott gathered her into his arms, and she dissolved into weeping against his chest, and he watched helplessly as the Captain continued to work on Connor.

Liza stood for all of two or three seconds before dropping to her knees next to Connor’s thighs. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. The Captain alternated pressing his palms into Connor’s chest and administering mouth-to-mouth, and Connor was so pale his lips tinged blue.

“Come on, son,” the Captain urged Connor under his breath. “Work with me, son. You can do this.”

More mouth-to-mouth; more chest compressions. Liza wrapped her palm around the back of Connor’s knee, and the Captain shifted his chin back farther to open his airway more.

“Come on, Connor. Come back to me, son.”

Liza couldn’t hear much of anything beyond the Captain quietly pleading with Connor.

“I know you can do this. You’ve got this. You’re stronger than this, Connor.”

A pair of arms wrapped around Liza’s shoulders, and what sounded like someone whispering in French prayers drifted in one of her ears and out the other.

She wondered if this was how Connor felt. When he lost all those friends overseas. When he lost Javier. When she told him about the wreck.

Did he feel responsible? Did he feel like his own hands had constructed each of those situations? She knew that he did, and she knew now exactly how it felt. Because his lips were still blue, and the immovable Captain’s voice was starting to crack in desperation.

“Come on, Connor. Come back to me, son. Come back to me. Stay with me, son. I’ve got you. Just come on back.”

More whispering in French. Scott shouted at someone on the phone.

“Goddammit!” the Captain shouted and then wrenched his large fist back before he slammed it into Connor’s chest with such force it seemed his sternum might crack in two.

And then, Connor coughed.

Water exploded out of his mouth, and he sucked in a gasp, and all the oxygen emptied from Liza’s lungs.

“There ya go.” The Captain flipped Connor onto his side and patted his back. “That’s my boy. You got it. Just keep coughing, son.”

“Oh God, Liza, look.” Ophelia shook Liza’s shoulders and squeezed her. “Look, he’s breathing.”

Sure enough, Connor’s chest was rising and falling, and his lips slowly returned to their natural color.

The Captain gripped under Connor’s arms and hefted his torso onto his lap, holding him upright against the Captain’s heaving chest. He scrubbed Connor’s hair and patted his cheek, and Connor’s head fell back against his dad’s shoulder.

“‘atta boy!” The Captain’s voice was thick and graveled, and he gave Connor’s chest a few firm pats. “Keep breathing. You’ve got this. You’re doing great, son.”

Connor’s eyelids finally peeled open, revealing eyes that drifted and didn’t focus, and he blinked a few times. “Dad?”

Liza’s breath caught. Every time she’d ever seen Connor speak to his father, even years and years before, he’d only called himCaptain. She knew it was a complicated relationship, and Connor was clearly incoherent at that moment, but the simple word struck her as monumental.

The Captain patted Connor’s chest again. “Yeah, I’ve got you, son. I’m right here.” He gave Connor a small shake and pointed at Scott, Ophelia, and Liza. “We’re all here. We all love you.” He held the base of Connor’s chin and turned it toward Liza. “Look at that beautiful girl. Look how much she loves you, son. You need to stick around for her.”

Connor’s gaze focused on Liza’s, but he made no move and simply continued to suck in deep breaths.

“You need to stick around for me, and your mama, and your sisters. You hear me? You got this.” The Captain hoisted Connor higher against his chest. “I’ve never seen you quit, son. You don’t have it in you. And I’ve seen you do things that would’ve brought other men to their knees.”

“Bullshit,” Connor rasped, and then coughed.

“Nah. Nah, it ain’t bullshit.” The Captain scrubbed Connor’s hair again and patted his cheek. “Every time you came home, you went straight to the wives and mothers of your brothers. You didn’t have to do that. You did it because it was the right thing to do, thehonorablething to do, and I know it was hard as hell. I know going to see Morales’ mama liked to have killed you, but you did it anyway, and I have never been more proud of anything.”

Connor choked and squeezed his eyes shut. “Save your bullshit.”

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