Page 88 of All The Way Under
I shake my head. “I’m never home. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“You could be home. You could accept the shore duty they’ve been trying to give you for months and settle down. You could have children and be home at night. It’s not the running and gunning you’ve been doing, but it could be something special,” Dad says.
He only knows this because I told Nolan. Have to love the game of family telephone, don’t I? At least Nolan gave the details correctly.
I don’t shoot him down straight away. I’ll give them hope before I snatch it away.
“What if I get bored?”
“There is never a dull moment with children, son. I promise you that. Boredom won’t be in your lexicon.”
“Grimace would hate kids,” I say. “I hope Mark does what I told him and gives him a treat before he leaves.”
Mark was running Grimace back to my place before coming to the reception. He offered, and he never offers to do anything with Grimace.
Mom groans. “Grimace would not. That dog is as soft as you on the inside. You love to play the mean dog card, but that dog doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. He’s a reflection of you.”
“Oh, I indeed have amean bonein my body,” I say, elbowing Dad gently.
A wheezy laugh escapes his wrinkled lips. Signs of aging on my parents make my chest tighten. The signal that time is passing, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.
“You are foul,” Mom claps back. “But I do love you and want you to have a fulfilled life.”
“I am fulfilled. I promise you.”
Dad puts his arm around my shoulders. “We accept this promise under one condition.”
I look at him. “I’m afraid to ask. I’m not going on any dates Mom sets me up on.”
They’ve tried that before. Mom has ladies at the doctor’s office she works at who have daughters they’ve been trying to set me up with all my life.
“No, no, we’ve given up on that,” Mom says.
“We won’t bring up dating or women again if you promise that the next time something scares you—and we know that doesn’t happen often—but if it scares you, lean in. Stop treating your heart like a grave. It’s a garden, son. A beautiful garden with lots to offer the right woman.”
The right woman. The right woman.
The thing with talking about her, which I don’t do often, is that now I’ll dream about her. Saylor will be visceral in my dreams, and when I wake in sheer excitement, she vanishes—a figment of a lost promise.
“I promise when something scares me, I’ll lean in. Then I’ll probably shoot it, but hell, I’ll lean in first.”
“Stop making jokes,” Mom says, slapping my shoulder. “We’re serious. We think that Say…shescared you. What could have been scared you. How close you were to having…something terrified you. Having something to lose,” she adds. “Be scared. Embrace it. Everyone in the world is scared at some point or another in a relationship. If you’re scared in a good way, you’re blessed.”
I hang my head. They’re right.
“Okay, okay. I got it. I’ll let myself be terrified, like a little pussy.”
Another slap. “Get off the bus. We’re here. Don’t embarrass us when you give your speech. Do you hear? Nothing wild. The girls from bridge are here. So are all of the ladies from work. The daughters too.”
“Moooom,” I groan.
She shakes one finger at my face while holding back a laugh. “Don’t embarrass us with your raucous childhood stories. I was a good mom.”
“You did everything you could, honey. They’re just unruly kids,” Dad says, wearing his devil-may-care smirk.
We walk off the bus, grinning. It’s sunset on the water, and it is fucking beautiful. I love looking at the water from land, knowing I’m not going to bein itwhen blackness takes over.
“Where did Catherine find this place? I’ve never been here before.”
