Page 84 of The Hitchhiker in Panama
“Yes, well, it was rather rude of them to say that. They owe you an apology. I might have to write Jonas a stern letter.”
“They did apologize, and Jonas said I am welcome to stay on the boat. Save your letter-writing for someone else who deserves your wrath.”
“Disappointing.” She tsk-tsked. “So then, the real heart of the matter, do you want to be back on the boat?”
“It’s just . . . I thought getting off the boat would be easier. Life would be easier. But . . .” I looked around the hostel at all these strangers, smoking weed, drinking beer, having loud conversations in nearly a dozen languages. Suddenly it seemed irritating and dull. How could it compete with the wide-open ocean? I closed my eyes and thought of Eivind’s joyful warmth, Jonas’s quiet reserve, the colors of the sea, and the gloss and shine ofEik.
“You feel conflicted?” Dad asked.
I opened my eyes. “Yeah. I do.”
In the silence, my mum sighed, resigned. “She’s in love.”
I didn’t argue. I’d never felt this way about someone before, so perhaps it was love.
“Well,Eikhas plans, and Eivind is part of that.”
“Why can’t you stay on the boat?”
My mouth dropped open; I was shocked that my mum would even consider that option.
“I have plans,” I said stubbornly. “Backpacking in South America.”
“Yes, I know about those plans. I’m pretty sure you picked them just to piss me off. Sailing away with Eivind would accomplish the same goal.”
I smiled. “It wasn’tallabout pissing you off, Mum.” I picked at the corner of the table in front of me. “I did ask Eivind to come with me.”
A heavy silence fell. “He said no?”
I sighed. “It was more important for him to stay with his brother than to be with me.”
“Ah,” Mum said. “‘Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option.’”
“Something like that. It made me really angry at first, but the more I think about it, the more I can understand it. Eivind made his commitment to Jonas, and he doesn’t want to back out and let his brother down.”
“I think that’s pretty admirable.”
I groaned. “And I don’t want him to give that up.”
“It sounds like you might have just needed a break from the boat and the stress. There’s nothing wrong with a time-out.”
“It might be too late.” I swallowed, regret thickening in my throat.
“Oh, sweetie. It’s never too late.”
Thirty-Eight
I climbed down the stairs of the hostel and started for the breakfast buffet. I needed some serious coffee. I’d slept fitfully the night before, tossing and turning, thinking about my conversation with Mum and the decisions I had to make. I wasn’t sure if I missed the gentle rocking of the ocean or the warmth of Eivind’s body pressed against me or both.
I pressed a mug under the dispenser and waited on the slow trickle of coffee. Someone walked up behind me to wait their turn.
“Morning,” I muttered.
“God morgen” came a careful voice.
I spun so quickly, the coffee flew out of my mug, and Eivind barely managed to dodge it.
“Shite.” I grabbed a handful of napkins to throw on the floor. Eivind helped, pressing the bottom of his shoes onto the napkins and rubbing them around.
