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Authors: Sasha Summers
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inches apart. “It’s been like this for so long…” I shrugged and tried again. “It started out of necessity, for my family. Then it just kind of stuck, became the pattern of normalcy. There’s a sort of pathetic comfort in knowing what to expect.”
“What does ‘like this’ mean, Claire?” His voice was soft.
“Auto-pilot? Or—” I smiled. “—a ship at sea without any charts or stars or landmarks, just aimlessly adrift. I’m not sure that makes any sense. I don’t know how to describe it. I’m not good at this, I told you.” I shrugged, frustrated. “My life’s not bad, it’s just…there.” I shrugged again, my face pinched. I watched his face, anxiously awaiting the appearance of a bored or disinterested expression. Any time now, surely .
He was thoughtful for a while. Then he said, “Can I ask what happened to leave you so uncertain?”
“No.” I didn’t want the details of my past here. This was something untarnished and I liked it that way. I looked out over the water, trying to sound nonchalant. “I mean, you can ask. I’m not going to answer.”
“Fair enough.” He nudged me, his hand finding mine. He held my hand in his, squeezing it gently. “How long have you been adrift, then?”
I took a deep breath. “About two years.”
“What’s holding you back?” His brow furrowed as he waited for my answer.
“I wish I had a better answer.” I sighed. “But I don’t really know. I’ve asked myself that, but haven’t come up with an explanation that makes sense.” I watched his face. “More than you wanted to hear?”
“No. It’s rather cryptic. Very cryptic, in fact. But I understand that you don’t want to share everything.”
I was surprised by his earnestness. “I guess I’m waiting for you to change the subject…or admit you’re not really listening.”
His hand tightened around mine. “I am listening.”
“Which is what I don’t understand,” I said softly. My eyes melted into his, their golden depths clear and open.
“I don’t either, not fully.” His voice was soft and uncertain. “But there it is.”
I found myself staring at him, unable to ignore the thrill his words stirred.
“And you have children?”
I laughed. “I knew the knife fight thing wasn’t a good cover.”
“My sister has a similar scar, and three children.”
“I have two children.”
He smiled. “A good number.”
“They are great kids. They’re the only reliable things in my life.”
“What do you mean?”
I shook my head, frustrated that I’d said more than I’d wanted. “How about a walk instead?” I slipped from his lap and stood.
He stared up at me. “You asked me what I wanted to know.”
“Yes. But I might choose not to answer—even if you want to know.” I began to chew on the inside of my lip.
“It’s part of a conversation, you know, the exchanging of information.” He cocked an eyebrow then continued. “You said you weren’t very good at them, conversations. Consider this practice.” He patted the sand beside him.
I narrowed my eyes at him then sat again. Why am I smiling like an idiot?
“Okay. Practice, huh?” My voice was soft, the words rushing out. “I put them first. I put their wants and needs before everything and everyone else.” I spoke softly, the intense guilt pressing in on me.
He looked confused. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do as a mum?”
“I think that’s what people are led to believe, and it’s hard not to, but…I know now that I made things happen because I didn’t pay as much attention to the family, as a unit, and my husband…as a man.” My stomach churned, the way it always did when thoughts of Daniel popped up.
“Made what things happen?”
I blew out my breath, wrinkling my nose. “Look, I know I threw out the whole what do you want to know thing, but this is getting a little heavy. I haven’t thought through a lot of this on my own, yet.”
“So far I’m keeping up. It
“What does ‘like this’ mean, Claire?” His voice was soft.
“Auto-pilot? Or—” I smiled. “—a ship at sea without any charts or stars or landmarks, just aimlessly adrift. I’m not sure that makes any sense. I don’t know how to describe it. I’m not good at this, I told you.” I shrugged, frustrated. “My life’s not bad, it’s just…there.” I shrugged again, my face pinched. I watched his face, anxiously awaiting the appearance of a bored or disinterested expression. Any time now, surely .
He was thoughtful for a while. Then he said, “Can I ask what happened to leave you so uncertain?”
“No.” I didn’t want the details of my past here. This was something untarnished and I liked it that way. I looked out over the water, trying to sound nonchalant. “I mean, you can ask. I’m not going to answer.”
“Fair enough.” He nudged me, his hand finding mine. He held my hand in his, squeezing it gently. “How long have you been adrift, then?”
I took a deep breath. “About two years.”
“What’s holding you back?” His brow furrowed as he waited for my answer.
“I wish I had a better answer.” I sighed. “But I don’t really know. I’ve asked myself that, but haven’t come up with an explanation that makes sense.” I watched his face. “More than you wanted to hear?”
“No. It’s rather cryptic. Very cryptic, in fact. But I understand that you don’t want to share everything.”
I was surprised by his earnestness. “I guess I’m waiting for you to change the subject…or admit you’re not really listening.”
His hand tightened around mine. “I am listening.”
“Which is what I don’t understand,” I said softly. My eyes melted into his, their golden depths clear and open.
“I don’t either, not fully.” His voice was soft and uncertain. “But there it is.”
I found myself staring at him, unable to ignore the thrill his words stirred.
“And you have children?”
I laughed. “I knew the knife fight thing wasn’t a good cover.”
“My sister has a similar scar, and three children.”
“I have two children.”
He smiled. “A good number.”
“They are great kids. They’re the only reliable things in my life.”
“What do you mean?”
I shook my head, frustrated that I’d said more than I’d wanted. “How about a walk instead?” I slipped from his lap and stood.
He stared up at me. “You asked me what I wanted to know.”
“Yes. But I might choose not to answer—even if you want to know.” I began to chew on the inside of my lip.
“It’s part of a conversation, you know, the exchanging of information.” He cocked an eyebrow then continued. “You said you weren’t very good at them, conversations. Consider this practice.” He patted the sand beside him.
I narrowed my eyes at him then sat again. Why am I smiling like an idiot?
“Okay. Practice, huh?” My voice was soft, the words rushing out. “I put them first. I put their wants and needs before everything and everyone else.” I spoke softly, the intense guilt pressing in on me.
He looked confused. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do as a mum?”
“I think that’s what people are led to believe, and it’s hard not to, but…I know now that I made things happen because I didn’t pay as much attention to the family, as a unit, and my husband…as a man.” My stomach churned, the way it always did when thoughts of Daniel popped up.
“Made what things happen?”
I blew out my breath, wrinkling my nose. “Look, I know I threw out the whole what do you want to know thing, but this is getting a little heavy. I haven’t thought through a lot of this on my own, yet.”
“So far I’m keeping up. It
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