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“You poor kid. That’s so unfair.”
I lift my hand and let it drop. “I was the town drunk’s son, guilty by association. Because I was underage, the case never went to trial.” Feeling as though I might collapse, I make my way over to a nearby teak bench and plop down. Tears blur my vision as I look down at the colorful flowers planted around me.
Clemmy waits a few minutes before joining me. “Are Bert’s parents still alive?”
“As far as I know. He has an older sister, Kristy. She was also at the party that night. She was furious with us for showing up uninvited. I told her I was worried about Bert. That he’d been drinking, and I was going to drive him home. But she was hanging out with her friends, and when I asked her to help me get him to the car, she told me to buzz off.”
Clemmy’s brow shoots up. “Wow. Talk about a heavy load of guilt. Where is Kristy now?”
“I have no clue.”
“Did you ever have a chance to speak to his family about the accident?”
“I tried. I wanted to apologize. Even though it wasn’t my fault, I felt responsible. I went to visit his family when I got out of the hospital, but they refused to see me. After the district attorney dropped the manslaughter charge, Bert’s parents brought a civil lawsuit against me. My parents, who were worn out with the whole situation, paid them a very large sum of money.”
“Did your parents send you to therapy?”
I give my head a solemn shake. “Nope.”
“So, you never processed your guilt or grief, and it’s been festering inside of you all these years.”
I bury my face in my hands. “Pretty much.”
* * *
I’m mentally drained by the time I leave Clemmy’s. I’m even considering canceling my evening with Julia. But my spirits immediately brighten when she arrives at five with her arms laden with food dishes. My sister is right. Julia is stunningly beautiful. Her short hair highlights her delicate features, while her yellow sundress reveals her sun-kissed bare shoulders and dances around her shapely legs. Spotting her hard-sole sandals, I shake my head.
In response to my bewilderment, she asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. But you have a lot to learn about the boating life.”
I help her carry the bowl of salad and dish of warm cornbread to the kitchen. “We have chicken breasts marinating, and Mia made us a key lime pie for dessert.”
“That sounds delicious,” she says. “I met Mia in the carpool line. She seems wonderful.”
“She’s a lifesaver. Thanks to her, I was able to put in a full week at work for the first time in months.”
The three children burst through the kitchen door chanting, “Boat ride! Boat ride! Boat Ride!”
I chuckle. “I’m ready. Go get your life jackets out of the carport,” I say, ushering them back out of the door.
Julia calls after them. “Bring one for me.”
My eyes travel the length of her dress. “You’re not seriously going to cover up your pretty dress with a life preserver?”
Her cheeks turn a dainty shade of pink. “I probably won’t wear it. I just feel better having one with me.”
“What you really mean is you don’t yet trust my boating skills.” My teasing tone sounds foreign to my ears. This woman brings out a lightheartedness in me I haven’t felt in a long time. I’m sure telling Clemmy about Bert had something to do with my improved mood. After holding it all inside for decades, getting it off my chest is liberating.
She flashes a brilliant smile at me. “Give a girl a break. This is only my second boating adventure.”
“You’ll learn. Are you ready for today’s lesson?”
“Hmm. Depends on what it is.”
I point at her sandals. “Never wear hard-sole shoes on a boat. Not only do they make it easier for you to slip, they scuff up the deck.”
“Oops. I didn’t know.” Julia’s eyes fall to her feet. “What should I do? I didn’t bring any other shoes.”
