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“Everyone knows how hard it’s been for you, is all I’m saying. It probably makes her want to mother you even more.”
I’ve allowed Marla to mother me, but my shame and guilt have probably always stood between us. I need to get rid of this melancholy mood in the car and fast as we approach my dad and Marla’s house.
“I forgot to tell you, I have a date tonight. So in case you’re looking for me later and wondering where I am…”
He doesn’t say anything, but I see his chest rise and fall. I park in our driveway since my dad’s is sure to be packed. As soon as the car comes to a stop, he says nothing and climbs out, walking up the hill to my parents’.
I don’t really have a date, which means I have to find some way to kill time for a few hours. I feel bad, but it was necessary. I don’t need anyone feeling sorrier for me than I already do.
13
“YOU TELL NO ONE ABOUT THIS.”
Cam
I have no idea when Chevelle got home because I arrived home later than she did. Instead of driving myself crazy and watching her leave with her date, I worked on my little side project.
By the time I got home, she was already in her room, the light off, but the glare of the television shone through the small opening at the bottom of her door.
I wish I could get her to open up to me about her mother. Her scars are deep, and therapy helped, but I still hear it in her voice—she blames herself. Jesus, she was five and didn’t know the ice wasn’t solid. She was only in search of her brothers. Her story’s haunted this town for years, but as everyone else has moved on, Chevelle still looks at that moment as though it defines her worth.
And of course, she’s already gone this morning, so I head to the marina on foot. Which isn’t bad because I stop for coffee at The Grind. I reach the marina entrance and my phone rings, but I let it go to voice mail since I have a lot to do to get my boat ready before my charter arrives. The guy who booked it said there’s eight of them and they’re avid fishermen who pick a different spot every year. If all goes well, it should put me in at least second place on the list.
I pass Rowdy on the dock, who’s returning with his break-of-dawn customers.
“Heard you have a lot of guys this mornin’,” he says, helping his customers carry their catch to the store to turn it into filets they can take home.
“Yep, be careful, I’m coming for you.” I wink and climb aboard my boat.
I look over at Chevelle, who’s packing her cooler with drinks. She’s wearing her typical gear except she’s in pants since this morning is a tad chilly. I like her better in shorts for sure.
A guy catches my eye while I’m cleaning the front of my boat, where most people uninterested in fishing sit. It’s actually the most important spot because if the people the fishermen drag along don’t have fun, you might never see them again. Luckily my boat is big enough to accommodate.
“I’m looking for Cameron Baker?” I hear the stranger ask Rowdy.
Rowdy points at me and continues on his way.
“How can I help you?” I ask from the boat.
He stands on the dock and looks toward Chevelle instead of at me. “Um… I’m Kevin Irving. We had an excursion booked this morning for eight.”
“You’re a little early, but it won’t take me long to get the boat going. Earlier’s better anyway.” I look around. “Where’s the rest of you?”
He bites the corner of his lip and throws his hand through his grayish-black hair. “That’s the thing… we all drank a little too much last night, so we have to cancel. I tried to call, but you didn’t answer. Since we’re just at the inn, I drew the short stick and had to come and tell you in person.” He glances behind him again at Chevelle.
“Where’d you tie one on last night?” I walk down from the boat to join him on the dock.
“Someone told us about a bar in Lake Starlight, Lucky’s? And we met…” He turns again in Chevelle’s direction. “Do you know if that woman’s name is Chevelle?”
My body tenses. Was this her date? “It is. Why?”
He smiles. “Well, she was with us, and we were doing shots. At some point she disappeared, but we had to grab Ubers to bring us back to the inn.”
“Oh really?” Date my ass. Anger heats the blood in my veins.
“Yeah. Anyway, I’m sorry to waste your time. I’m sure you’re all booked for the day. Chevelle mentioned she had an opening for later this evening, so maybe we’ll book with her if we can get our shit together.”
He’s right, I am booked, but with my dad’s people. They might throw their rod in the water, but unless some miracle happens, they’ll let it sit there all day while they eat and drink and talk bullshit with each other. None of them are true fishermen.
