I soaked until I felt thawed out and boneless. If I was going to stay in a room like this, I was going to make the most of it.
When the bubbles were mostly gone, I got out and took a quick shower, threw on some pajamas, and went back into the bedroom. Looking around to make sure no one was there, I used the brocade couch as a runway to somersault onto the bed. It was stupid and childish, but I figured if I was about to suffer from a horrifying nightmare, I’d squeeze in all the stupid, childish fun I could get.
I crawled between the cool sheets, switched the lamp off next to the bed, and nestled into the mound of pillows. I was asleep in seconds.
The first thing I noticed was a gentle rocking motion. It seemed vaguely familiar, like stepping into someone’s house you haven’t been to in years and remembering the smell of it. Blue sky and green tree branches waved above me in a friendly, lazy sort of way. As I looked around, more details settled into place, like graphics loading in a video game. I realized, finally, that I was sitting on the floor of a fishing boat. And with sudden clarity, I knew exactly where I was. In fact, I’d been here many times.
And I absolutely didn’t want to be here now.
My throat was already tight with tears as I looked up. And there he was, sitting on an old folding chair in a flannel shirt and jeans, looking out over the water. He noticed I was awake and looked over at me with a wide smile.
“Hey, care bear, how was your nap?”
I blinked my way past the tears to look at his face.
“Dad?”
The smile disappeared. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He stood up and came over to me. “Why are you crying, honey?” He knelt down and wiped a tear off my cheek. Then his expression cleared and he smiled sadly. “You’re a little bit surprised to see me, I bet.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“You grew up so beautiful. That’s all your mother’s doing, of course.” He turned to look back the way he’d come, and I looked with him. There, at the end of the boat, I saw my mother, sitting in a chair with a book and a cold soda. She looked over at us, sliding her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose.
“Is she awake?”
“Yep,” he called to her.
She set down her things and picked her way over to us, looking young, thin—beautiful, even. Like they’d been frozen in time from when I was five years old.
“What’s going on?” I asked, waiting for them to keel over dead or start talking in demonic voices. They looked at each other and back at me.
“We’re going fishing,” my dad said. “Like we do always do.”
“Mom never came with us.”
“I came a few times, when you were younger,” she explained. “You two always seemed to enjoy it more than I did.”
I looked at my dad. He was thirty, maybe thirty-five, with laugh lines and boyishly tousled hair. He looked so … alive.
“Come on, Cait; let’s fish.”
He grabbed my hands and pulled me up. My mom smiled encouragingly and went back to her chair and her book. Still somewhat bewildered, I followed him over to the rail where two chairs were set with fishing poles.
“It’s so good to see you, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “Did you miss me?”
I took in a shaky breath. “Yes.”
He looked out over the water and swallowed. “I’m sorry about the way I left. There was nothing I could have done, but still, I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t take it anymore; I let my pole drop against the deck and flung myself onto his lap. He wrapped his arms tightly around me.
“It’s okay, Caitlin,” he murmured as I cried into his shirt.
“No, it’s not,” I sobbed. “I grew up without you.”
He didn’t reply, just tightened his hold on me as the sun played in golden waves over the lake. I felt exhausted and heavy, like all my mass had settled to one side of my body, pinning me with gravity.
“Caitlin,” he said quietly, “I wanted more than anything to live. To be with you and your mom and see you grow up, because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. But it doesn’t work that way. I couldn’t come back.”
My lips trembled as a few more tears trailed down my cheek. “Why not?”
He kissed my forehead, but didn’t say anything.
I closed my eyes and listened to the steady beat of my father’s heart. He seemed so real.
“You’re exhausted,” he said finally. “Why don’t you sleep?” I started to protest, but he hushed me. “I’m right here. It’s okay.”
He smiled, so I smiled and laid my head down again and closed my eyes, and soon the sun and the waves rocked me to sleep.
When I woke up (which was a weird thing to do in a dream), the sun was gone, and the stars were out. I stretched and murmured incoherently.
“What time is it?” I asked with a little yawn.
“Almost midnight.”
I froze.
No.
I looked up slowly and saw that the arms that were holding me did not belong to my dad. They belonged to Adrian.
“No,” I whimpered.
He looked sad. “I’m sorry, Caitlin. Your dad had to go.”
“Please bring him back,” I begged.