“What was that now?” Mom asks like she didn’t hear Ryan quite right. “You took a kayak lesson today?” She looks at me, confused. And rightly so. This is out of left field for me. “Was this with you?” she asks, looking at Gran. “A Red Hat thing?” Gran shakes her head, and Mom looks back at me, even more confused. “Who did you go with?”
I pass her the corn platter and take the plate of hipster-market steak from Ryan, trying to sound casual about it. “It was just me, by myself. Gran and I talked yesterday about doing something like that, and so today I just—I just did it. On a whim,” I add, trying to say it like Ryan would—with enough resolve and confidence that no one questions it, never mind the fact that kayaking isn’t something I’ve ever shown any interest in. Ever. Mom used to catch all those details, but since Dad’s stroke scare, she’s been a little less astute with that kind of thing.
Either it works or it’s a story they’re all more than willing to go with anyway, because then comes a series of questions, like I’ve just returned from circumnavigating the globe rather than from a kayak lesson on the coast. Everybody talks over one another while passing food and dishing up their plates. All except Gran, who sits with a wry little smile watching the interrogation.
Dad: “Did you have a good time?”
Mom: “You didn’t get your stitches wet, did you?”
Ryan: “Was your instructor a guy?”
Dad: “Where’d you go?”
Mom: “You could get an infection that way.”
Ryan: “Was he cute? Single?”
“Wow,” I say, once they’ve all got their questions out. “It was just a kayak lesson.” It comes out sounding irritated, and I know it’s because I’m mad at myself for stretching the truth and omitting one extremely important detail of this story. Why did I have to say anything?
Mom smooths her napkin in her lap. “I’m sorry, honey. I think we’re just happy to hear that you enjoyed yourself today. It’s exciting,” she says with a smile and a little raise of her shoulders. I know she’s right, and I feel bad that me getting dressed and leaving the house is now cause for celebration.
“It’s not a big deal,” I say, more to my plate than to her, like I don’t know they watch me every day to see if this will be the one when I finally start to move on.
Gran cuts in. “What your mother’s trying to say, all BS aside, is, we’re happy to see you beginning to—”
“Carry on?” I finish with her two favorite words.
“Exactly,” she says, setting down her fork. “So my question for you, Quinn, now that the peanut gallery is finished, is, have you made plans to go again? I think you should, if you know what’s good for you. I’m old enough to know. Strike while the iron is hot.”
“Or the kayak instructor,” Ryan adds under her breath.
“Ryan,” Mom warns.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I haven’t made any definite plans.” I pause, and for a moment let myself imagine pulling up in front of Colton’s shop, walking in, and telling him I’d like another day. With him. “Maybe,” I add, and saying it out loud makes me nervous.
“Oh, don’t give me that ‘maybe’ crap,” Gran says. She takes a dainty, pinkie-raised sip from her wine glass and nods as she swallows it. “Do it tomorrow, or you never will.”
Mom gives Dad a look I know means she’s had it with her own mother, but I like it. It’s like Gran thinks I can finally handle a little tough love.
“She’s right,” Ryan says, “Why would you not?”
Why would you not?
I hear Colton saying those same words in the café, and I can think of so many reasons why I definitely should not. But they’re getting harder to hold on to, especially with my family’s reactions.
“What do you think?” my mom asks. “Why don’t you give it another try? We’re all busy tomorrow, and it’d be better than sitting in the empty house all by yourself, spending hours on the computer searching for . . .”
Searching for that heart recipient.
Everyone goes quiet for a moment, and I wonder what they would think if they actually knew. If they knew what it was they were encouraging me to do.
“It’ll be my treat,” Dad says. He raises his beer like we’re doing a toast.
I look at my family for a moment, at all the hope on their faces. Like this could be the thing that will finally snap me out of it. And I can’t say no.
“Okay, okay, I’ll go again,” I say, sounding more certain about it than I am. I’m not sure if I really intend to go kayaking again, or to see Colton again to do that, but I can drive over to Shelter Cove and spend the day at the beach and come back letting them think I’ve taken another lesson if it’ll make them happy.
“Tomorrow?” Gran asks. She arches a single brow at me, implying the answer she wants.
“Tomorrow.”
“It’s settled then,” she says with an authority no one challenges.
And just like that, we all go back to dinner as evening deepens around us out on the deck. Crickets chirp in the background, and all of Mom’s candles in their Mason jars flicker and dance as talk turns to Ryan and what her summer plans are now that she’s home. They talk about trying to get her plane tickets refunded, the possibility of her spending a year abroad at the Italian art school she’s so excited about, the safety of traveling alone in Morocco. Dad’s next checkup. Mom’s latest health fact. Gran’s next Red Hat Society meeting.