I trotted down the stairs and got into my car. Helen knocked on the passenger window. When I unlocked the door, she opened it and leaned in. “Um, this is weird, but can I ride with you? We’re still friends, right?”
“Of course you can, and of course we are. Get in.” As she got in, I reached over and caught her and hugged her to my body. “I love you, Helen. You’re an awesome person.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered with emotion.
“Well, the ocean calls. Let’s hit it.”
On the way to the marina, without shedding a single tear, I told Helen about the last month of Adam’s life. I told her about learning to sail and what he had given me. She cried through most of the story.
“You’re a widow,” she said.
“I am.”
“You seem different.”
I kept my eyes on the road. “This isn’t some existential crisis, Helen. This was just about me not taking responsibility before. Doing things for the wrong reasons, not being able to make decisions. Having no drive to travel, to see the world, to continue learning. Everything I did in the past was safe. The guys I dated were emotionally unavailable to me, and that meant safety.”
“Your parents would argue that Adam was the most extreme example of a person who is unavailable.”
“I know you think that, too, but you’re all wrong. Adam gave everything he had.”
“He was dying, Charlotte.”
“No, he was living.” I glanced at her pointedly and then put my focus back on the road.
It was silent in the car the rest of the way until we pulled into the marina parking lot. “Seth was available but you sabotaged that,” Helen added quietly.
I put the car in park and turned my body toward her to look her in the face. “Did I? Did I sabotage a relationship with Seth? Is that what he told you?”
“Not exactly.”
“Do you think you’re being selfish right now, Helen? You want me to get with Seth so you, me, Seth, and Roddy can bounce around together?”
“No.”
“Good, because I’m not ready to be in a relationship with someone else right now. Is that going to affect the friendship you and I have? Because it shouldn’t.”
She looked down at her lap to her fidgeting hands.
“What is it, Helen?”
“I don’t want to be selfish right now, Charlotte.” Her voice cracked.
“Do you want to tell me something about Seth?”
She shook her head. “It’s not Seth.”
She bent and grabbed her purse from the car floor. She opened a little box, pulled out a ring, and slid it on her ring finger. “He asked me,” she said, looking out the window to avoid my gaze. “I didn’t want you to see it and get sad.”
I took her hand in mine and stared at the modest diamond. “I’m not sad. I’m happy for you. The ring is beautiful and you’re going to be a stunning bride, Helen. Congratulations.”
When her eyes met mine, I watched tears spill onto her cheeks. “Will you be my maid of honor?”
“Of course. I would love to. I’d be honored.” I was holding up strong when my parents pulled into the parking space next to us.
“Have you set a date?” I asked Helen.
“Valentine’s Day. We wanted to do it before preseason starts. We’re gonna do a destination wedding, somewhere tropical. Maybe Bora-Bora.”
“That would be amazing. I can’t wait.” I truly meant it.
Her smile faded and she shook her head. “Okay, Charlotte. I’m going to roll with this new version of you, but I don’t think your dad is going to be that easy.”
My mom was waiting patiently on the sidewalk, but my dad looked irritated. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was scowling.
“I’ll have to change his mind,” I said.
I found the beautiful sailing vessel, appropriately named Heaven, sitting serenly in slip 23. A caretaker nearby spotted me and asked if I was Charlotte. He gave me all the necessary keys and details for my new boat.
“She’s a beauty,” my mom said as she ran her hand across the bow. It was true. From her smooth lines and deep blue and red lacquer to the hand-polished wood of the cockpit and the gorgeous cabin. The boat was way nicer than my apartment. The boat was nicer than most apartments.
My parents and Helen sat in the cockpit while I familiarized myself with the lines and winches. Everything was electric. Of course Adam had bought me the finest. I motored out of the marina into the harbor, all while my dad watched in awe. That’s when it finally clicked for him.
It took a total of three minutes for me to raise the mainsail and headsail. Everything was push-button.
“Char, I can’t believe this. You’re like a pro. How’d you learn?” my dad asked.
“Adam and Dr. Mark taught me,” I said, smiling. “I’ll teach you, Dad.”
I’d never been close to my dad, but in that moment, I made a deal with myself that I wouldn’t put up a wall between us anymore.
When we got out of the marina onto the open water, I set the sails for our tack, cut the engine, and then swoosh . . . that glorious sound of the wind filling the sails surrounded us in every direction.
“Wow!” my mother shouted, and then the boat heeled dramatically. She gripped the safety lines, looking panicked.
“It’s okay, Mom, it’s supposed to do that!” As the wind in the sails pushed us forward, we began gracefully skipping across the water. If the ocean were music, sailboats would be the ballerinas. I was never any good at dancing before. Maybe I didn’t know how.
“I would love for you to teach me, Char,” my dad said, standing near me at the helm.
“I will!” I said, and I meant it.
I sailed them around for an hour or so before tying the boat back up in the slip.
As the four of us stood near my beat-up car in the parking lot, my mom asked, “What’s the plan, Charlotte?”
She was concerned. This had all come out of nowhere for her. “I have one, Mom. That’s all you need to know.”
The three of them left me at the marina. I told Helen to keep in touch and to let me know as soon as she had the wedding location squared away. She told me she didn’t want a bachelorette party or a wedding shower; she just wanted me to show up on the wedding day, which was seven months away.
* * *
TWO WEEKS LATER, I was standing outside a cage at the Humane Society, staring into the sweet brown eyes of a two-year-old yellow Lab. “Hello, sweet girl.”
She wagged her tail.
I said to the young Humane Society employee, “Why doesn’t anyone want this dog?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “There are amazing dogs in here all the time that no one wants.”
“I’ll take her.”
“She has four more days here before we can adopt her out.”
Everyday I went back and took her into the play area, threw a ball for her, and brought her treats until I was able to take her home with me. I named her Dora. Yes, after Dora the Explorer. I figured if she was going to be traveling on a boat with me, she should have an appropriate name, besides a chip and all her shots.