“I don’t have sea legs,” I told her as the boat swayed and I went with it. I grabbed the bar, pressing my cane hard into the ground, and glanced at the seat I was going to take, but I didn’t want to sit after the long flight. My back was still in pain, and in the cold, I swore I could feel the pins still holding me together.
“It takes some getting used to,” she said.
I glanced at her name tag. Violet. A good name for a song. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get that lucky. But I like the feeling of the boat moving. It’s like being rocked in a cradle.”
Violet laughed softly. “Yeah. So. Um…” She twisted her fingers together. “Actually, I should get back to the counter.”
“You can ask,” I told her as she took a step away.
She hesitated and looked at my legs again.
“I was hurt. The car accident banged up my spine pretty bad.” I didn’t tell her I had a set of leg braces helping me to stand as straight as I was right now. Or that I was regretting not bringing my wheelchair. “I’m okay though.”
“But you…you really left, right?Them, I mean.” It was like she didn’t want to say the band name, like maybe it would sting too much, and there was a tiny piece of me that appreciated her for it.
“I decided it was better to be on my own.”
She took a breath, then shrugged. “I was a huge fan. But it was your music that meant something. It, um…” She swallowed. “It saved me. I know that sounds nuts, but?—”
She wasn’t the first person to tell me my music had saved her. I’d heard a thousand different variations of those words over theyears. But sometimes people said them because they wanted to see if it would have an effect on me.
And some people said them because my lyrics and the band’s notes hit the right way at the right time and took someone back from the edge.
“No,” I told her. “We all have the stuff that keeps us from those ugly, dark places. Trust me, I’m a little too familiar.”
“What’s your thing?”
Mine wasn’t a thing. It was a person. A man. A stranger whose name I couldn’t remember.
I smiled and conjured the face of my angel EMT. “Dark eyes. Freckles right here.” I brushed my finger under my left eye. “The way he said the words ‘I promise’ like he wanted it to mean something instead of the bullshit people tell you just to make you happy.” I knew my words made no sense to her, but something in her eyes told me she still understood.
“See you later?” I asked.
She smiled and nodded. “Thanks for being cool. And I won’t tell anyone I saw you.”
I wasn’t going to ask her to do that. I didn’t trust people anyway, so I wouldn’t have believed her, but she seemed honest. She seemed like she cared, and I wasn’t done hoping that in the world, the good could still outweigh the bad.
“It was nice to meet you, Violet.”
“You too. I hope you have a nice trip.” And then she was gone, and I finally sat, my gaze fixing back out on the ocean, growing closer to my destination with every second that ticked by.
This was going to be a long journey, but something in my gut told me that in the end, however it turned out, this was going to be worth it.
Seven
RYAN
“Welcometo the Winds on Pierce Island. Is this your first time with us?”
I blinked at the woman behind the desk, and it took me a moment to process her words. I was ravaged by jet lag and the stress of sleeping through my alarm and missing the fucking ferry. I was now a day late and had made a panicked call to the hotel, who said they couldn’t keep my room, but they could book me another one.
It was more expensive, but what the hell was I going to do if I didn’t take it? I wasn’t going home. Not this year. Not after…well…everything.
She cleared her throat, and I realized I’d been staring for way too long.
“Sorry. Um…no. No, it isn’t. My family—” I stopped myself. She didn’t need that disaster story. I slapped my ID and credit card on the counter. “I usually come with my family. But it’s been a while.”
Her face softened, and she stopped looking like she was waiting for me to go full Karen on her. “Welcome back, Mr. Cook.”
