“I’m okay. I’m fine.” I struggle to get up, my hands still locked in fists and my legs coiled and ready to run.
Emery jumps off the bed and bends down to help me up.
“I’m okay, babe.” I’m more alert now, and I sit on the bed and lean against the pillows.
She sits cross-legged next to me and turns on the bedside lamp.
It’s a low light, and it casts a glow in the room.
“I won’t state the obvious and ask if that was a nightmare,” she begins. “But can I get you a glass of water?”
I put my hand on her bare leg. She’s wearing a t-shirt only, and if I weren’t in such a bad state, I’d roll her over and put my mouth between her legs.
“I have this dream,” I find myself saying. “I used to have it after my dad’s boat went down. But that was years ago, and the nightmare went away when I grew up. Until…”
I cut off, not sure I want to continue.
But Emery’s invested now. Her blue eyes widen, and her hand lightly squeezes my leg. “Until?”
“Until my latest scare,” I admit. “I’ve had close callsbefore out on the water. Every fisherman has. But this one snuck up on me. And I think that’s what made it so bad.”
“You mean the weather was worse than anticipated?”
“I mean there wasn’t supposed to be rough seas that afternoon. When we left, the ocean was calm. We were out searching for lobster when the wind just…turned. I’ve never felt that strong of a wind before. And I’ve lived in coastal Maine my entire life.”
“How did you handle it?”
“The only way I know how to handle something is to either avoid it completely or go full on. I couldn’t avoid this storm unless I wanted to lose my life and that of my crew. So, we turned in the direction of where land was supposed to be. Not that we could see it. I felt the panic setting in.”
I knew we had to turn back. I knew how dangerous the seas felt in that moment. And I knew that if I did make it back to shore safely, I would need to acknowledge something had changed within me. I could no longer live in denial.
“The worst part was that for the first time ever when I’ve been at sea, I lost my calm. Rough seas in the past? I just grew calmer. My adrenaline would kick in, and I knew I’d get us all home safely. But this time, something was different. The wind was louder. The waves were choppier. The land felt really far away.” I pause before telling her the whole truth. “I felt exactly the way I’ve always imagined my dad did the night Lucky Queen went down. The panic. The knowledge that you might not live another day. The panic,” I repeat. “And for the first time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to wake up the next morning and get back on the boat.”
Emery’s arms are around my torso now, and she kisses my bare chest. “It sounds terrifying. You must be really good at what you do to make sure you all made it back to land safely.”
I never think of myself as good at what I do. Fishing for me is in my blood. It’s not just a part of my life. Itismy life.
At least, it was.
But now? I don’t know anymore.
Emery
Before leaving our little private bubble in the remote section of Wild Ranch, Michael and I have an early cup of coffee together by the lake. He’s in good spirits this morning, and I don’t mention his nightmare. It feels good to be outside with the sun hitting our faces.
We’re chatting away when my phone rings.
“Who could this be?” I reach for my phone. “I usually get texts instead of a phone call…” I look at the screen. “Oh God. It’s my ex-boss.”
I debate whether to let it go to voicemail as Michael gestures that he’ll walk down to the lake to give me privacy.
Oh, fuck it.
“Hello, Fred.”
“Hello, Emery. How are you?”
I certainly haven’t missed that nasally tone with more than a hint of arrogance in it. But I admit that I’m curious why he’s calling me.
