“I can’t do it,” he panted, flipping onto his back to ward off exhaustion. The bravado he’d shown moments earlier was gone, and now the clear beginnings of panic weretakinghold.
“Yes, you can,” Dadencouraged.
“NO, I CAN’T!” Anger intensified every word. “I walk like a gimp. I can’t swim. I can’t go to school. I’m fourteen and can’t go out by myself and… and I can’t even take my shirt off at a fuckingbeach.”
His outburst silenced us all. Jake’s frustration and anger was justified, especially today, but we were now in a perilous situation, floating in the middle of the ocean with a kid who clearly needed help but refused toacceptit.
“I get it,” Dad said, his voice aching in emotion. “I do. What happened was awful – I mean, really truly awful – and I know how hard it’s been for you. I wish I could take away every bit of your pain, but I can’t. This terrible thing happened to you, and now you’ve got no choice but to deal with it, Jake. So this is what’s going to happen. This is where the self-pity ends. You’re going to take back control, starting right now. You’re going to calm yourself down, catch your breath, and then turn over and swim to the goddamn platform. No moreexcuses.”
The firm tone in Dad’s uncompromising demand seemed to have the desired effect on Jake, and he did exactly as he was told. When the tip of his first finger touched the platform, we erupted in cheers. Keith grabbed Jake by the waist and swung him around. Dad tousled his sodden hair. I patted him on the back, and Kyle, already up on the plank, offered his hand to the brother headored.
We spent the next hour on that bobbing plank, all five of us jumping and doing flips into the ocean until we’d worn ourselves out, and then plopped onto our backs on the crusty surface, gazing up at the cloudless sky. It was a rare moment of peace, and I savored it. The solidarity I felt with my family was absolute. I knew, at that instant, out on the platform, I’d do anything for them and theyforme.
As if to prove the point of our family bond, Keith said, “Take off the swim shirt, Jake. Let us have a look at the scars, and then it will be done and over with. That will be one thing you can check off your list ofcan’ts. Well, that andIcan’tswim.”
To my surprise, Jake didn’t shoot down the request straight off or strike back in an aggressive way. He just lay there in deep thought, perhaps deciding whether he’d trust us enough to reveal something so intensely personal. Just when I thought he would ignore Keith altogether, Jake sat up and pulled the shirt overhishead.
The rest of us immediately shot up into a seated position but were careful to seek Jake’s approval before taking a peek. He met the eyes of each of us before wordlessly nodding. Dad grasped his arm, in a show of fatherly pride, as the rest of us circled around and got our first look at the scars Jake had spent so much time safeguarding. The skin was still raised and red in some areas but fading in others. Truthfully, it wasn’t as bad as I’d been expecting after all the buildup. Perhaps fearing our reaction, Jake sat with his shoulders slumped forward, cradling the shirt in his arms, and scrunching his eyes tightlyclosed.
My brothers and I exchanged dismayed glances before getting hold of our emotions. Instinctively we understood that how we handled this moment would define our relationship with him from that dayforward.
“Okay, done,” Keith said. “Thanks for showing us. You ready foraswim?”
Jake kepthis shirt off the remainder of the afternoon, and his and Dad’s farmer tans were quickly fading as a bronzed glow began to take form. The dark circles under his eyes brightened, and he even seemed to stand up a little straighter. The real surprise came when he managed to keep his composure when Gracie gasped in shock at the sight of his marked back. Instead of snapping at her, Jake calmly related that he’d been injured and those were the scars that remained. Whatever had happened out in that water seemed to have had a profound impact on him. It was as if he’d come to some sort of compromise with himself. And hopefully, just hopefully, that meant he’d decided to give lifeanothershot.
Later that night,the four of us stayed up late watching a movie on TV and talking. It had been a long time since we’d felt that level of comfort with each other. Our voices must have carried into the other room as Gracie came out dragging her blanketbehindher.
“Emma,” she groggily whispered. “Buildthetent.”
“We don’t need itanymore.”
“Yes, I do,” shewhined.
“When we get home. I can’t buildithere.”
“Why can’t you?” Jakeasked.
“Well, I don’t know. I guess we could.” I smiled at him, rapidly coming to the conclusion that this was actually an awesome idea. “Keith, strip the sofa bed. Kyle, fetch some pillows. Jake, we needsnacks.”
As the boys brought the necessary items, I built a bed tent three times bigger than at home. Not to brag, but it was a masterpiece of entwined sheets, with socks used to tie them in place. Once it was retrofitted to accommodate six, we piled in, Keith cradling a still barely awake Quinn. And there we stayed, talking, snacking, and bonding like we had so very long ago. At one point, Grace sidled up to Jake and wrapped her little arms around his. Surprised by her touch, he flinched, yanking his arm back. My sister immediately crawled away, frightened of himoncemore.
“Sorry,” Jake apologized. “I didn’t mean that. Give me another chance.” He opened his arms to her. Grace looked to me for guidance. I nodded, smiling my encouragement, and she went to him, tentatively propping herself up next to him. Jake lay his arm over her shoulder, and she shyly peered up at him, her face filledwithjoy.
Whispers could be heard from outside the protective zone, and we all suddenly sealed our mouths shut.Busted. Mom and Dad would not be pleased. It was well past one in the morning, and we had Grace and Quinn out of bed. I couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped my mouth, and Quinn flung himself into my arms laughing so hard the sheets shook. Suddenly the faces of our parents appeared in the opening, both sporting amusedsmiles.
“Is there room fortwomore?”
26
Emma, Present Day:FamilyUnit
Waking with a start,my head swiveled to the bassinet beside the bed. She was gone. My groggy heart roared to life as I tore the covers off and gripped the sides of her bed. Instantly, the panic eased. Darwin, the shark-turtle stuffed animal, was lying in the place our daughter normally slept. It was Finn’s way of easing my anxiety and letting me know that he had her. Sinking back onto the bed, I took a few deep breaths and covered myself back up with thesheets.
Although thankfully not a daily occurrence, these morning freak-outs were frequent enough that Finn and I had a plan in place to combat them. I was slowly resolving myself to the fact that I would need help to move past my fears. My daughter deserved a mother who was relaxed and didn’t hover over her day and night. I wanted to be young and fun and allow my daughter to grow by doing and laughing and feeling. In other words, I wanted tobeFinn.
If ever there was a man made to be a father, it was he. There was no adjustment period or postpartum pouting from that guy. In fact, his only parenting lapse was the surgical masks he wore when changing the baby’s diaper. No matter, our daughter adored him with or without the protective covering, and though she was only three months of age, he already lit up her world as much as hedidmine.
I heard his footsteps coming down the hall, and unbelievable happiness revived my tired body. Never could I have imagined the joy this life would bring me. Finn crossed under the doorframe cradling our daughter inhisarms.
