Page 187 of Merciless Daddy

He moved nearer. Still no touch.

The sea lifted us and lowered us. My body wanted to fight it. To stay upright. To keep every muscle ready.

“Try floating,” Sal said.

“I am floating.”

“It looks like you are conducting a military operation against the ocean.”

“Well look, it’s the one that declared war on me, with all these waves. It’s an offensive action, and I’m allowed to retaliate.”

That made him laugh.

Then he came behind me, close enough that I felt warmth at my back.

“May I support you?” he asked.

“Yes.”

His palm slid beneath my shoulders. Broad. Steady. Nothing else held me. His other hand remained visible in the water beside us.

“Lean back,” he said.

“I hate this.”

“I know.”

“I could drown.”

“You could. But you won’t. I’m here.”

The blunt truth settled me more than reassurance would have.

I leaned back.

The sky opened above me. Blue without end. Sunlight warmed my face. My ears filled with the soft movement of water.

Sal’s palm remained beneath my shoulders.

“You may let it carry you,” he said.

I breathed in. Then out.

For one frightening, perfect second, I stopped fighting the water.

The sea held me. He held me. Life happened.

Later, we took a small sailboat around the island. Sal let me hold the line, which I did badly on purpose until he stood behind me and corrected my grip with his hands over mine.

“You are enjoying this,” I accused.

“Very much.”

We ate lunch on an empty beach where the sand was pink near the rocks. Bread. Cheese. Cold chicken. Mango. Sal spread a blanket beneath the shade and handed me a slim black notebook.

A firebird was embossed in gold on the cover.

“What is this?” I asked.