“I can’t believe it’s been that long. What are you doing these days?” I ask.
“I’m a third grade teacher in Spring Lake and I’m living in Belmar. I can’t seem to stay away from the beach,” he says.
He is a gentle soul, and it’s the perfect profession for him. I bet the kids love him. “That’s great,” I say.
“What about you? Are you still saving lives?”
Sometimes.
“I’m a neonatal intensive care nurse in Philly,” I say and don’t want to talk much more about my job.
“It takes a really special person to be a nurse,” he says and brushes my leg with his hand. “I don’t know how you do it. Last week, one of my students puked all over his desk and I almost passed out.”
I chuckle. “It’s not as hard as you think.”
“I beg to differ,” he says. “Hey, why don’t you come join us? We have lots of food and plenty to drink.”
I shake my head. “Thanks, but I’m going to head up to the house in a few minutes. I leave early tomorrow and want to get to sleep soon.”
He grins. “Want some company?” As tempting as that would have been a few years ago, I can’t bring myself to say yes. His eyes are eager and hopeful.
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
He shrugs. “Someone probably swept you off your feet years ago. I guess I’m too late.”
“Not exactly,” I say and realize the only person who’s ever swept me off my feet is Garrett.
“Looks like we have company.” He nods to my other side and another group of people are making their way down to the beach. A little girl runs toward the water, followed by a boy about half her size. They’re screeching and laughing with joy.
“Emily, Caleb! Don’t go in the water,” a woman, who I presume is their mother, calls after them. Several other people follow, and one of them waves toward us.
“Hi, Jake!” an older woman calls out. “Your parents here?” she asks.
“Hi, Becca. No, they’re not here this weekend.”
She nods and catches up with her friends. “Carly, wait up!” The group tosses blankets down.
I remember them. Becca’s family owns the house on the other side of Cassie’s. They’re older than us by at least ten years. We used to annoy them when we threw parties at Cassie’s. It almost became a sport for us to make sure our music was just a little louder than theirs. Cassie’s mom told us that Becca and her friends were notorious when they were younger, so we never felt bad about annoying the older crew. “Callie! Manny! Who has the wine?” she calls out and a tall man raises his hand, holding a large bottle of red.
The two little kids run through the surf and screech again. They must be freezing. Another man scoops them out of the water and runs to the dry sand, collapsing with them on his chest. “Daddy!” They squeal and they soon forget about the cold water.
I stand up, tucking my blanket under my arms, and pick up my chair. “It’s great seeing you again,” I say to Jake, and he looks disappointed.
“Are you sure you’re not up for some company?” he asks, persistent.
“No, not this time,” I say.
He suddenly pulls me against him into a warm, tight hug. He inhales deeply and kisses my cheek. “It’s really great seeing you again. You should give me a call sometime.”
I don’t respond as he reluctantly lets me go.
“Bye, Jake,” I say and walk up to the house, waves crashing behind me.
The house is quiet and peaceful. As appealing as it was to be invited to join the party on the beach, I just don’t have it in me to be social. I’m here for a solo retreat, and I intend to hold true to that. I see Jake run up to the bonfire and plop into the sand next to his brother. Justin pats him on the back and their laughter carries through the air.
How simple would it be to invite Jake in for the night? Where would that lead? A night of steamy, unattached sex? I don’t think I can open my bed or my heart to anyone else.
Ever again.
Garrett ruined me.
Garrett
Present
Villanova, Pennsylvania
Age 27
“ARE YOU READY, LITTLE MAN?” I ask Kai as I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
“Da-da,” he says and claps his hands. It makes me so happy that he says ‘Da-da.’ The other words he has in his repertoire are ‘ball’ and ‘bye.’ I remove him from his high chair, and crumbs fall from his lap into the seat. He’s a mess, but he doesn’t seem to care.
I carry him out the back door, down to the pool house. I’ve been trying to come out here at least every other day to swim. To relax me. To connect with her.
I place Kai in his stationary walker and make sure he has plenty of toys within reach. Now that he’s walking and is so mobile, he doesn’t enjoy playing in this as much as he used to. Peggy mentioned that I might want to set up a play yard in here, and I have yet to figure out exactly what that even is.
He’s happy for now, so I take advantage and dive into the pool. Kai plays and watches me as I swim my laps. He screeches every time I get close to him, and I make sure I kick a little harder so he gets splashed. His giggles echo throughout the large room, and they fuel my vigorous swim. He gets quiet after a while, and I notice he’s watching the large-screen television intently. Disney Junior projects through the room and just like that he’s in a television coma. Peggy insists that I limit his television watching to only an hour or less a day. Max never lets him watch television, so I don’t see the harm in it. The “Miles From Tomorrowland” song fills the room as I finish my last lap.
I’m breathing heavily as I roll onto my back and allow the pool to swallow me whole. I learned so much from Sam from the time that she spent with us, but the one thing I’ve truly come to appreciate is the art of relaxation. Floating like this slows down time for me. It allows me to reflect on things that are happening and plan for things that are coming. It clears my mind and gives me strength to live. Only my mouth and nose are outside the water, and I let the pool take me. Kai’s giggles bounce around the room as he continues to watch TV.
I close my eyes and think about how far we’ve come. A year ago, I never would have thought I’d be home with a child. An incredible one at that. The love that fills my heart is amazing, and he’s taught me so much about myself. I picture my birth father’s face, drawn and sad. For the first time, I feel sorry for him. He missed out on so many years with me and my mom. He couldn’t escape his demons and ended it all. He also stole the lives and future of two wonderful people. Two people who should be here today, witnessing the miracle of their daughter and the woman that she’s become. My father took away his own memories and chance at a future with my son, his grandson. So, yes, I pity him. I no longer hate him, because it’s not worth exhausting that kind of energy on anyone. But I pity him and the sad life that his eventually became.
I see my parents’ faces, and Bill’s warm smile erases my father’s drawn face. Bill is the type of father that I strive to be, and every day I try to be the man that he is. I hope that Kai sees this someday and appreciates me the way I appreciate Bill.
A loud clap and a screech pull me out of my meditative state. Kai’s saucer is floating in the shallow end of the pool, and my heart leaps out of my chest. He’s clapping and laughing as he floats in the water, and I reach him before it’s able to sink further. “Da-da!”
How did that happen? Holy shit!
I scoop him and his walker out of the pool and take him out of the seat, his diaper hanging low, filled with water. He’s still laughing, and I thank God this incident wasn’t worse. The play yard suddenly seems like a great idea, and I toss the stationary saucer toward the door. I need to get rid of it immediately.