“I’m not afraid,” Garrett protested.
His father cut him off sharply. “You can’t even admit it to yourself, can you?”
The disappointment in his tone was unmistakable. “You know, Garrett, when your mom died, I made excuses, too. Over the years, I told myself all sorts of things. And you wanna know where it got me?”
He stared at his son. “I’m old and tired, and most of all, I’m alone. If I could go back in time, I’d change a lot about myself, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you do the same things I did.”
Jeb paused before going on, his tone softening. “I was wrong, Garrett. I was wrong not to try to find someone else. I was wrong to feel guilty about your mom. I was wrong to keep living my life the way I did, always suffering inside and wondering what she would have thought. Because you know what? I think your mom would have wanted me to find someone else. Your mom would have wanted me to be happy. And you know why?”
Garrett didn’t answer.
“because she loved me. And if you think that you’re showing your love to Catherine by suffering the way you’ve been doing, then somewhere along the way, I must have messed up in raising you.”
“You didn’t mess up. . . .”
“I must have. Because when I look at you, I see myself, and to be honest, I’d rather see someone different. I’d like to see someone who learned that it’s okay to go on, that it’s okay to find someone that can make you happy. But right now, it’s like I’m looking in the mirror and seeing myself twenty years ago.”
* * *
Garrett spent the rest of the afternoon alone, walking on the beach, thinking about what his father had said. Looking back, he knew he’d been dishonest from the start of the conversation and wasn’t surprised that his father had figured it out. Why, then, had he wanted to talk to him? Had he wanted his father to confront him as he had?
As the afternoon wore on, his depression gave way to confusion, then to a sort of numbness. By the time he called Theresa later in the evening, the feelings of betrayal he’d felt as a result of the dream had subsided enough to speak with her. They were still there, though not as strong, and when she answered the phone, he felt them diminish even further. The sound of her voice reminded him of the way he felt when they were together.
“I’m glad you called,” she said cheerfully, “I thought a lot about you today.”
“I thought about you, too,” he said. “I wish you were here right now.”
“Are you okay? You sound a little down.”
“I’m fine. . . . Just lonely that’s all. How was your day?”
“typical. too much to do at work, too much to do at home. But it’s better now that I’ve heard from you.”
Garrett smiled. “Is Kevin around?”
“He’s in his room reading a book about scuba diving. He tells me he wants to be a dive instructor when he grows up.”
“Where could he have gotten that idea?”
“I haven’t the slightest,” she said, amusement in her tone. “How about you? What did you do today?”
“Not much, actually. I didn’t go into the shop—I sort of took the day off and wandered the beaches.”
“Dreaming about me, I hope?”
The irony of her comment was not lost on him. He didn’t answer directly.
“I just really missed you today.”
“I’ve only been gone a few days,” she said gently.
“I know. And speaking of that, when will we get to see each other again?”
Theresa sat at the dining room table and glanced at her Day-Timer.
“Umm . . . how about in three weeks? I was thinking that maybe you could come up here this time. Kevin has a week-long soccer camp, and we’d be able to spend some time alone.”
“Would you like to come down here instead?”
“It would be better if you came up here, if that’s okay. I’m running low on vacation days, and I think we’d be able to work around my schedule. And besides, I think it’s about time you got out of North Carolina, just so you can see what the rest of the country has to offer.”
As she spoke, he found himself staring at Catherine’s picture on the nightstand. it took him a few seconds to respond. “Sure . . . I guess I could do that.”
“You don’t sound too sure about it.”
“I am.”
“Is there something else, then?”
“No.”
She paused uncertainly. “Are you really okay, Garrett?”
* * *
It took him a few days and several phone calls to Theresa to feel somewhat normal again. More than once he found himself calling her late in the evening, just to hear her voice.
“Hey,” he’d say, “it’s me again.”
“Hi, Garrett, what’s up?” she’d ask sleepily.
“Not much. I just wanted to say good night before you crawled into bed.”
“I’m already in bed.”
“What time is it?”
She glanced toward the clock. “Almost midnight.”
“Why are you awake? You should be sleeping,” he’d tease, and then he’d let her hang up the phone so she could get her rest.
Sometimes, if he couldn’t sleep, he’d think about his week with Theresa, remembering how good her skin felt to his touch, overwhelmed by his desire to hold her again.
Then, walking into the bedroom, he’d see Catherine’s picture by his bed. And at that moment the dream would rush forward with crystal clarity.
He knew he was still unsettled by the dream. In the past he would have written a letter to Catherine to help him get it into perspective. Then, taking Happenstance out on the same route he and catherine had sailed for the first time after Happenstance had been restored, he’d seal it and toss it into the ocean.
Strangely, he wasn’t able to do it this time. When he sat down to write, the words simply wouldn’t come. Finally growing frustrated, he willed himself to remember, instead.
“Now there’s a surprise,” Garrett said as he pointed at Catherine’s plate. On it, she was piling spinach salad from the buffet in front of them.
Catherine shrugged dismissively. “What’s wrong with wanting a salad?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it,” he said quickly. “It’s just that this is the third time you’ve eaten it this week.”
“I know. I’ve just been craving it. I don’t know why.”
“If you keep eating it like you do, you’re going to turn into a rabbit.”
She laughed and poured on the salad dressing. “If that were the case,” she said, looking at his plate, “if you keep eating that seafood, you’ll turn into a shark.”
“I am a shark,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“You may be a shark, but if you keep teasing me, you’ll never get the chance to prove it with me.”
He smiled. “Why don’t I prove it this weekend?”
“When? You’ll be working this weekend.”
“Not this weekend. Believe it or not, I’ve cleared my schedule so that we can spend some time together. We haven’t spent a whole weekend alone since I don’t know when.”
“What did you have in mind?”