“You’re his mother,” Dennis interrupted me. “Your expertise doesn’t count.”
One night a few years earlier, I woke up and saw Jamie sitting on the edge of my bed. I was probably dreaming—it had happened a few times before—but it felt so real. He sat there in jeans and a blue T-shirt, his empathy tattoo as big as life. I wasn’t afraid. I was happy to see him. He spoke to me, although his lips didn’t move. He said, You’re a fighter, Laurie. You’re the champ.
I had thought about that dream—or whatever it was—often since that night. Every time I faced a challenge, I thought of his words. Words he’d never said to me when he was alive, but that I could imagine him saying. I’d had more than my share of challenges, that was for sure. Now, though, I was facing the biggest challenge of my life, and I was going to fight with all my power to keep Andy out of jail.
So if my expertise didn’t count, I would find someone whose expertise did. I was fired up. I’d find someone with experience testifying in court cases for people with FASD. I went online and, through my network of FASD parents around the country, found the name of a neurologist in Raleigh. I called his office and set up an appointment to meet with him the next day. He suggested that at this point, I come alone but bring Andy’s medical and psychological records with me. If the case actually went to trial, then he would do a thorough evaluation of Andy. For now, he would give me ammunition to share with Dennis that might prevent Andy from being bound over to the adult system. I cried with relief when I got off the phone. He was optimistic, and his optimism gave me hope.
I made arrangements for Andy to spend the next day with the mother of one of his swim team members. Ben had convinced me that Andy should stay on the team, and I appreciated his willingness to deal with whatever repercussions arose from that decision. Andy didn’t understand why he wasn’t going to school; taking him away from the swim team he loved would leave him more confused than he already was.
I tucked him into bed that night and told him about the plans for the next day.
“I have to go out of town tomorrow,” I said, “so you’ll—”
“To make a fetal alcohol speech?”
“No.” I smiled. “Not this time. I’m just going to Raleigh for the day. So you’ll stay at Tyler’s house with his mom, and—”
“Will Tyler be there?”
“He’ll beat school, so you’ll take your books with you and—”
“Can I take my iPod?”
“Yes, but I want you to do some reading and that math we talked about, okay? I marked it in your book. And I’ll tell Tyler’s mother so she’ll be watching to be sure you do it.”
“Can I have lunch?”
“Tyler’s mom will make you lunch. Then after school, she’ll take you and Tyler to swim team practice and Maggie will pick you up afterward.”
“Tyler’s not a good swimmer.”
“No?”
“Even though Ben explains things good.”
“Well,” I said. “Ben explains things well.”
“Ben said if I work hard, I can be a top swimmer.”
“I think you already are a top swimmer.”
“No, Mom. Not just a top Pirate swimmer. A top swimmer of all time. A champion.”
I ran my hand over his curly hair. “What a wonderful aspiration,” I said.
Andy yawned. “What’s a ‘aspration’?” He rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes. My sleepy boy.
“A goal. You know, how we have your goal chart?”
“Uh-huh.” He shut his eyes.
“I love you,” I said.
“Mmm.” He was already breathing steadily, a tiny smile on his lips.
I watched him for a few minutes, biting back tears. Then I leaned over, whispered in his ear, “You’re a fighter, sweetie,” I said. “You’re already a champ.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Marcus
THE BOAT IS TOO SMALL FOR SUCH A ROUGHday on the ocean. I realize that as soon as we pass through the inlet into open water. A monster yellow boat the size and shape of a school bus passes us. We rise high on its wake, then plunge down in the gully, water pouring over us. For a moment, I’m afraid, but when Jamie starts to laugh, peeling his wet T-shirt over his head, I relax and laugh with him. I open the throttle, and the nose of my boat rises as we speed across the water.
“Look!” Jamie’s eyes are wide and he’s pointing to the east. I turn my head to see a pod of jet-black whales, all in a row, all spouting at the same time. Like a drawing in a children’s book.
“God’s swimming with us!” Jamie says.
I woke up from the dream gasping for breath, like I always did, even though I’d managed to wake up before the bad part. My heart hammered in my chest. For nearly ten years, that dream had dogged me. I got out of bed to shake it off. Was I going to have that damn dream for the rest of my life? I doubted my heart could take it.
In the bathroom, I splashed water on my face. If I went right back to bed, the dream would turn into the nightmare. No way I was letting that happen.
I got on the computer and started playing Freecell, but my mind was muddy. I stared at the cards until they blended together. Closed my eyes.
I could have changed the outcome that day. I could have suggested we take the boat into the sound instead of the ocean. Go in the afternoon instead of the morning. I could have bought the boat the week before or the week after. It wasn’t the first time I’d made myself crazy thinking about the what-ifs.
The day before the accident, I’d picked up Laurel at the airport and asked her the question that had been in my mind for months: was there a chance for us? She’d given me her answer and I was determined to live with it. I had to. I dropped her off at The Sea Tender, but Jamie came out before I pulled away.
“Hey.” He got in on the passenger side. His hair was wet from a shower or a swim. “Do you have time to hang out later today?” he asked. “Just with me, I mean.”
Weird request, but that didn’t register. All I could think about was that I didn’t want to spend time with him right then. Not after the conversation I’d just had with Laurel.
“How about tomorrow?” I asked. “You have the day off, right?”
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll call you in the morning.”
“You can help me christen the new boat,” I suggested.
“Whatever.” He looked toward The Sea Tender, then got out of the pickup.
When I called at sunrise the next day, I expected him to balk at the early hour. He liked sleeping in on his days off. But he sounded like he couldn’t wait to go out on the new boat. That should have tipped me off right there.
We met at the boat docks and I could tell something was up. Forced smile. Kept his hands in his shorts pockets as he admired the boat. He asked me questions about her, but I knew he wasn’t listening to my answers. Just the early hour, I told myself. He wasn’t awake yet.
I jumped into the boat with a thermos of coffee and a couple of foam cups, and he followed. “I wanted something small enough to maneuver well, but large enough to fit all of us,” I said. In my imagination, I’d pictured Laurel and the kids with me in the boat while Jamie worked. I was one hell of a brother.
I sank into the cushy seat at the helm. “Coffee?” I held the thermos out to him as he sat down in the front passenger seat. He shook his head, still smiling that not-quite-real smile.
“You okay?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “A little preoccupied,” he admitted. “So!” He motioned to the boat. “Show me what she’s got.”
“You game for the ocean?” I asked as we pulled away from the pier. I’d already cruised the sound and the Intracoastal Waterway. I wanted to see how she handled in the open water.
“Sure.” He adjusted his sunglasses. “Got a name for her yet?”
I’d thought about naming her Laurel. Seriously. I was such a fool.
“Maybe Maggie,” I said.
“Cool,” said Jamie. “She’d love having a boat
named after her.”
In a few minutes, we were cruising through the inlet. I felt a thrill, as I always did, when I saw the open sea in front of us. So wide, I swore I could see the curvature of the earth. How I’d survived four years in the mountains, I didn’t know.
As we sailed into the ocean from the inlet, a massive ship appeared out of nowhere. Materialized from thin air. Steamed past us with a killer blast from its horn. I tightened my hands on the wheel as we headed straight into its wake.
“Holy shit!” I said, as we climbed the first swell.
“Hang on!” Jamie shouted. Like he needed to tell me.
We crested the wave, dropping like a stone on the other side of it, and the next wave was on us before we recovered. It tore off my sunglasses, blinding me with a wall of water and nearly swamping the boat. I hung on to the wheel. Jamie let out a whoop like he was riding a bucking bull.
Two more waves, and then finally, the worst was over. I turned to see Jamie laugh as he peeled off his sopping wet T-shirt. He took off his sunglasses, looking around, I guessed, for something to dry them with. “I couldn’t see a damn thing,” he said.
“No shit,” I said, able to laugh now myself. “And I lost my frickin’ sunglasses.”
He propped his own sunglasses on top of his head. Wrung his T-shirt out over the side of the boat. “Well, your boat handled well,” he said.
“Thought I might lose her there for a minute.”
We sailed into the sea, and I opened the throttle wide. After a while, Jamie cleaned his sunglasses with his damp T-shirt. Slipped them back on his face. Then he pointed south.
“Is that a whale?” He had to shout for me to hear him over the roar of the engine.
“Where?” The surface of the water was calm.
“He’s gone under.”
“Can’t be a whale!” I shouted. “Not the season.”
“You’re right,” he said. “Sure looked like one, though.”
We soared across the water. “Is this baby smooth or what?” I shouted.
“She’s great!”
She was dynamite. We were flying.
“There he is again!” Jamie pointed. “We’re practically on top of him.”
I saw him this time. Couldn’t miss him. He breached just south of us, a thirty- or forty-thousand-ton mountain shooting straight up from the sea, then slipping back into the water.
“Holy…” I slowed the boat, and we scanned the water to find him again. “I don’t believe it. It’s June!” You’d see hump backs in December or January as they headed south, and in the spring as they returned north. But late June?
I heard the pop of the whale’s blow spout and turned to see a fountain of water spray into the air not twenty yards away. Then the massive tail rose in the air like a great bird, wings spread above the water. The tail thwacked the surface as he dove under again. I throttled back the engine until we were simply drifting.
“Is he alone, do you think?” Jamie nearly whispered.
“I have no idea,” I said. “Should’ve brought my camera. No one’s going to believe this.”
The whale suddenly breached a second time, rocketing toward the sky in front of us.
“Is that the same one?” Jamie asked.
“I don’t know, but damn! That’s one big Mama Jama!” And too damn close for comfort. I’d seen whales up close before. Close enough to scratch their backs with a net from a fishing charter. This was different. This guy dwarfed us. Dwarfed my boat. I could imagine Jonah setting up house in his belly.
“How can anyone see this and not feel God’s presence?” Jamie asked.
I didn’t answer. I’d found my own higher power through AA, but Jamie’s God and mine were not the same.
The whale slipped underwater again. We waited a few more minutes, swiveling our heads left and right for the next sign of him. He was gone.
I reached for the throttle.
“Wait,” Jamie said. “Let’s sit here a while longer.”
“I think he’s gone.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I want to talk to you, though.”
I let go of the throttle. Shit. Had Laurel told him about our conversation?
“I’ll take some of that coffee now,” he said.
I handed him the thermos and a cup. Watched him pour. His hand had a tremor, but so did mine after our close encounter with Moby Dick.
He took a sip of the coffee, then blew out his breath. “Damn, bro,” he said, “this is hard to say.”
I wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve made a hard decision.” His sunglasses masked his eyes, but I knew he was looking right at me. “It’s selfish. Really selfish. And I’m gonna need your help, bro.”
I relaxed. No way this was about Laurel and me. “Anything, Jamie,” I said.
He looked toward where we’d last seen the whale. “I’m going to ask Laurel for a divorce,” he said.
The muscles around my heart squeezed so tight that I rubbed my hand across my chest. “What are you talking about?”
“I know it’s a shocker,” Jamie said. “You probably think I’m crazy. Like I have the best marriage going and why would I screw it up?”
“Exactly,” I said. “You’re…I don’t know anyone more into his family than you.”
He reached beneath his sunglasses with his thumb and forefinger. Maybe rubbing tears away. I couldn’t tell. “I love her, but it’s like loving a friend,” he said. “It’s been that way for a long time. When she was in rehab, I started feeling different about her. It’s not fair, I know. What happened wasn’t her fault, and I kept hoping the old feelings would come back, but—” He shook his head.
“How can you not love her?” He was crazy. How could he want to leave her? And wasn’t that what I’d wanted only twenty-four hours ago? No. It wasn’t. I’d wanted Laurel to ask him for a divorce. I wanted her to be the one calling the shots. Not the one getting hurt.
“I’m not sure how to tell her,” Jamie said. “I don’t want to hurt her more than I have to.”
“Is that a question?” I asked. “Because if it is, the answer is, there’s no way you won’t be killing her.” I wanted to tell him how she’d turned me down out of her devotion to him. I wanted to rub his face in it.
“I know,” Jamie said. “And I’m sorry to lay this on you. I wanted you to hear it from me first, though, because they’re going to need you. You care so much about her and the kids. They’ll need to lean on you for a while.”
A couple of gulls flew overhead. I watched one of them dart to the surface of the water, then glide into the air again with a small fish in its mouth like it took no effort at all.
“This is unbelievable,” I said. “I mean, so you tell her and then what? You move away? Go to California to start a new life or what?”
“You’re pissed,” he said.
“Just…I don’t get it.”
“Yeah, I don’t blame you.” He blew out his breath again. His jugular pounded beneath the damp skin of his throat. “Look,” he said, “here’s the truth, all right? I’m in love with someone else.”
I wished I could see his eyes behind the dark lenses. “You’ve been cheating on Laurel?”
“That’s an ugly word.”
I laughed. “You got a better one?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Well, why don’t you tell me what it’s like then.” I folded my arms across my chest, suddenly the nobler of the two sons of bitches in my boat.
“I shouldn’t have told you.”
I didn’t want him to stop talking. I needed to know everything. “You can’t blame me for being pissed,” I said. “You’re not Jamie anymore. You’re somebody else.”
“It’s Sara,” he said.
His words hung in the air for a few seconds before they sank in. “Oh, nice,” I said. “You pick your wife’s best friend.”
“It wasn’t…that isn’t how it happened.” He lifted his damp
T-shirt from the bottom of the boat and wiped his forehead with it. “I lived with Sara and Steve back when Maggie was little, remember? I fell for her then. We clicked. Laurel was such a mess and Sara was…Her marriage wasn’t so great and Steve was gone a lot. We needed each other.”
“That was a long time ago,” I said. “This has been going on all these years?”
“No. At least not physically. Once Laurel got pregnant with Andy and I moved back into The Sea Tender, it was over with Sara as far as I was concerned. But it’s one thing to say something’s over and another to feel it.” He rubbed his chin. “Sara’s been great.” A smile curled his lips. I wanted to smack it off his face. “She always told me it’s up to me what happens. During the last few months, I realized I’ve been living a lie, pretending I love Laurel, telling her I love her when I don’t. Living a lie isn’t fair to anyone.”
“You son of a bitch. You’re just going to walk out on your kids?”
“I’d never do that,” Jamie said quickly. “That’s why we’ll stay here. Either on the island or maybe inland. We’re thinking of Hampstead. That way I can still be a part of Andy and Maggie’s lives but Laurel won’t be tripping over me at the grocery store. I’ll always provide for them,” he added. “For Laurel, too.”
I really wanted to hit him. When we were kids, I’d try to beat him up and he always won. He had the brawn and the years on me. Now, though, I had the anger. I could take him down if I tried.
“Marcus.” He spoke in the quiet, calm voice that echoed in his chapel on Sunday mornings. “Look at me.”
I did, my lips pressed together so tightly they hurt.
“I have another child to provide for,” he said. “To be there for.”
“What are you talk…” I pictured Keith. Six years old now. Handsome kid. Big brown eyes. Dark wavy hair. Slowly, I shook my head.
“Keith,” Jamie said, as if I hadn’t figured it out. “I’ve been giving Sara money for him since he was born. She deserves more from me than just a few hundred bucks every month.”