“What are you doing?”
I ignore her question and sway a bit as I turn to face her. I extend my hand to her, and she looks at it with concern. “Grab my hand.”
“What?”
“Just grab my hand, Raine!” I snap playfully and give her a winning smirk as she grabs my hand and slowly pulls herself to stand. “Now, dance with me.”
“What?” she repeats, and it takes everything in me not to laugh at the look on her face. “They’re playing a rap song. I can’t get low on a pedal boat—or anywhere. I can’t dance.”
Although I would love to see her attempt that, I place one hand onto her hip and the other in her hand. “Just dance with me.” I look at her with a grin.
“You’re crazy.” She chuckles, the tension releasing as she removes her hand from mine and places her arms around my neck. “Who dances in a pedal boat?”
“Us. We do.”
“We’re officially crazy, then,” she adds as she places her head onto my chest, and I pull her closer by placing a hand onto the back of her head.
I’m crazy about you,I want to say, but instead, I tighten my lips together and place my cheek onto the top of her head. We stay like this for the rest of the song until the boat is far enough that we can’t hear their music anymore. The tightness in herback relaxes as she snuggles into me more and begins humming a song for us.
I rub circles on her back, silently telling her that everything is going to be okay. I can’t take away her grief from losing a pet or remove the worry in her heart of knowing Davis is always going to be at home waiting for her. But I can distract her for the moment and take her mind away from it all.
We are both so wrapped up in one another that we fail to hear a boat speeding by us. It’s close enough that the waves push against the boat, yanking us apart and sending us both into the lake. Panic hits me as the sound of water bubbling around me fills my senses. I reach out to search for Raine in the water before I push my way up to the surface.
I find her clinging onto the boat with her back to me. My arms push through the water until I’m at her side, and once she turns to face me and I see the smile on her face, relief washes over me. We both start laughing as we work together to get back into the boat.
We’re both soaking wet, our clothes clinging to us, and my laugh evaporates and is replaced with nerves as I try to avert my eyes from looking at her. I can hear the splash of water hitting the bottom of the boat as she wrings out the fabric of her dress.
“Thanks for making me feel better—even though you almost killed us,” she says softly as we put our feet back onto the pedals and begin making our way back to the dock where our friends are waiting for us.
“That’s what friends are for,” I say, but the wordfriendscomes out a little hoarse this time. Because in my heart, Raine is much more to me than just my friend. And I wish I knew how to tell her that.
Chapter Eleven
Now
Raine
My world is falling apart and I don’t know how to stop it.
It’s been three days since Mamaw’s funeral, and I haven’t had the energy to do anything but lie in an uncomfortable hotel bed, drinking metallic-tasting water from the bathroom sink and snacking on vending machine food. I desperately need a shower because I can smell the musty scent of myself.
I’m thankful that my job has given me bereavement time off along with a few personal days that I used when I traveled here. I know that I can’t stay like this forever. I need to collect whatever pieces I have left of myself in order to be there for my Papaw.
I’ve called him each day to check in on him, keeping things short and simple, understanding that we both need some time to accept reality. I’ve ignored every other call and text message I’ve received since the funeral. I’m not ready to talk to anyone about it. I might not ever be.
I roll over to my left side, reach down toward the rough carpet that looks like it was designed in the early ‘70s, and grabthe cord to my phone charger. My phone died a few hours ago, so I plug it back in and watch as the Apple logo pops into view. I place it face down so I don’t have to watch all the notifications pop up at once.
Exhaling, I flop back onto the bed. Even doing that simple task seems to drain my energy. Grief sucks the life out of anyone within its grasp. I’m pretty sure I passed through three of the stages of grief within the past few days. The first day after we said our goodbyes, I was in denial that it even happened.
It felt like a dream and that I would eventually wake up, and there Mamaw would be, sitting at the kitchen table, folding dough to bake a fresh batch of sourdough bread. However, each day I wake up to the reality that she isn’t here. How could God allow my Mamaw to die like she did? He gave me peace! Why would he give me peace and then just take her away?
The second day, I entered the bargaining stage and pleaded with God through my tears. I felt so alone, and that peace he once gifted me never returned. And so, I slid right into depression, which is where I feel stuck currently. I’ve ignored the alerts on my phone. I’ve ignored the knocks at my hotel door. I’ve ignored reality. But I know Ican'tstay like this.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
A knock on the hotel door sends me jumping and sprawling onto the floor.
The sound is loud and impatient. Someone is going to beat down the door. Is it an intruder? The second they catch sight of my mess, I guarantee they will turn around and walk right back out—I hope, anyway.
