Family For Beginners

“Yeah, right. Her epiphany was probably that I’m a total bitch. Do you think I’m a total bitch?”

“No. Izzy, we talked about this last night. You’re allowed to blow up occasionally. Keeping all that emotion inside all the time isn’t good. Why are you beating yourself up?”

Because she felt bad, all of the time. Bad about losing her mother. Bad about upsetting her dad, and now she felt bad about Flora, too.

When she was little she’d had a comfort blanket, until her mother had decided she was too old for such things and thrown it away. Izzy had suffered sleepless nights for months afterward. Flora’s kindness the night before had reminded her of being wrapped in that warm, comforting blanket. She’d provided insulation from a cold, hard world.

The fact that Izzy had almost flung herself on her and hugged her was her secret. Thinking about how she’d almost blown it brought on a sweaty panic. She’d been so freaked out by how much she wanted to hug Flora that she’d ended up yelling. And by doing so she’d made sure that Flora would never want to hug or defend her again.

That thought upset her more than it should have done. She didn’t care about Flora, did she? She wanted her gone.

She stared at the lake, wondering what it felt like to drown. And Flora had said she’d been with her mother. Izzy couldn’t begin to imagine that. She thought constantly about what she could have done to save her own mother even though she knew there was nothing. The doctor had said she’d had a time bomb in her brain. But Flora—did Flora feel guilty for not being able to save her mother from drowning?

“Drowning wouldn’t be a good way to die.”

Aiden frowned. “Izz—”

“I’m not talking about myself. Just thinking, that’s

all. I mean, it wouldn’t be that quick, would it? Do you think you know it’s going to happen? Or do you keep fighting, and trying to swim until it’s too late and then you just give up.”

Had Flora asked herself those questions? Been tormented by detail?

She couldn’t stop thinking that Flora had been on her own. No one protecting her.

Aiden rubbed her back gently. “What I think,” he said, “is that you should think about something else.”

“I bet Flora is thinking of nothing else, thanks to me.”

“She seemed fine.”

“That’s because she’s too polite to say what she was really thinking. She should have yelled at me, don’t you think? What do I have to do to make her yell and lose her temper?”

“She doesn’t strike me as the yelling type.”

Which made Izzy feel even worse. “Do you think my dad knows? Would you invite someone to spend three weeks on a lake if you knew they were terrified of water?”

“I don’t know. It depends on whether the person wants to stay away from water or not. Sometimes you choose to face the stuff that freaks you out.”

“Er—did you see her face when I invited her kayaking? She looked the way I did when you made me watch that horror movie when I was nine.”

“I remember. You turned green and threw up.” Aiden levered himself into his kayak, his weight and the movement making the boat rock. “Are you sure you want to do this? We can go back if you like. You can spend the day hanging out with Flora and beating yourself with sticks.”

“No. She deserves a break from me.” And she needed a break from Flora, too. Being around her made her feel bad about herself. “If I go back, my dad will tactfully find a way to talk about college and I have too much of a headache to handle that right now.” She immediately felt calmer being in her kayak. There was something about being this close to the water that soothed her. The lake stretched ahead in all directions. A pair of mallards scooted across the surface, ignoring Izzy, accepting her as part of life on the lake.

Aiden nudged her kayak with his. “Are you ready?”

She adjusted her grip on the paddle. “It’s been a year since we did this together. Can we go to the island?”

“Let’s stay close to shore today where it’s sheltered. The wind is picking up and the island isn’t an easy paddle.”

“Are you calling me a wimp again?”

“No. This time it’s me. I don’t think my muscles can take it.” He pushed off, paddling smoothly, his kayak gliding through the water.

She knew that wasn’t true. He was more than capable of rowing to the island. He probably thought she wouldn’t make it and he didn’t want her to get any madder with herself. She probably should have been annoyed, but in fact she was touched. Nothing in life felt secure or smooth at the moment. There were moments when she was beginning to doubt her ability to cope, so it was true that not making it to the island wouldn’t do anything for her mood or confidence.

She followed, watching his shoulders flex as he paddled. She wished she could keep paddling, just like this, with only the birds and the water to keep them company and the rest of her horrible, messed-up life back on the shore behind her. Everything seemed simpler, somehow, when she was out on the water.