Once Upon an Island

“Yes, dear?”

“I don’t want to know.”

I can practically hear her smiling over the phone. I tell her goodbye and she hangs up, to go do whatever she and my dad are about to do at the beach.

For a few minutes, I just sit in the kitchen and stare out the window.

I wonder if I’d ever asked my dad how he felt, if he would’ve told me? Probably. Instead, I let our relationship rest on assumptions.

Sort of like I did with Declan.

I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d just asked Declan how he felt? I wonder if I would’ve been courageous enough to be open to his answer.

I sigh then walk to the living room and pull the sea turtle sculpture off the bookshelf.

My dad’s proud of me.

My mom loves me.

I have my job.

A biography to write.

My friends.

My cottage and my garden.

I feel the weight of the turtle in my hand. Why does all that make me feel so lonely?