"I was thinking hootenanny, but we can go with yours," I joked.
Sawyer laughed and the last of the tension melted away from the table. Obviously he was still dealing with some strong emotions about his sister's death, so I wasn't about to hold a grudge about the things he'd said. I understood how that could happen. I was sure I'd said and done some regrettable things after Thomas had died. There was something reassuring about hanging out with someone who understood the dark side of things. Who wouldn't judge me if ever I suffered from verbal vomit.
I had a feeling that Sawyer and I were going to be really good friends.
64
STORY TELLING
I gripped the underside of my seat as the sailboat tipped sideways and sea spray showered over me, stinging the bare patches of skin. My heart lurched as we tipped even further and I looked down at my life vest. Was this skimpy little thing really going to keep me afloat when we capsized?
"It's beautiful out here today!" Upton shouted as he raced from one side of the boat to the other, turning this crank and adjusting that rod. He wasn't even wearing a vest. What if he slipped and fell overboard? Then I'd be stranded on this boat all alone with no idea how to turn it around and save him. What the hell was he thinking, bringing me out here? What had I been thinking when I said yes? We should have been spending the day on the beach, where it was nice and dry and solid and safe.
"Having fun yet?" he asked jovially, hanging on to a sail line and swinging back and forth.
65
I forced myself to look out at the water, trying to see this beauty he was so hopped up about, but all I could see was me. Alone. Floating. Sinking. Almost drowning.
That was it. Forget this 'brave Reed' act. I couldn't take it anymore.
"How much longer are we going to be out here?" I asked.
"What?" Upton replied.
"I don't think I can do this!" I shouted, my knuckles smarting from the force of my grip.
Upton's face paled. He seemed to really see me for the first time on our sail. He dropped down onto the gleaming wood deck and teetered his way over to me, hanging on to whatever ropes were in reach.
"Are you all right?" he asked, crouching in front of me.
"If this is your idea of lying low..."
Upton covered his eyes with his hand, then slid it down to cover his mouth. He looked stricken. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I should have realized. To me this is relaxing, but obviously to you . . . I'm such an idiot."
I didn't say anything to refute this conclusion.
"I was going to anchor the boat out here for a little while," he said. "But if you want to go back--"
"Anchor?" I said, my voice a squeak. "As in stop moving?"
"That's generally what an anchor does, yeah," he joked.
"I think I could maybe handle that."
"All right, then. We'll try it," he said. "But if you want to go back, just say the word."
66
"Thanks," I said, already feeling more secure. "I will."
Fifteen minutes later, the boat was at rest. Aside from the gentle lolling as it dipped up and down with the waves, there was no movement. Upton helped me up from my perch at the center of the boat and gripped me tightly as I walked on quaking legs to the stern. The area was lined with benches covered with colorful striped cushions. There was a picnic basket, filled with gourmet breakfast foods no doubt, in the center of the wood-paneled floor. I had yet to tell Upton about my early breakfast with Sawyer, figuring that if Sawyer had such negative feelings about Upton, then Upton might feel the same way about Sawyer.
"Is this okay?" Upton asked as I sank onto the soft bench.
"This'll work," I replied, my voice steady.
Upton sat down next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. I curled against him, my bulky life vest shifting awkwardly toward my opposite shoulder. His chest rose and fell steadily beneath my cheek, and I could just make out the beating of his heart. He ran his fingers back and forth over my upper arm and I sighed.