Going Under (Wildfire Lake 2)

“The problem is that we want different things from life right now.” I explain that there are seasons in life like there are throughout the year. “Kat is at a time in her life where she wants to travel, and I’m at a time when I’m focused on raising you and your sisters.”

“Why can’t we do all that together?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Honey, life isn’t quite that easy to manipulate.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you and your sisters have school and I have work and our family is here and we have this house. I have a lot of responsibility, and my biggest and most important responsibility is to create a good life for you and your sisters. I promised your mom I would do everything in my power to make you three happy.”

“What about you? Didn’t Mama want you to be happy too?”

Sometimes Jana’s death feels decades past. Sometimes, like now, it feels like it happened last month. “Of course she did, but she also understood that sometimes a parent’s happiness has to come second to their children’s.”

Violet thinks about that, her brow tight, her lips twisting along with her brain. I stand and kiss her head. “Good night, honey.”

Before I turn off the light, she says, “Gia’s parents travel all the time.”

My shoulders sink. This conversation is clearly not over. So I sit back down on her bed.

“Her dad is in the army, and they’ve lived all over the world. She has an older brother and a little brother, and their dad used to go away for work, and he was gone a long time, and their family didn’t like it. So now they go with him wherever he travels. Her mom homeschools them when they aren’t in a town where there are good schools. Gia says they love it.” She pauses, meets my gaze deliberately, and asks, “Why can’t we go with Kat when she travels?”

I smile and stroke Violet’s hair. “She travels in a tiny boat out in the ocean where there’s nothing for miles.”

“Not always. She told me her favorite way to sail is along the coastline. That way, if she sees something interesting, she can investigate to see if she wants to stay awhile.”

“Do you two talk about sailing a lot?”

“Not anymore. Since you two don’t like each other anymore, it’s hard to get her to talk about it, but when she does, you can tell she loves it. She gets happy.”

“Which is exactly why she should go.”

“I don’t understand why we can’t go too.” Violet’s frustrated with me. I’m clearly not explaining things to her satisfaction, which usually means I’m underestimating her ability to understand a topic. “That catamaran she showed us was big.”

I laugh. “Maybe to someone your size.”

“It had room for everyone. Poppy and Jazz and I could even have our own bedrooms.”

“Sweetie, this house isn’t free, and I have a job. I can’t exactly work out on the ocean where there are no people or even work when we’re moving from place to place. Employers want to know you’re going to come in every day. That can’t happen when you’re sailing the way Kat does. I also think it’s important to mention the fact that we weren’t invited to stay permanently, only to visit.” I fluff her covers. “Now, come on, get to sleep.”

“Kat doesn’t need a job. She saved her money, and now she doesn’t have to work.”

I stand and sigh. “We can’t all be independently wealthy.”

“I don’t know what that means, but I heard you talking to Aunt Jackie, and I know you have a lot of money saved from when we sold our house in San Diego.”

Man, I forget how much they hear and see. Nothing like a heart-to-heart with your kid to see yourself in a different light. “That’s called a college fund.”

She crosses her arms with a frown and a pmph, then mutters, “I think it’s called an excuse.”

I laugh. She’s certainly picked up Kat’s quick retorts. I turn off her light.

“What would you do if you weren’t afraid?” she asks.

I recognize the question as one Jana used to ask the kids all the time. I always loved the way it tore down mental roadblocks for the girls. Now, my eleven-year-old is turning the question on me. “Honey, I’m tired, and I still have to clean up. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

I close her door halfway and head down to the kitchen. “I think that’s called an excuse,” I say smiling. “Smartass.”

But what continues to play over and over in my mind is “I don’t understand why we can’t go too.”