Spill Over

by Jolene Perry

  “I met my dad for this first time last year.”

  “For the first time?” I can’t imagine.

  “Yeah.” She lets out a breath. “He’d been trying to track my mom down for years. She apparently never signed papers for them to get divorced.”

  “Wow.” Maybe this is part of why her and Dad don’t have anything more than a friends-with-benefits thing going on.

  “I was on the dock and heard Mom arguing with a man on our boat. It scared me at first. I knew right away it wasn’t your dad.

  “He ran past me. Our eyes met so fast, but I knew. Mom has blue eyes, but not like mine. Mine are my dad’s.” She remains still, and her voice is quiet and calm. Like the movement of the boat under our feet is enough. I wait for her to continue.

  “His eyes widened, just a little, and it’s like I was frozen to the spot, and he just walked away. He glanced back to look at me again. We both knew. He knew who I was, and he just continued on.” She swallows once, hard.

  I reach out to touch her, or comfort her or something, but I have no idea how to do that. It’s weird not knowing Dad well, but at least I always knew he was out there somewhere. “I’m sorry, I…”

  “Don’t be.” She shifts her weight to look at me. “I send him emails to his work. I know it’s him. He won’t write back.”

  That’s what she was looking for the other day, on her laptop. I’m sure of it. My chest aches for her. Who wouldn’t want to know Amber?

  “Tonight was really fun, but you still seem sad, something in your eyes. I don’t know what you’re going through after your mom. I can’t imagine, but I know what it’s like to have a hole there.” I barely hear her voice above the sound of the ferry engines, the wind, and the water.

  There’s no thinking, just doing. I step forward and pull her tightly into my arms. Holding her makes part of me want to let loose and cry right here on the damn boat, wrapped up in Amber, the sweet, fresh smell of her, the strength of her arms and the feelings that pull us together. But there’s also a calm around her, some force that makes me feel grounded. Like no matter how shitty things seem to be, they’ll get better. I wonder if she feels that, or if it’s just how she makes me feel.

  “I can’t imagine someone not wanting to know you,” I whisper.

  “Hey. It’s okay.” Her smile even looks genuine as she pulls her head off my chest. “I’m okay.”

  She chuckles a sad sounding laugh, and I can feel each of her movements, as if she’s shaking some of her calmness and it’s spilling into me, because I’m not ready to let her go, not yet.

  “That’s what you get out of my story?”

  “I don’t know.” I shake my head. “It’s more how you feel.”

  Her face has the smallest, palest freckles. My hand reaches out with this sudden desire to touch them—her nose, the top of her cheekbones.

  She pulls away from me. “I don’t think…”

  I hug her tightly one more time, and all I can this is please, please, don’t say that friend word. Please.

  She doesn’t. She just hugs me back, and relief washes through me.

  - - -

  It’s near ten PM, the harbor’s quiet. Lynn is glued to Dad’s side.

  We pause at the back of her boat.

  “Why don’t you two watch a movie together or something,” Dad offers.

  I open my mouth to protest, but realize this is his very polite way of asking me to stay off his boat for a while, so he can be with Lynn. Right. The friends with benefits thing.

  I’ll probably crash on the floor in Amber’s boat rather than risk going home too early. Spending some time alone with her sounds pretty damn perfect.

  “Amber!” Someone calls from the top of the ramp.

  “Sure, Dad. See you in the morning.” I turn away from him to see who called her name. Kent. Of course. Who else would be stalking her?

  Amber’s eyes float to mine as our parents quickly make their way to Dad’s boat.

  “What do I do?” she asks.

  I really don’t want to share her with Captain America, but what the hell am I supposed to say? “Whatever. I don’t care.” I don’t know how it comes out, and I don’t know that I care. Stupid prick has really crappy timing.

  She slumps and walks up the ramp. I head into her mom’s boat. It’s way smaller than dad’s, and the steps leading down inside are even steeper. This boat also has more clutter, but knowing Lynn the small bit I do, I’m not surprised. Her egg-shaped table isn’t dissimilar from Dad’s, and I sit, having not the faintest idea what to do with myself. I wonder what Amber and Kent are talking about?

  I shake my head and rub my hands over my face. It really doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter.

  “Hey, Antony?” Amber calls.

  “Yeah.”

  Her legs step into the boat first. I wish she’d pause, just for a few minutes.

  “Kent’s joining us for a movie.”

  As soon as I can see her whole body, Kent’s feet appear as he makes his way down the steep stairs behind Amber.

  “Great.” I wonder if both catch the sarcasm in my voice.

  Amber looks very pointedly at me, her lips are pressed together, but she’s trying to look relaxed. “You said you didn’t care. So here we are.”

  I try to hold in a smile. Amber’s trying to play games here. I’m sort of surprised, and also sort of flattered, because this means she likes me. Or is starting to.

  The couch in here IS the seat around the table. There’s a small flat screen that pulls away from the wall, and she slides in a movie. Amber sits in the one small chair to take off her boots. Bare legs. Pretty feet. I jerk my head from her direction and stare at the TV.

  “How’s it going?” Kent asks me.

  “Good.” I nod.

  We’re both trying way too hard to look relaxed, which means he’s as strung up as I am. And right now both of us probably want to stare at Amber, but maybe not while the other one is staring at Amber. Awkward is sort of a lame description for this moment, but there it is.

  “Okay.” She stands up. “Help me get the table lowered, so it’s like a coffee table, and then we’ll have somewhere for our feet.”

  “I can help.” Kent stands up. “I’ve done it before.” His gaze points on me for a sec before he crouches down next to Amber.

  There’s no way I’m staying in this boat with Mr. Goody-boy.

  “You two enjoy the movie. I’m going to take off for a bit.” I stand.

  Amber’s breath catches, and her eyes look wide. “You’re… leaving?”

  “Yep.” I start to the door. Either that or I’m going to make an ass out of myself in some ridiculous show to outdo a guy that I should be able to run circles around. And I know it makes me sound arrogant, but come on.

  “I wouldn’t go back to your boat, you know…”

  “I’m fine. Thanks.” I give her one last subtle wave before walking up and out of her boat. I don’t bother to say anything to stupid Kent.

  Amber’s eyes are wide, and her mouth is open. She was playing something by inviting him down, and I’m not into it. The thing I like about Amber is that she’s not the playing games kind of girl.

  It kills me to leave them alone in there, but sitting with both of them? Not going to happen.

  Nothing’s open this time of night, so I climb in Dad’s car and start it to get some heat going. I reach into the back pocket of the passenger’s seat and pull out my iPad. Right now I’m in desperate need of distraction.

  I read over the pages I’ve written from my South African boy. By the time I reach the end of what I’ve got down the other day, I’m in the groove and start typing as fast as I can on the odd keyboard. Minutes, hours… time doesn’t exist when I’m writing. Just my thoughts, my fingers working as fast and as hard as they can to get the words down.
<
br />   The frustration of Amber mixes with the hurt of Mom, and it’s all pouring out from the thoughts of a little boy on the outskirts of Johannesburg.

  Eleven

  “Wait. We’re going where?” I ask.

  “To the San Juan’s. Canada?” Dad’s eyes are wide. “It’s the trip we’ve been planning since you got here. We’ve just been waiting for good weather.”

  “Oh. Guess I’ve been a little distracted.” How will things be different? Guess they really won’t be. We’ll still be on the boat, just not on the dock.

  “So, they’ll ride with us?” I ask.

  “Yeah, Lynn and Amber always ride along on my boat cause it’s bigger.”

  “Right.” I smile. That’s a lot of time with Amber. “Two weeks?”

  “More or less.” He shrugs. “Really, we live here, so for however long we want.”

  “Uh…okay.” Right. The house moves. Kind of white trash in my mind, but also convenient.

  - - -

  Amber comes down the steps with a large backpack, her legs depressingly covered.

  “Morning,” I say, a little curious as to where we stand after last night and the whole movie thing with Captain America.

  She quickly takes the last two steps, her pack slung over a shoulder. “Morning.”

  Her eyes don’t directly meet mine, and her mouth twitches a few times. I have no idea what she’s thinking, and it’s making me crazy. She doesn’t look happy, or sad. Just…

  “How was your night?” I ask. What did you do after I left? Did he touch you? Did you want him to? Why am I such a mess over this?

  “You disappeared.” Her eyes narrow. Anger? I’m still not sure.

  “Yeah, it was a little too cozy in there for me.” I lean back and fold my arms. And I don’t like games.

  “Crap.” She sits in a slump. “Okay. I’m about to take my mom’s advice, and this really sucks, okay?”

  I chuckle at her poutiness. “Okay.”

  “It’ll be easier if I don’t look at you.” She rests fingers on either temple, blocking her peripheral.

  “I don’t like Kent that way. I just don’t. It was stupid and not nice for me to invite him last night. And I think I like you that way, but you scare me because I’ve never…”

  The pause is excruciating, and her face doesn’t move or twitch or give any indication of what she might be feeling.

  “Well, I can’t talk about that. And you don’t strike me as the kind of guy who’s happy waiting around for a girl to make up her mind, and I don’t know that you’d even want me, which would make all of this moot, and I’m a little confused, and I know you’re probably going somewhere fancy for school, and there’s no point in starting anything, and I’m afraid to start anything, and I don’t know what I’m saying, and really, really wish I hadn’t taken my mom’s advice.”

  She stops talking, breathing hard after her rant, and her eyes close.

  She likes me. I hadn’t realized how much uncertainty I felt until she said it out loud, and now I’m feeling something like relief.

  “I’m going to school at NYU.” That’s what I come up with?

  Our eyes meet. “Probably me too.”

  “What?” I ask. Amber in New York?

  “It’s one of my final three,” she says.

  “Oh.” What else did she talk about? “I think I only understood about half of what you said.”

  She stands, her cheeks redder by the second. “Let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything. Okay? I think that would be better.” She shifts her weight a few times and scans the carpet with her eyes.

  “Alright, but I’m sort of confused by the whole thing.” At least I’m being honest.

  She likes me, but isn’t sure, and also isn’t sure if she wants to start something?

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll go outside for a bit, and then I’ll come back down so we can start over.” Her shoulders are taut, her face is tight, and her hands are clenched together on the table.

  I reach forward and touch my fingers to hers. Mostly because I’m an idiot, but partly because I’m really starting to like her. A lot.

  Our eyes meet. “I’m nervous, and we’re going to pretend I didn’t say anything.”

  “Fine.” I pull my arms away, chest back to tension. Why am I even bothering?

  She jogs up the stairs and out to the back deck.

  I’m left alone, in the silence of Dad’s boat. Three sets of feet are padding around up there, preparing to take off. Probably I should, too. Only now I’m more confused than ever about what’s going on with Amber.

  After a few more minutes, I step outside, and the sun’s out. Wow. Even in the winter it’s beautiful here. The reflection off the small ripples in the water is unreal.

  “The weather’s supposed to be crazy warm for March. Aren’t you excited?” Amber’s smile is wide.

  Two seconds ago we were in awkward-ville. I guess we’re okay now. “Uh…yeah.”

  She laughs. “You’ll love getting out of Kingston for a while and up into Canada. It’s the perk of living on a boat.”

  “Okay.” I nod.

  “Besides, your dad’s boat is really nice.” Amber finishes typing up her line and stops next to me. Dad and Lynn are looking at charts on his small screen by the steering station.

  “It is?”

  Her eyes widen. “Are you kidding? This is an Oyster, and a big one.”

  “This is big?” I guess it’s one of the biggest on the docks, but still.

  “For a sailboat, yeah. These things run over a million,” she whispers.

  “What?” Where did my dad get that kind of money?

  She leans in. “He does make money writing, Antony.”

  Why does her warmth have to touch me when I can’t touch her? “Yeah, I just…”

  “Some people make it in quantity, others, like you, will make it in quality.” Her smile makes me think that yes, she does like me. It’s different from the smile she gave me when I first arrived.

  I narrow my eyes. “You’re just trying to suck up, so I’ll pass along a book.”

  “Please?” Her hands grasp my bicep and her wide eyes look straight into mine. If girls had any idea how much power they have, guys would be sunk. “I loved the beginning of the one I read. I want more.”

  A few more inches and our lips would touch. As much as I want it to happen, now’s not the right time. Before last night I would’ve thought any time would be the right time. “I’ll send it to your Kindle.” Crap. Why did I agree to this?

  “Thanks.” She gives me a tight sideways hug before running up the walkway to the bow.

  Now at least I know I’m not seeing things that aren’t there, but I still don’t know how to deal with a girl like Amber.

  - - -

  I step onto the back deck of Dad’s boat. Lynn is half on his lap in the captain’s chair, and they’re sharing a Coke. I’ve seen them around one another before, but never flirting like this.

  We’re moving north, which seems asinine in the winter, but Dad keep assuring me that it’s generally a few degrees warmer where we’re headed.

  “Wanna drive? I could show you the navigation?” Dad offers.

  “No thanks.” My eyes take in the blue ocean, which is all I can see in every direction. Until blond hair. Amber, resting with her legs dangling over the side.

  “How you feeling?” Dad asks.

  “Fine, why?”

  He shrugs. “Some people get motion sick.”

  “Not me.” I’ve spent my life on too many planes, boats and other odd forms of travel for his boat to bother me. All with Mom, but I cram that away. This isn’t the time to allow her to come to the surface. Besides, I’m still hopeful that maybe at some time my body will absorb the hurt that seems to be this never-ending, aching companion
of mine.

  “How do I get out there?” I point toward Amber.

  “Walk up the side, and don’t fall over the edge.” Dad chuckles as he hits another button on the side of his navigation screen.

  Right. Perfect. The walkway is wide, and I know if water weren’t rushing past me on one side, this wouldn’t be a problem. Instead I look at Amber, sitting way near the front of the bow, and think about how much I’d like to join her.

  When I’m next to her, I don’t wait for an invite, just sit down, letting my legs hang over the side.

  “Hey.” She smiles. “Isn’t this amazing?”

  “What?”

  “Are you kidding? Being pushed through the water by the wind! The warm sun in March! A million things!” She smiles and leans her arms on the railing in front of us.

  I rest the way she is. Now that I’m sitting and relaxed, the water’s not really rushing. Just moving by. Sailing means you don’t get anywhere very fast. But in a way it doesn’t matter because we’re already on the boat, which means, we’re moving, but we’re also there.

  The metal wires and clips occasionally rattle against the mast, and there’s a whistling sound as the wind pushes through the resistance we’ve created with the sails. “Yeah, all of it. It’s sort of amazing,” I agree. And I’m really feeling it, how cool this all is. I love the unique experiences I’ve had with Mom, but this is a pretty awesome too.

  “I was thinking…” she starts.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sure if feels weird to be here, you know, after New York and everything.”

  “It feels weird to be there, too. Or even when David was here. That felt off.” Everywhere feels “off” right now.

  Her eyes hit me. “Sorry.”

  I shrug. “It is what it is.”

  She pulls in a deep breath. “So, I was thinking. We’re now on a trip, so you’re the guy on vacation with your dad and his girlfriend and his girlfriend’s daughter on his million dollar sailboat, and that’s it.”