Falling Too Deep

by Shay Lee Giertz

  My stomach knotted up. “Give me a little more time. I just can’t right now.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry. It’s your birthday. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “What if I’m the reason he died?” Saying the words out loud verbalized what I had been thinking since his death. “I had hoped that if my memory came back it would clear me. But it doesn’t look that way.”

  “Oh Brooke, you are not at fault. No matter what your memory reveals. If somehow you got trapped underwater, your father would stop at nothing to save you.”

  We hugged again, but I couldn’t shut off the idea that I was somehow responsible for his death.

  “So, what would the birthday girl like for breakfast?”

  My stomach growled in response. The two of us laughed. “My favorite.”

  “Chocolate chip pancakes with strawberries?” Mom asked. “You, my dear, are a creature of habit. Which I’m glad for because those are the things I picked up at the store yesterday!”

  “With whipped cream?” I asked while she took the griddle out.

  She gave me a look that clearly said I was right. “Go out on the deck and put your feet up. It’s your only day of the year where you get pampered with no chores. You should enjoy it.”

  “I’m working four to close, so trust me, I’ll have chores.” I walked outside and sank into a lounge chair. But as Mom rummaged around the kitchen, I couldn’t relax. My mind kept replaying the nightmare. Dad in the water searching for me. How did I get stuck? How did my kayak flip over? Guilt weighed so heavily, I thought it might crush me. I wasn’t nearly as experienced at kayaking as my dad had been. Somehow, I had gotten myself into trouble.

  But how had I lived, and how did Dad die?

  I kept mulling over the events, unable to let it go.

  When Mom stepped outside with a tray full of pancakes, I forced myself to smile up at her. I didn’t want the dream to ruin my birthday, especially after all of her hard work to make it special. “Let’s sit at the table here. I’ll go wake up Bobby.”

  “Oh, let him sleep.” I got up from the lounge chair and sat at the deck table. “It’s still early. I’ll save some pancakes for him.”

  Mom divvied up the pancakes, letting me have the lion’s share. “This is nice. Just the two of us.”

  After my nightmare and the tremendous guilt I felt, I no longer felt hungry, but I made myself top my pancakes with whipped cream. I took a big bite and nodded, giving Mom a thumbs up.

  She smiled and began eating hers. “So, how does it feel to be an adult?”

  “Tiring.”

  Mom laughed. “Well, you’ll probably feel tired for the rest of your life. Welcome to adulthood.”

  The rest of my life? If I was alive? I had taken another bite of the pancakes, and they now felt stuck in my stomach.

  “There’s something I want to give you. I was going to wait until you opened up the presents, but I’m too excited.” Mom went inside and came back out holding a small UPS box. “It came in the mail yesterday.” She handed it to me.

  I shook it and raised my eyebrows. “A book? How shocking.”

  “Not just any book.”

  I opened the box and pulled out an advanced reader’s copy of Dad’s third book. I jumped up and squealed. “Are you serious?” I hugged it. “Best present ever.”

  “I think your Dad wanted you to have it on your birthday.”

  “Advanced copies aren’t due out for another three months.” I flipped through the pages, smiling at Dad’s dedication page. I held it up for Mom to see. “Bobby will be happy.”

  “He sure will. The first dedication was yours. The second was mine. Third is Bobby’s.”

  I scooted my chair closer to Mom’s, and we studied the book together. “Dad would love the cover,” I murmured. The first two books had black covers as well with Esmerelda staring out at the reader and the antagonist of each book staring at her menacingly. This time the antagonist is the dragon itself, and the cover designer had the dragon’s tail wrapped loosely around Esmerelda as if she were about to be captured. The look on Esmerelda’s face with her eyebrow cocked and a smirk playing on her lips easily let the reader know that there’s a trick or two left up her sleeve.

  “That’s the best cover yet.” Mom ran her fingers along the dragon’s tail. “I like how it slightly changes colors when you slant the book.” She paused, before continuing, “The agent contacted me and asked if I wanted to go ahead with the ghostwriter for the fourth book and end it with that one.”

  “No!” I said, looking up.

  “Well, I was hoping you’d say that. I think…I think your Dad would have wanted the fifth book to be written.”

  I studied the cover for another moment. “I think so too.”

  “I think you should write the fifth book.”

  “A part of me wants to, but I’m afraid I’ll mess it up.”

  “You’re good at writing, Brooke. We all know it. That’s one of the reasons your dad took so much time working with you. Plus, you won a national contest last year. Out of thousands of entries.”

  “That was small stuff compared to this. What if I do it all wrong?”

  Mom placed her hand on top of mine. “You wouldn’t mess it up, Brooke. I know it’s what your dad would want, and I think you know it too.” When I didn’t say anything, she said, “Just think about it.”

  The two of us sat side-by-side for the remainder of the morning, reading Dad’s third book. Bobby eventually joined us, and the three of us stayed huddled together, holding Dad’s legacy.

  But something kept gnawing at me while being captivated by the book. Not Mom’s request to write the fifth book even though that scared and exhilarated me. That wasn’t bothering me. What bothered me was that in the previous summer, the third book had never arrived.

  I knew it meant something. A clue. But I had no idea why it happened or what it could mean.

  13

  I dropped the tray of dirty dishes in the large bin next to the dishwasher. Pedro, one of the kitchen workers, shook his head. He had just started doing the restaurant’s dishes this evening, and I could tell his first night was overwhelming him a little.

  “No more dishes,” he said emphatically. “I’m up to my ears.” He pointed at his ears to demonstrate what he meant.

  “Don’t be a baby,” I said with a smile.

  “I will take the dishes, but only for you.”

  Tracy tapped my shoulder. “Table twelve specifically asked for you. Ready to try on your own?”

  “Sure,” I gulped. Even though I was pretty sure it was Mom and Bobby, and I had been working at the restaurant for about three weeks, going it alone seemed daunting.

  “Don’t be a baby,” Pedro mimicked, laughing at his joke.

  Reaching down into the soapy water, I flicked some at Pedro. A few of the other dishwashers “Oohed,” and talked amongst themselves.

  I rubbed at my eyes and stifled a yawn.

  “Has someone been going out too much?” Tracy teased as we headed out of the kitchen.

  “I wish.” I left her to go to another table.

  It still amazed me to view the contrast of the privileged dinner guests, eating meticulously from tiny bites on their forks, sipping slowly, talking amongst each other, to the loud, hectic kitchen. Just on the other side of the swinging doors, Miguel shouted at everyone, dishes occasionally crashed against the counters or floor, busboys and dishwashers talked amongst themselves and laughed at inside jokes, and waiters and waitresses pushed through the madness.

  Despite the fact my feet killed, and I desperately longed to relax in a nice, hot bath, I loved the job. I wasn’t anything special. My co-workers yelled at me just like they yelled at everyone else, but we also joked together. We’d whisper, “Check out Colonel Sanders at table thirty-six. Should I ask him for the secret recipe to fried chicken?” Or, “Could the lady at table four possibly put on any more jewelry?”

  Before reaching table twelve, I c
hecked my three other tables in the back of the restaurant. Tracy put me near the back so I didn’t have as far to travel, which I appreciated. Table twelve sat out on the patio overlooking the water. As I walked outside, I noticed Mom and Bobby hadn’t come alone. The entire Fairchild family sat with them.

  My heart plummeted.

  I had begged Mom earlier not to tell anyone about my birthday. She’d done a nice job of making me feel special, plus she and Bobby had bought me a bookstore gift card and a new pair of tennis shoes for work. It had been great. But the last thing I wanted was undesired attention.

  And all of them looked at me at the same time. Lucas’s eyes widened in recognition. It had been several nights since our encounter on the dock. I had tried very hard to forget a lot of what happened that night. Denial still seemed the safest bet. Not that my nightmares cooperated. But I wasn’t thinking about those either. Just the same, seeing Lucas here tonight brought the whole evening back up in the forefront of my memory. I forced myself to continue to the table, even though I wanted to run as fast as possible in the other direction.

  “There she is,” Mom said.

  “Took you long enough.” Bobby tapped his wrist in mock irritation.

  I wrinkled my nose and warned, “Watch out, mister. I’m the one who brings your food.”

  Mom and the Fairchilds laughed, and I nervously smiled, refusing to look over at Lucas. “So, what can I get everyone to drink? I’m sure Maddie went over the house specials.”

  Mom raised her eyebrows at the Fairchilds, as if impressed.

  “Theresa, I can’t believe your daughter is working this summer,” Mrs. Fairchild teasingly chided. “She should be relaxing and flirting with the young men.”

  “It was her decision. And I’m proud of her.” Mom smiled again at me. “We decided since you were going to work tonight, that’d we bring the party to you.”

  I widened my eyes and stared at Mom in a you-better-not-say-anything expression. She only grinned like a schoolgirl.

  “Well, look at you,” Mrs. Fairchild gushed. “Work or no work, you’re the prettiest thing. Theresa, she resembles you. You look like you stepped out of a magazine,” she said to me.

  I resisted the urge to snort. I knew I looked like an absolute mess. My shirt already had two stains on it, my khaki shorts were the same ones I wore the night before without washing, and my hair was tied back in a sloppy ponytail.

  “A dog magazine,” Bobby said under his breath, although everyone heard.

  But it made me laugh, “That’s exactly what I was thinking, little bro.”

  When the Fairchilds saw I wasn’t offended, they laughed too.

  “Brooke and I met at the pool when you first arrived,” Heather said. “She was supposed to come to the bonfire, but I didn’t see her there.”

  “I was there.”

  “Were you? I didn’t see you.”

  “Oh, no problem. You were probably too busy pranking my best friend.”

  Everyone at the table got quiet.

  “It was all in good fun,” Heather said to everyone at the table. “We always pull harmless pranks on the new kids.”

  “Jayce took it like a champ,” I said. “No worries.”

  Why wouldn’t Lucas look away?

  His stare made me sweat.

  “Well, I’ve been wanting to hang out. Get to know you a little bit.” Heather had the nice act going pretty strong. I almost believed she meant it.

  The adults acted touched. Mrs. Fairchild patted her daughter’s hand. “That’s so sweet.”

  I had to force myself to play along. “Yeah, I have a lot to do. With a job. Every night.”

  “Soon.” Heather’s eyes met mine.

  Hopefully, I was able to silently communicate the never-in-this-lifetime message. But obviously, I needed to work on my telepathic skills because neither she nor my mother seemed to mentally get what I was trying to lay down.

  “Well, it’s nice to get to see you again,” Mr. Fairchild said. “Right, guys?”

  “Nice to meet you, Brooke,” Lucas said quietly. I didn’t even glance in his direction, although my insides were tingling down to my toes. “You’ll have to hang out with us sometime.”

  “Oh, I have to work. But thank you for the invite.”

  Heather pouted, “You shouldn’t work the whole summer away.”

  “That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Mom chimed in.

  I could feel Lucas watching me, but I still couldn’t bring my eyes to his. Not unless I wanted to melt into a puddle in front of everyone. “I don’t mind working,” I said to Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild. “Idle hands are the devil’s handiwork. Or at least that’s what—”

  “—Dad always said,” Bobby interrupted.

  “Yes, he would say that to make you do your chores,” Mom added.

  The table became quiet again.

  “So, how about those drinks?” I asked.

  Mom and Bobby ordered their iced tea and Coke, but Mr. Fairchild just said, “We’ll have our usual. Normally, they don’t even ask us. Just bring it right out.”

  “Dad,” Lucas said. “Give her a break. She just started working here.”

  “I’m only helping her learn the ropes, son.” Mr. Fairchild looked directly at me. “And tell Miguel I’m here. He’ll know what to do.”

  I nodded curtly and walked away. I heard Mrs. Fairchild break the awkwardness by saying, “She is a cute little thing, isn’t she?”

  When I reached the back of the restaurant, Maddie held a tray of drinks. “Don’t worry. I’ve got twelve covered. The Fairchilds are very particular about their drinks. And food for that matter.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled. It would have been nice if Tracy had given me a little hint. My face burned with embarrassment as I approached Miguel, who was flying through orders so fast I almost couldn’t understand what he was shouting. “Miguel?” I asked, not wanting to interrupt.

  “What?” he bellowed. “What do you need?”

  “The Fairchilds are here.”

  “Tracy gave you that table?”

  “They asked for her!” Tracy said, coming up behind me.

  “I will take care of their main course and deliver it myself,” Miguel said. “Take out our house soup with bread right from the oven. And don’t dally. Do they have their drinks?”

  “Maddie served them for me.”

  He nodded but glared at Tracy.

  “Sorry, Brooke,” Tracy said to me as I went to ladle soup into bowls. “It’s just crazy out there tonight. I should have warned you. But I thought since they asked for you, it might be different.”

  “No problem,” I said as I fetched a fresh loaf of bread.

  “Like this,” she instructed and folded the cloth napkin around the bread in an elaborate manner. “They don’t like a mess, so this helps catch the crumbs. See?”

  I stared at her in shock. “Are they seriously this high-maintenance?”

  “You have no idea,” she murmured. “And if you do anything wrong, that measly fifteen percent they give you dwindles to nothing. Here,” she handed me the breadboard with three different kinds of butter surrounding it. “Hurry, you don’t want this to cool.”

  I set it on the tray with the soups.

  “No, hold the breadboard by the handle.”

  “But I need both hands to hold the tray.”

  “You’ll have to practice that. But for now, I’ll follow you.”

  I held the tray, heavy with soup bowls, as Tracy followed behind me with the bread.

  When we reached the table, sweat trickled down my back. It wasn’t only because the kitchen was warm. The previous summer, I had never known this about the Fairchilds. Then again, I didn’t regularly hang out with Heather and Lucas’s parents. I went to set the tray on one of the holders, but Tracy shook her head. “Let me hold that for you,” she said with a dazzling smile. She set down the bread right in front of Mr. Fairchild, along with a set of small plates. “How are the Fairchilds this evening?
” she asked.

  As I handed out the soup, first to Mr. Fairchild, then to the others, Mrs. Fairchild made small talk with Tracy. When I set the bowl down, Mrs. Fairchild immediately shooed it away. “I never take the soup.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. I took it and handed it to Mom.

  Mom grabbed my hand and squeezed. “You’re doing terrific, sweetie.”

  I would have smiled, but I was too busy making sure not to mess up.

  “I don’t take the soup, either.” Heather frowned.

  I nodded and went to hand it to Lucas. The bowl tipped as I set it down, spilling some on the table. Mr. Fairchild seemed to let out an irritated breath. “So sorry,” I said. I didn’t have a towel on me, so I asked Bobby, “Let me use your napkin.”

  Tracy made a small noise in protest, but Bobby shrugged and handed it to me.

  “It’s fine,” Lucas said and used his napkin to wipe it up.

  “It looks like Brooke could use a bit more training,” Mr. Fairchild said to Tracy.

  “Dad!” Lucas and Heather both protested.

  “I’m teasing. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with becoming better at a job. Right, Brooke?”

  “Right.” But I still imagined taking the hot soup and dumping it all over him.

  “I think Brooke is doing great,” Mom said proudly.

  “Of course, of course,” Mr. Fairchild said to her with a smile.

  “Um, Brooke?”

  I looked over at Bobby.

  “Can I have a Coke, please?”

  “Didn’t Maddie bring you one?” I asked, looking to see the Fairchilds had their drinks, but Mom and Bobby didn’t have theirs. Then again, how would Maddie have known what Mom and Bobby had wanted? “I’ll go get it right now.”

  “No rush, dear.”

  “What about our orders?” Bobby asked. “I want a burger and fries.”

  “I thought Miguel was taking care of that?” I glanced up at Tracy, who looked at me with pity.