“And what about you?”
“Me? I was given nothing but freedom. I got away with murder. I had boyfriends galore, I stayed out late, I drank and smoked weed, I did whatever I wanted. I’m lucky that I loved school because I don’t think they would have even pushed me to do well.”
“So Lacey resents you because you got all the freedom and she didn’t.”
“Yeah, resent is the right word. But…the thing is, I’m no better off than she is. Because she’s the one who got all the attention. My parents cared enough about her to be that strict. They didn’t care about me. They let me do whatever because I was barely a thought in their minds.”
“That’s not true,” I tell her. “I spent a lot of time with your parents, they’re very proud of you.”
“Maybe…maybe now we’re closer. But it wasn’t like that before. So while Lacey resents me for my freedom, I resent Lacey for the love and attention she got.”
The words seem to hang in the air between us until they’re blown away by the wind and I get the feeling that Daisy has never said those words out loud, has never articulated that to someone else.
Why that makes me feel special, I don’t know.
“So…” she goes on, her voice lower. “It’s complicated.” She glances at me. “You’re lucky you don’t have any siblings.”
I freeze and I can feel my skin pale.
Because she doesn’t know.
And it’s not a secret at all, it’s something I should be able to talk about.
But I can’t. Not here, on the water. Not when there is so much at stake.
It’s not healthy, that voice speaks up, the voice that roars the loudest on the sea. You named the boat after her and thought that was enough, you thought that was how you dealt with her death. But you haven’t dealt with it at all. None of you have.
I close my eyes, fighting the feeling.
Not here. Not now.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my life now,” Daisy says.
I blink, pushing the grief deeper into my heart.
Focus on her. Focus on Daisy.
I clear my throat. “In what way?”
“In every way, man. In every single way.”
“I have no doubt you can get another marketing job. Perhaps one even better.”
“I know,” she says. “I don’t doubt that. But…I’m not sure I want that. I took that job because I lucked into it right out of high school. My boyfriend at the time, his father worked there and got me an internship and that was it. I never went to college. I wanted to, but I never went because I didn’t have to. I stayed with that job because it made my life easy and I went with it. But…I’m starting to think that it didn’t fulfill anything except a paycheck.”
“But there’s nothing wrong with that,” I point out, remembering many times in my life where I did whatever jobs I could in order to make money. Then again, I had a goal in mind and it was always to buy boats and to do what I’m doing right now.
“There isn’t,” she admits. Her brows knit together delicately. “Do you think there’s something wrong with wanting more, though?”
I shake my head. “There’s nothing wrong with that either. We should always want more. More for ourselves. To be greater versions of ourselves. It’s better to be in a state of becoming than to be in a state of being. I believe that.”
“My whole life I’ve just been in a state of being,” she says. “I haven’t become anything.”
“But you will.”
She gives me a small smile. “I hope so.” She pauses. “I just have to figure out what.”
“I have no doubt you’ll get there,” I tell her.
She grins. “I have to say, I might like supportive Tai better than grumpy Tai.”
I roll my eyes and adjust my hands on the wheel. “Still the same Tai.”
She nods and sips her coffee, staring at the stars.
Hours pass by in small talk, though now that Daisy has calmed down and is less nervous around me, our conversations have become more thoughtful. I actually enjoy them, her views on society, the world, even politics.
Finally, the night sky begins to fade into a dark orange, the colors threading the horizon line, mixing together like a watercolor palette. Pinks and reds and purples form and change and blend, the clouds soaking in the saturation as the sun slowly rises.
“We have no idea how important this is,” I find myself whispering, my voice feeling rough and raw.
“The sunrise?” Daisy asks. She’s in awe as the colors change before our eyes.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “To see the dawn of the new days. Sometimes it feels like the world around us is collapsing. Sometimes it’s the world inside us. But the sun always rises. It always promises that we can start again. It’s the one thing we can count on when we can’t count on anything else.”
She sniffs. I realize I’m being a sap and it’s not like me.
But at this moment I don’t care.
“Atarangi,” I find myself saying, the word holding so much reverence.
“That’s the name of the boat,” she comments, looking back at me.
I nod.
It was my sister’s name, too.
“It means morning sky,” I tell her.
Eight
Daisy
Daisy’s Log: Day 2
I’m writing this from up-top, at the bow of the ship, the only place where I can find some privacy. It’s mid-day and though the breeze is fresh, the sun is soooo strong that I’m swaddled in a long-sleeve shirt, plus that Deschutes ball cap that I stole from the swag room back at work, trying to protect my skin.
I was hoping to find the space here to do some yoga, or my daily meditations at the very least, but the up and down of the boat through the water has been challenging for my positions. Twice I attempted a simple half-moon pose and was nearly pitched overboard.
I’m sure the boat wouldn’t stop to pick me up.
I thought we were making good progress last night.
Tai had cooked up this Korean stir-fry with loads of kimchi and it was freakin’ delicious. Everyone seemed in good spirits by the time cocktail hour came and we all sipped wine and watched the sunset on the horizon.
It was really nice! For a moment, I got so wrapped up in the excitement of what I’m doing—on a boat, traveling across the South Pacific to the tropical bliss of Fiji—that I forgot all the tension of earlier that day.
Then came bedtime. Lacey and Richard had first shift, so I went to bed at ten to try and get five hours of sleep before I had to get up. I felt bad that Tai had to sleep on the couch so I offered the bed to him, but naturally he refused.
Let me tell you, I could have slept forever. When that alarm went off in the middle of the night, it felt like pure torture getting up. So I didn’t. I turned off snooze and fell asleep for probably five minutes before Tai was shaking me awake.
Did I mention I was DROOLING?! Yes, Mr. Sexy Pants Pirate probably got a great view of that. Ugh. Anyway, I pulled on my joggers and a hoodie and joined him. I could already hear Richard snoring loudly from the rear cabin.
Tai had a Thermos full of hot coffee for us, so at least that was good, and the stars made up for it. I’ve never seen so many stars before. It was like looking at the universe for the first time and seeing ALL of it. It was pretty intense. It woke me up.
And you know what? We actually TALKED. Or I did. About Lacey, about life…about things I’ve never voiced to anyone, things I never voice to myself.
It felt so damn good, even though I was telling it to Tai of all people.
I guess I just trust him with my thoughts.
He at least was being supportive. Made me feel a little less alone, which is something I’m realizing I’ve felt my whole life. All the boyfriends and friends I surrounded myself with did nothing to stop me from feeling alone.
But hey, at least I’m recognizing that now.
Better late than never.
O
r as Tai said, better to become than just be.
Then the sun came up. Just a hint of red at the horizon before it slowly rose and the new day began.
It was probably the prettiest sunrise I’ve ever seen.
* * *
Daisy’s Log: Day 3
It’s past bedtime but I’m awake. The ocean was rougher today and the boat is still doing this back-and-forth up-and-down thing, and it turns out that doesn’t rock you to sleep like a baby, instead it’s like someone attached said cradle to a rollercoaster.
I don’t like it.
It scares me. It makes me realize how far from anything we are.
I kept on looking at the GPS chart today and it’s just…there’s nothing out there.
NOTHING!
Just endless sea.
And there’s nothing going on in here. None of our phones work, we don’t have any internet, there’s the satellite phone but that’s only for emergencies.
Thank god I brought my Kindle and a few paperbacks, otherwise I would be bored as hell.
I think the others are starting to feel the pinch too.
Lacey is baking bread all the time.
Richard is fishing off the boat (and not catching a thing).
Tai is being Tai. We talk to each other, of course, and occasionally he’ll say something charming, and then I’ll admire the way his lips move when he’s talking, and then he’ll put up some wall again to keep me in my place.
But the food has been good and cocktail hour, albeit bumpy as hell, is a nice way for everyone to come together.
Hopefully that was the last of the waves.
* * *
Daisy’s Log: Day 4
Today Richard defied the odds of his dorkiness and caught a Mahi-mahi!
Tai cooked it for dinner. Highlight of the day, hands down.
(Have I mentioned there’s nothing sexier than a man that can cook?)
Oh, Lacey ran out of yeast and had a meltdown.
I read two books back to back.
The seas are calmer today. Last night wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be though, since I actually felt better being on deck in the fresh night air.
I’m starting to look forward to Tai’s extra strong coffee and our middle of the night rendezvous.
I’m starting to appreciate the silence.
* * *
Daisy’s Log: Day 5
I’ve discovered that there are fifteen steps from the cockpit to the front of the boat. I walked those fifteen steps for an hour, just to try and get my steps up. I miss working out. I miss going for runs. I miss going for a walk ANYWHERE.
Instead all I see is water. All I see is this boat.
All I see are Lacey and Richard and Tai.
Richard is growing a mustache and it looks awful, like someone glued pubes to his face.
Lacey is making flatbread now since she ran out of yeast. We pretend it tastes good.
And Tai has a sore back from sleeping on the couch. I only know this because I noticed him wincing when he was going up the stairs and I had to literally bug him forever until he finally admitted it.
The couch is way too small for his frame at any rate.
So I gave him my room.
He wouldn’t take it.
Then I lay down on the couch, so that if he really wanted me to move, he’d have to carry me (again…ugh…nice reminder there).
He tried. Oh, he tried to pick me up.
But then his back went out.
So I won.
He’s asleep in the cabin now. Richard and Lacey are up top, quietly arguing about something. This forced proximity is even starting to get to them.
And I’m scribbling into my journal, wishing I had something more important to talk about.
Oh yeah…five more days of this hell left! First thing I’m doing when I get off this damn boat is heading straight to a bar. I’m going to get drunk, I’m going to hook up with some hot tourist and let loose what will be ten days worth of sexual frustration of being so close to Tai (I mean, my dreams have been filthy).
Then I’m going to say adios to these three amigos for a very long time.
Maybe forever.
* * *
Daisy’s Log: Day 6
Guess what?
There’s no news at all, and there never is and never will be, because this sailing trip is like Groundhog Day, with every day exactly the same. There’s no relief, there’s no escape.
We are in a timeless loop.
WELL, except it turns out I’m an excellent poker player. I guess there’s something vacant about my face that makes it hard to tell if I’m bluffing or not. If I have bad cards, I’m smiling, if I have good cards, I’m smiling.
Seems like that’s been how I’ve operated most of my life, or at least Lacey made that comment slip once I beat her ass for the millionth time. Hey, got to work that shit to my advantage—plus I made fifty dollars and I won the last bottle of vodka. Not like I’m going to drink it all in the next four days but…actually, yeah I might.
Tensions on the ship are high.
What else is new?
All the good food ran out a few days ago and we’ve eaten all of our snacks, so we’re just down to canned food now. Gross. I feel the sodium swelling through my veins, along with the fact that I haven’t been able to exercise in nearly a week.
Honestly, Tai said something today that I never thought I’d hear him say.
He said, “I want this to be over now.”
And hell if he didn’t sum it up for all of us.
We are ALL dying to get off this boat. Lacey is having some weird panic attacks, Richard shaved his mustache off while the boat was rocking and cut himself up really bad, Tai has had a little too much wine at dinner, probably so he can pass out earlier (and cocktail hour is canceled since we can’t stand the sight of each other).
Fingers crossed the wind that’s been picking up lately will help push us there faster.
* * *
Daisy’s Log: Day 7
Here’s what I’ve been dreaming of lately.
I’m warning you…it’s pretty detailed.
I’m back in San Francisco. It’s a Saturday night and I’m in my apartment. I have my own space, I have my own room. I have privacy again.
I sit at home, in my own bed, enjoying a glass of Paso Robles Cab Sav, admiring my nails. Earlier I had gone to the salon to get them done and talked the technician’s ear off.
Then I get ready for the evening. I take a long shower—so much space! It’s not some cold hand-held thing in the tiny bathroom, it’s a real shower that I can turn around in and everything. I even have my wine in the shower!
I take a ridiculously long time washing my hair, getting it really clean, because there’s no one yelling at me to stop wasting water. I shave my legs, exfoliate, and use a hair mask. I step out into my huge bathroom and slather on body butter and let it dry and then I blow-dry my hair (I miss my blow-dryer! Why did I think Tai would have one?). Once dry and shiny (no more of these salt-soaked tangles from the wind), I curl my hair in long waves like I used to, then I spend extra time on my makeup. Not the two palettes I’m stuck with here, but the collection I have at home that is overflowing with choices.
Then it’s time to get dressed. I open my closet and ta-da! I have scores of clothes to choose from. They’re all freshly laundered, none of them are wrinkled and smell like diesel after being on this godforsaken boat.
I get ready. Choose a purse and then head out.
Where do I go?
I can go anywhere!
I can walk down the street to Hayes St, stand in a ridiculously long line for Salt & Straw and be around people, people who aren’t these three idiots. Or I could go to Blue Bottle for a coffee, perhaps catch the eye of a cute guy working in the shop. I could get a spicy mango margarita at the Sugar Bar, or head up the street to A Mano, my favorite Italian restaurant and eat my heart out. I would order every single dish, drink every wine, so grateful to not be slurpi
ng on cans of soup and watching the alcohol slowly run out.
Then, THEN, when I was good and ready, I would find myself a guy.
Not just any guy.
A guy that looks exactly like Tai, down to his battered knuckles and the scar at the bottom of his lip, and the flecks of gold in his mahogany eyes. I would find his exact replica, bring him home, and bring his head between my legs until I had a million orgasms.
And this version of him would be so much less complicated than the version that’s staring at me while I write this.
It’s five in the morning, by the way. The sun will come up in an hour or so. I’m holding a flashlight in between my teeth, trying not to drool. Not that it’s something Tai hasn’t seen before.
I have to admit, as much as I’m dreaming about being back home, being off this ship, about to bang a guy that looks exactly like Tai, I think these middle-of-the-night shifts are something I would miss.
It’s like I feel closer to him every time the sun rolls around. I at least feel…grounded, even out at sea.
And the way he’s been staring at me lately…I can’t pretend I don’t feel the heat in his eyes, and the curiosity behind that. It’s a look that makes me feel alive, like I have something to look forward to, even though I don’t know what it is.
But for all that Tai looks at me, and all that I look at him, there’s nothing between us.
And so, I dream.
* * *
Daisy’s Log: Day 8
Get me off this fucking ship!
Nine
Daisy
It’s day nine on the boat, and I’m in charge of dinner.
It ain’t easy.
I mean, it should be since I’m just opening up a can of chunky chicken soup, but that’s hard to do when the boat is swinging from side to side, violently crashing down on the waves. It’s been this back and forth action all day, but this up and down is something new. Feels like we’re landing on the back of a turtle.
Lovewrecked Page 9