Makayla released her hold on Brian’s waist when he pulled to a stop next to the twenty-six foot sailboat. It looked completely different than it had just over a month ago. She slid her leg over the seat and pulled the helmet off, handing it to Brian.
“Henry said that you and Jason are going to install the rigging today,” she said, walking over to run her hand over the glossy back of the boat. “Do you know why he named it the Defiance?”
“Jason said something about when Henry was younger that he was going to sail around the world or something like that,” Brian said with a shrug. “He bought the boat when he was like in his early twenties.”
“Dad planned on eloping with mom and sailing off into the sunset with her,” Jason said, coming out from between the Defiance and the boat next to it.
“Did he?” Makayla asked, looking up at the back of the sailboat. It looked huge from the ground, but she still didn’t think it was big enough to sail around the world in. “Wouldn’t he need a bigger boat?”
Jason laughed and patted the stern. “No, he wouldn’t. Dad forgot to ask mom what she thought of the idea. Turns out, mom used to get really seasick whenever they went out,” he said with a grin. “Of course, it might have been because she was pregnant with me. Anyway, grandpa, dad’s dad, told him that his little act of defiance about not listening to him was going to get him in trouble one day.”
“So, Henry named the boat after the fact that he knocked grandma up?” Makayla asked in confusion.
Jason laughed and shook his head. “No, he named it after his dog,” he said. “He likes to tell the other story, but mom told us the truth. He had a dog that was a pain in the behind, always doing stuff he wasn’t supposed to be doing. He named the mutt Defiance. Mom said after he bought the sailboat, he was just as ornery as the old hound when it came to keeping it when his parents told him he should sell it. When he asked mom to name it, she called it the Defiance. The name stuck.”
“Okay, I think. The old man sure has some funny names for his dogs,” Makayla said, shaking her head. “I was going to do a little more polishing on the stanchions. Did you bring the other supplies Henry ordered with you?”
“Yeah,” Jason said, nodding back toward his truck. “Life vests, foul weather gear, an EPIRB for the Defiance and a PLB for each life vest, ladder, and a few other things. Dad will pick up the rest of the stuff either today or tomorrow.”
“EPIRB – PLB?” Makayla asked in confusion.
Brian nodded, his expression serious. “There have been a few incidents lately where boats have sunk or capsized. Henry wanted to make sure that the Defiance was fitted with the safety equipment first. If he plans on sailing down to the Keys or over to the Bahamas it is always smart to have the right gear on board. The EPIRB stands for Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon. It is very similar to what they have on planes. A PLB is fairly new for most private boaters.”
Jason nodded and bent to pick up a plastic bag near his feet. He rummaged around in it for a moment before he pulled out a small yellow and black device. He handed it to Makayla.
“So, what does it do?” She asked, turning it over in her hand.
“It saves your life if you are lucky,” Jason said in a quiet voice. “PLB stands for Personal Locator Beacon. You won’t last long if you end up overboard. This emits a signal through a satellite system so that you can be found.”
“The ocean is a big place and it’s easy to get lost in it,” Brian said.
“We’ll attach one to each life vest. You can do that if you don’t mind,” Jason said, reaching for the PLB in Makayla’s hand and returning it to the bag he was holding. “I’ll bring the vests up in a little while and put them in the galley. There are six of them.”
“Okay, is there anything else you want me to do while you guys finish up?” Makayla asked, taking the bag.
“If you don’t mind, you can clean the inside. The new cabinets still have the stickers and stuff on them and maybe some dirty hand prints from where we installed them,” Jason said with a grin. “I hate cleaning.”
“Sure, let me know if there is anything else,” Makayla replied, heading for the steps.
“Makayla,” Brian said, hurrying up to her as she started to climb the stairs up to the top of the sailboat.
Makayla turned. Standing on the second step, she was eye level with Brian. She watched warily as he stepped closer.
“What?” She asked in a tone a little sharper than she meant to.
Brian paused in front of her and gazed into her eyes for several long seconds before he spoke. He glanced over to where Jason had walked over to his truck before turning back to her. A slightly crooked smile curved his lips.
“I was wondering if you’d like to go to the beach this weekend,” he said. “I’m meeting up with some friends and I know you haven’t been out much.”
Makayla bit her lip and thought for a moment. “Henry is supposed to take me for a sailing lesson,” she replied.
Brian grimaced, but nodded his head. “I’ll give you my number, text me if you want to go and I’ll pick you up,” he said before reaching out to touch her hand. “About this morning….”
Makayla shook her head. “I’m cool with it,” she said, pulling away and turning. “Give me your number later and I’ll call you so you can have mine.”
She didn’t look back. She was afraid he would say something stupid, like the kiss had been a mistake or something. A part of her wasn’t ready to deal with it yet, while another part just wanted to hold on to the memory without words screwing it up. She had learned from listening to Tisha that talking about it seemed to take some of the magic of the moment away. Plus, she wasn’t the kind to kiss and tell.
*.*.*
An hour later, she had finished polishing the last of the stanchions that she had been working on. The long, thin poles that held up the lifeline gleamed in the early morning sunlight. She stood back and looked at the work before grinning when she heard the guys cussing again. They had been doing a lot of that this morning.
She picked up the bottle of polish and the rags and carried them down to the galley. She had to admit, the inside was as gorgeous as the outside. She set the polish and rags down on the small table and pulled off her tattered latex gloves. Twisting to the left, she began removing all the clear plastic coverings off of the cushions.
The cabin was small, but built for maximum efficiency. A long, narrow path cut through the center all the way to the front of the hull. At the very front when it came to a point, there was another set of cushions that made up the bed.
She finished pulling the plastic off the long couch before moving to the front. It didn’t take long to strip the plastic from it. She grimaced when she saw a dirty hand print on the upper left hand side. Retrieving a clean cloth and some spray cleaner, she crawled up on the cushion and scrubbed the spot.
She was about to scoot back off the bed when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Pulling it out, she silently groaned when she recognized her mom’s number. She set the cleaning supplies down on a small shelf at the foot of the bed and pressed the connect button.
“Hey, mom,” Makayla said in a forced cheerful voice. “How are you doing today?”
“Makayla?” Teresa’s voice whispered, wavering before she breathed deeply. “Where are you? You were supposed to be home an hour ago? Are you in school?”
“I’m staying with Henry. Don’t you remember?” Makayla asked as a feeling of dread burn in her stomach. “Are you still at the rehab place?”
“Rehab?” Teresa asked in a distracted voice. “Who’s Henry? Is he a boy you met? My dad’s name is Henry.”
The feeling that something was wrong grew the more her mom talked. She sounded preoccupied, incoherent, and her voice had the slight edge of a slur that reminded Makayla of when she had taken one too many of her pain meds. Lying back on the bed, she stared up at the ceiling of the cabin and listened, trying to figure out what she should do. Her mom was all alone over there.
“Mom, where are you?” Makayla tried again, interrupting her mom’s confused ramblings. “Is there a nurse nearby?”
“Nurse? I’m at home, Makayla. I’m waiting for you. Where are you?” Teresa mumbled. “I need my medicine. Do you know where it is? Rob is supposed to get more for me, but he hasn’t come back yet.”
Makayla sat up, barely remembering to duck her head so she wouldn’t hit the ceiling above the bed. A low hiss escaped her when she heard her mom mention Rob’s name. If her mom had gone back with that jerk, then things had definitely taken a turn for the worse. She should never have come here. If she had remained in Tampa, she could have been there for her mom.
“Mom, what happened? Why are you out of the hospital? Where is Rob?” Makayla asked in a rushed, aggravated tone.
“The door,” Teresa muttered. “Rob forgot his key.”
“Mom,” Makayla said urgently. “Mom! Don’t answer the door. Don’t let him in. Mom, please! Please, don’t let him in. I’ll call Henry. He’ll know what to do. Please,” Makayla begged as tears streamed down her face. “Please, don’t let him in. Please.”
Makayla bit her knuckles when she heard the sound of a man’s voice in the background. She rocked forward, fear choking her, when she heard her mom release a soft sob. Bowing her head and resting her forehead on the palm of her hand, she waited when she heard the man ask her mom for the phone.
“Who is this?” The man demanded.
Makayla’s head jerked up and she stared blindly out the open hatch. Relief choked her at the familiar voice on the other end. Wiping at the tears streaming down her cheeks, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath and answered him.
“Henry?” She whispered. “Mom… Rob… What’s going on?”
Henry’s deep sigh echoed over the phone. “I’ve got this, Makayla. I’ll talk to you when I get home tonight,” he replied in a gruff tone.
“What about mom?” Makayla asked in a husky voice. “She shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“She’s not,” Henry said. “I’ll take care of this,” he added before hanging up the phone.
Makayla slowly lowered her phone and blindly stared at it. Henry’s note said he had an errand to run. That errand had obviously been an unexpected trip to Tampa. Her fingers slowly curled around her phone. The overwhelming urge to throw it, to break something swept through her. Deep down, she was afraid that if she gave into the feelings, she might not be able to stop. Turning, she buried her face in the pillow on the bed in an effort to smother her tortured sobs. The old fear of becoming what her mother was once again swelled up like a tidal wave that threatened to drown her.
I won’t become the person my mom is – I won’t, she thought in despair even as the seed of fear grew.