“He goes to bed—”
Sally clears her throat. “If you don’t think your mother knows Ja—”
My vigorous head shaking stops her from completing Jase’s name.
She goes on, “...that your mother knows that Jay-sus himself couldn’t keep you away. She also knows his schedule. If you don’t think she does, I’m very disappointed.”
Malcolm grins. “Don’t you know, Sally, that I’m not allowed to know his name? And that’s okay, but I know he has a great mom, and he’s in bed on school nights by eight-thirty.”
I reach out to Malcolm’s knee. “It’s not that you...it’s that—”
His lips still my answer with a kiss. “Stop. You’ll be home in time. I promise. But first, Brian and I secured an afternoon charter out on the bay. I can’t get you to an ocean this weekend, but if we hurry to the docks, I can get you to the gulf.”
“What?” Sally asks.
“Yes,” Brian answers. “We called some old friends. They used to do charters all the time for the team. Apparently, they still do. When they heard that Pep and I were looking for a last-minute boat, they cancelled some poor sap’s reservations...”
“No!” Sally and I say together.
“It’s no big deal. Something about a fiftieth anniversary...”
“What?” Sally says, her eyes huge.
Malcolm’s laugh rings over our table. “No. Brian’s exaggerating. Like he always does...”
Brian innocently shrugs.
“Really,” Malcolm goes on, “it’s not a big boat, but it’s big enough to take us out in the gulf with some wine and food and show you lovely ladies why you need to return to the sunshine state. And no one’s reservations were cancelled—just the captain’s day off.”
“I-I...” I begin, unsure what to say.
“Let me guess,” Malcolm says with a grin. “You’ve never been on a charter to the Gulf of Mexico before?”
My worries about Jase disappear. Though a small part of me still feels guilty that I won’t be home sooner, I know Malcolm won’t let me down. He’ll get me there before Jase goes to bed.
“I was going to say that since I’m the one who’s kidnapped, I guess I don’t have a choice.” When Malcolm simply looks at me, I let my smile grow. “And I’m very excited. You’re right, I’ve never been on a boat in any sort of saltwater before.” I kiss his cheek. “Thank you!”
One of the Great Lakes is the only large body of water I’d ever seen before this weekend. A few times when Alec and I were young, our parents took us to Lake Michigan. I recall as a child thinking that it was an ocean. It’s big and blue and cold, the last a contrast to this bay. Each time I’ve stepped into the waves here, the temperature is much warmer. There’s something about the salt air, too. “I can’t wait,” I confess.
“Good,” Malcolm says, laying a few bills on the table. “Then let’s go.”
I’m glad the charter comes complete with a captain and one crewman, even if we did mess up their day off. I don’t doubt that Malcolm could steer a boat if he said he could. So far, I haven’t found many things—anything—that he can’t do. Yet it’s nice to have him beside me as the boat crashes through the waves, taking us beyond the confines of Tampa Bay and out into the gulf.
While the captain drives—is that what one does with a boat?—the mate is responsible for keeping us fed while at the same time supplying us with wine and water. As plates of food continue to appear, I decide that once again, this is like nothing I’ve ever done. I almost wonder if it’s really me sailing through the blue as the saltwater sprays in tiny droplets upon my sunglasses and we move farther and farther away from Tampa. Once we pass under a giant bridge, high above our heads, Malcolm tells me we’re in the Gulf of Mexico and asks me what I think.
“Are there ever times when you can’t come up with words that are sufficient to express what you’re thinking?”
He smiles, not rushing me or pushing me to say more.
“It’s stunning,” I say, knowing my answer is woefully insufficient.
The pad of Malcolm’s thumb runs over my cheek, wiping away the sea droplets. “Are you wearing sunscreen?”
“Yes, and sunglasses, and a hat when the wind doesn’t blow it from my head.”
“Your cheeks are the perfect pink and...” His finger drops to the edge of my beach cover-up. “I can’t wait to find your tan lines.” We kiss. “Mandy, you’re stunning. This is water and sun. Over seventy percent of the earth is covered with water and the sun hits everywhere at some time. But you are...” His deep voice rumbles through me, surpassing the crashing waves and motor’s roar. “...you are...well, there’s only one of you.”
“Thank goodness,” Sally says, interrupting our private moment. “I love her, but the world isn’t ready for two of her.”
We all laugh.
As we all settle to watch the amazing view, Malcolm reaches for my hand. It’s the touch, the connection, and as our fingers intertwine, I contemplate how there’s only one Malcolm too.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Amanda
Is it true that for every good moment there’s an equally as harsh one? I’m not sure, but as I sit across the desk from the principal at Jase’s school, I feel that I may be paying my dues for the lovely weekend Malcolm and I shared only a short week and a half ago.
Sitting here is worse than any time I was ever called to the principal’s office as a student. Though I did attend the same school, the principal has changed. As I sit and take in the cases of books and the windows that look out to the playground, I can’t help but think that not much else is different. It’s like a time machine where only the colors of paint and carpet change along with the players, yet so much stays the same. If I could, I’d willingly go back in time to be sitting here for my own transgressions, instead of hearing about my son’s difficulties.
Through this all, I’ve come to realize that Mrs. Landecker is a caring woman and educator. Even though she is, I’d rather not have become so well acquainted with her. Unfortunately, this isn’t our first encounter. I wish I could even say it was only our second. A little over two months into the school year and this is our fourth.
“Amanda,” she says as I contemplate that the fact that we’ve gotten to a first-name basis is not necessarily a good thing. “We know,” she goes on, “that you’re doing all you can on your end. The thing is I’m beginning to think that Mrs. Williams and Jason aren’t a good fit. That doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with either one, just that there might be a better match for Jason.”
She’s beginning to think? Because five minutes into our second meeting, I could already have told her that. What does that mean, though?
“What options do we have?” Please don’t say private school. My fingers bob against the arms of the chair as I fidget in place. “This is the school I attended, the one Jase’s father and uncle attended. Are you suggesting switching schools?”