Page 157 of Forget Me Not

“Well,” he sighs heavily, as if it’s the longest story. I hope to God he doesn’t decide to tell it. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out his wallet. Why he’s carrying it, I can’t say I know. Mine’s locked in my safe because I don’t need it when the nearest spot of land is miles away. He opens it up, pulling out a crinkled picture and handing it to me.

I take it, looking at what must be his family. A young woman, a little boy, and a baby girl.

“What’s this?”

“Mine.”

He says it so seriously, it’s hard to think of him as just a kid anymore. He may be a couple years younger than me, but he’s got his priorities figured out where I’m still struggling to fall asleep every night because I left mine behind.

“Cute kids.” I hand him the picture back and he takes it, his gaze coasting over their faces as if he’s memorizing them.

“Thanks. Don’t be checking out my wife, either.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He stares at me again, probably speculating.

“So, what’s your deal, Cap?” he asks, sitting forward, eyes still on the picture between his fingers. “You got a family?”

Not anymore. This summer, though . . . those people were the closest I’ve ever come.

“No.”

“No wife? Girlfriend?”

“Why the interrogation?”

“Shit,” he laughs. “Sorry, man. I’m not good with people.”

“Me either,” I admit, and then, just because it doesn’t matter in the end. “I left her to come here.”

“Broke up with her to come here?”

“No, it was never a permanent thing. Just passing through her town and settled down for a month or two.”

“You love her?”

Fuck.

“It’s just . . . I saw her picture above your bed.”

“Why were you in my room?”

He holds up his hands in defense. “Just fixing the toilet.”

“It’s just a picture.”

He blows out a sharp breath. “Man, you are one tough bitch to crack. You know, first time I came out here, the boat my cousin was working on sank. Scared me so bad, I almost quit.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because this is what my dad did. And his dad before him. We got back to port and I called my wife, fiancé at the time, telling her I was coming home and she told me I better not.” He chuckles. “She knew this was my dream. I always looked up to my dad. He always kept food on the table. Roof over our heads. We were warm at home while he was out here in the freezing cold. Can’t fault him for those winters away because of how great he made the summers, being home.”

“That’s why you work for Big Crab, then? Your family?”

He nods sheepishly. “Pay is better. I’d rather have my own boat, but shit gets expensive.” He props the picture up in front of him on the dash watching them with a longing I’ve come to know all too fucking well. “I want to make them proud, like my dad did me.”

A pit opens in the bottom of my stomach. Before I left, Pap told me I better make him proud. I knew I’d never see him again, but I promised him anyway. Now, I can’t escape the sinking feeling that maybe he meant something else.

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