Page 77 of The Last Time

She laughs and screams as I take the boat to the edge of the water then cut the steering wheel to go back in.

We keep it up for a while, enjoying the wind against our skin, through our hair, forgetting that we’re both older now. That life has fucked us both.

After seeing her broken and crumbled in front of me the other day, I knew I would do anything for her.

It gutted me. The worst was knowing there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to take away her pain.

Once we get to the part of the water where I know my anchor can reach, I slow the boat to a stop.

I throw the anchor down until I feel the vibrations of it hitting the ground.

“Is it time for some wine?” she asks excitedly.

“Absolutely. And I also have a little something for dessert.”

I pull it out of my bag, along with the fork I packed.

“Ooh, what is it?”

I take a seat on the back of the boat, where the long row of seating is, then motion for her to sit in between my legs.

“It’s my mom’s special peach pie.”

“Shut the hell up! I haven’t had your mom’s pie in ten years.”

She sits in between my legs, then leans her back against me in the crook of my arm.

“I forgot you’ve had this before.”

“It’s my favorite.”

I pull the lid off the container and grab the fork. I push a little sliver of the pie on the fork.

“Open wide,” I say.

She follows my instructions and opens without hesitation.

A moan falls from her lips as her head falls back into my arm. “It’s heaven. Absolute heaven.”

I take a bite for myself. “She knows how to make a mean peach pie.”

We alternate bites as she leans into me, enjoying the sunset. It’s something I would’ve loved to do with Lauren, but I picture her telling me it was too muggy out or her hair would get messed up.

She would definitely tell me peach pie has too many calories.

I place the empty container on the floor and then wrap my arms around her.

Kissing the side of her forehead, I watch the colors continue to fade away, replaced by darkness. We talk for a while, about my parents, about her mom. What they’ve been up to all these years.

I tell her about my parents’ retirement.

She tells me she doesn’t know when her mom can retire. Since she spent most of her childhood being the caretaker, her mom didn’t have a retirement plan and didn’t get any of her father’s in the divorce settlement.

She tells me she will never allow herself to be financially dependent on anyone.

I respect the hell out of her for it.

Knowing it’s going to take us at least thirty minutes to get back to the marina, I figure we should leave now.

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