Page 102 of Britta & the Beach Boy
“It’s off? What does that mean?”
“When we were in the Azores, Dex made me promise that if anything happened to him, you wouldn’t be left caring for him.” Archie’s tone is firm now—protective—but I’m not sure if he’s trying to protect me or Dex. “Surfing is risky business. He didn’t want you to feel obligated to care for him the way you had to for your mum if it came to that.”
I’m knocked silent with Archie’s words.
“But I’m his wife. Why wouldn’t I want to care for him?” I’m feeling both defensive and guilty, replaying all the conversations I’ve had with Dex about Mom. How I don’t regret giving up my own dreams to take care of her, even while I resent the fact that I felt like it was my duty as her daughter.
“You’re his wife in name only. He understands that. If he can’t keep his part of your arrangement, he doesn’t want you to feel you have to, either.”
In name only.
The words are true, but painful to hear. I’d started to think of myself as Dex’s wife.
“I should be there, Archie.” My voice is a whisper.
In the distance, a wave crashes on shore before being sucked back to sea to be reformed into another wave. From here, the sound is gentle and soothing. Up close, they’d be so loud, I wouldn’t have heard Archie’s next words.
“He won’t want you here, Britta. Not yet. Not until we know exactly how bad it is. I’m sorry. But I still thought you should know. The story will be picked up by the sport reporters soon, and I didn’t want you to hear it from them. “
I appreciate Archie sounds like the words are as hard to say as they are to hear, but that doesn’t mean they don’t knock the wind out of me like a punch to the gut.
“Okay.” It’s the only word I can get out between trying to catch my breath.
“I’ll keep you updated.”
That’s the last thing I hear Archie say. I end the call before a goodbye can follow.
Chapter thirty-nine
Britta
My eyes bounce from my phone to the ocean. I’m not sure which one I hate more right now. The thing that’s hurt Dex or the thing that made it possible to deliver the news to me.
“Britta?” Dad says behind me before putting a hand on my shoulder. “What’s happened?”
I push back tears and turn around, knowing the truth has to come out now for a lot of reasons, but mostly because I don’t have the strength to dance around it with my family.
“Dex is hurt.” That’s as much as I can get out before my throat threatens to close.
“How bad?” Dad’s eyes are soft with concern, and I know he’s as worried about Dex as he is about me.
“Really bad. He’s in the hospital. He can’t walk. He can barely talk. A severe concussion. He’s been in the ICU since Monday.”
Dad nods, and I wonder if we’re both thinking of Mom’s last days when she couldn’t walk or talk either. “He needs you there.”
I drop my gaze to the grains of sand blowing across the patio. “He doesn’t want me there.”
The only sound that follows is the wind clanging the metal clamps against the cement poles the volleyball nets are attached to. There’s a dark rhythm to the clinking, like the ticking of a clock running out of time.
“Hmm,” Dad huffs thoughtfully. “Want and need are two different things.”
I’m so surprised by his answer that I can’t help but look at him. “What do you mean?”
Dad wraps his arm around my shoulder and guides me back to the chair I’d been sitting in before, then takes the one across from it.
“Why did you marry Dex?”
I search for some way to tell him, but no words that he’ll understand come to me.
