Page 19 of The Art of Loving Lacy
“Lacy?”
Dane. Focus. It’s Dane.She heard his voice, but her mind was still struggling with the idea of a great white in the water around the boat.
“Lace?”
Dane knelt before her, his hands placed firmly on her shaking knees. Lacy tried to focus on his concerned eyes, but her mind tumbled back to the treacherously hot afternoon twenty years earlier—the afternoon she’d successfully pushed away for so many years. She knew it lingered in the recesses of her mind, but she’d never expected it to claw its way out, or to consume her when it did. The memory spiraled into her brain, seizing her concentration. The sun had beaten down on her family all afternoon as they trekked through the remote village of Bora Bora, finally taking a break at a restaurant built on pilings at the end of a long pier. The pilings looked as if they’d sprouted naturally from the water, and the entire pier seemed to sway with the movement of the water. She’d been seven then, and they’d been on an adventure. That’s what her father had called it,an adventure. He said her mother had wanted to go all her life, so they went. She remembered complaining to him about the heat and feeling guilty because she knew she was ruining the afternoon for her mother. She’d complained so much that he’d finally said, “There’s the water. You know how to swim.” Lacy’s body was sticky from sweat. She remembered how her curls had tightened and frizzed, like the Brillo her mother had used to clean dishes. The water looked so refreshing; she could almost feel the relief it would bring her. Her mother had told her that they’d be cool as soon as the sun set, and she’d laughed—like her father had been teasing about jumping in the water—but by then Lacy had already had her heart set on jumping in and cooling off. Even if she had to pretend to fall in so she didn’t get in trouble.
“Lace. Look at me. Lacy.”
Dane’s voice wavered in her foggy state. Lacy felt the rough wood of the pier scratch the bottom of her toes as she pretended to fall off the edge. She felt the cold water against her skin as her toes broke through the surface and she slipped beneath, her eyes closed tight, as if she were seven years old again. She’d popped up above the surface quickly, kicking her feet wildly, excited and worried about fooling her parents. Something strong and cold—a car, it had to be a car—dragged its full length against her thigh—hard and painful. Spears of anguish seared through her.A car. I’ve been hit by a car!The water turned red around her, and it had taken a second before she realized it was blood. Her blood.Wait. That can’t be right. Cars don’t go in the water. Daddy! Daddy!
Dane’s face blurred before her. Her heartbeat was drowned out by the sound of Dane’s insistent voice.
“Lacy!”
Someone’s hand touched her cheek. They were pulling her toward them. She was being carried, laid on her back. Lacy flailed, trying to get away from the water, but her arms were met with something firm.A mattress. I’m on a bed.
“Lace, you’re okay.”
Dane. I’m with Dane, on a boat.Reality crept back to Lacy as Savannah’s voice came through her foggy mind.
“I’ll get water,” Savannah said.
“Panic attack. I’ve seen it a million times,” Hugh said.
The right side of the bed sank beneath someone’s weight. Then Dane’s arms were around her, holding her tight, comforting her. She could smell him.Dane. Dane.
His breath was warm on her cheek. “It’s okay, Lacy. I’m right here. You’re safe.”
Safe. I’m safe.Lacy blinked, trying to push away the memory. She was cold, so very cold. Even with Dane holding her, she still trembled. She held tight to him, her eyes finally coming into focus.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s okay,” Dane assured her, kissing her forehead.
Savannah came rushing through the door—the door that just an hour earlier Lacy had locked so she and Dane could fool around.
“Is she okay?” Savannah handed a cup of water to Dane.
“She’s going to be just fine.” Dane sat up, and Lacy wrapped her arms around his waist and clung tightly to him. “Lace, drink some water.” He helped Lacy take a sip, steadying her shaking hands.
Lacy nodded. “I’m okay,” she said, avoiding Savannah’s worried stare.
“What happened? One minute we were talking, and the next, Lacy looked like she’d seen a ghost,” Savannah said.
Lacy covered her scar with her hand, and a shiver ran through her again. She moved closer to Dane, wishing she could crawl beneath the safety of his skin.
“I can take us back in,” Hugh offered. “Why don’t you stay with Lacy? Savannah, let’s give them some privacy.” Not only did Hugh race cars, but he’d also spent a few summers racing boats.
“You going to be okay? She’s a big one,” Dane asked.
His eyes never wavered from Lacy; his grip remained strong and secure. There was no doubt in Lacy’s mind that he was not going to leave her side—even if it meant staying out on the boat all night.
“Sheesh. Piece of cake,” Hugh said.
Hugh and Savannah left them alone, and the room became excruciatingly quiet, bringing Lacy’s embarrassment to the forefront.
“Lace, talk to me,” he urged.
