Page 52 of Second Chance Vacation

“Nothing—just…it’s not a big deal.”

I want to scream. I want to shake her out of this insistence that she needs to be okay all the time. I don’t. I just stand there. Staring. Hoping that she will come to her senses. The moment she steps onto the dock, her breath hitches in her throat. I intentionally rest my hand on her back in an attempt to quell her worry, but it doesn’t seem to do anything. She is so caught up in her fear that I am convinced a truck could crash into the lifeguard house, and she wouldn’t even flinch.

“It’s this boat over here!” Savannah’s perky tone causes me to grow even more irritated than I already am. Is she seriously so caught up in her own life that she doesn’t notice her best friend on the verge of a breakdown? Wes’s gaze shifts to Gen, a look of worry plastered on his expression.

Well, at least one of them is noticing.

“Is she okay?” He does his best to direct his words toward me, but they catch Savannah’s attention anyway. She looks at Gen, and for the first time since we arrived here, she seems concerned.

“I’m okay,” Gen quips at Wes.

Wes and Savannah seem to take this at face value, and I want to scream at the top of my lungs,SHE’S OBVIOUSLY NOT OKAY, but the moment we step onto the boat, Gen unintentionally pulls the rip cord of the situation.

Her eyes begin to water as she struggles to get air into her lungs.

TWENTY

GEN

My face feels like I am baking in the sun, not the shaded dock the boat is parked at. The sweat pebbling along my brow leaves me feeling faint. Jackson’s voice is faded out of my periphery.

Viv—Viv!

I do not answer. I don’t think I can.

Despite the balmy summer day, my skin is covered in goosebumps, a weird mixture of chill and overheating. I can’t breathe.

I can’tbreathe.

Someone help me, for the love of God,I can’t breathe!

* * *

We didn’t go out without Dad often, so when we did, Mom tried to make it extra special. He worked a lot, but he still made time to be with Mom and me as much as possible. He was out of town, so she decided it was the perfect day to go to the small lake outside of town. It wasn’t typically open to swimming, it was mostly for boats, but we swam anyway.

Mom said it’s our special place, just the two of us.

“Let's go for a swim!” She pepped up, pulling my arms through the lifejacket provided by the boat rental. She always made sure that I was wearing mine. She said kids needed them. I wasn’t the strongest swimmer, so she said it kept me safe.

We jumped off the side of the boat, the giggle I couldn’t fight causing a small amount of water to get into my mouth. It tasted weird, dirty—but I recouped quickly. I coughed a few times. Mom told me to hold my hands above my head.

I did. It helped.

Swimming in the pond was one of my favorite activities. It was different from the pool by our house. It was just the two of us, not the annoying boys who tugged on my hair when Mom and Dad weren’t looking.

It felt like we were there for hours, but I was not convinced I knew for sure how long it was. My understanding of time seemed to always be skewed. She threw me in the water, pulling laughs from my lungs. My body hit the water with a loud crack, but it didn’t hurt. It was fun. It was Mom and me.

Within seconds, it changed. I was unsure why, but I was being pushed up onto the boat without warning. I didn’t want to get back onto the boat. I wanted to play. I wanted to swim. I turned around to tell Mom that, but she was struggling to get into the boat. Her head was bobbing underwater. She couldn’t breathe.

“Mommy!”

She didn’t respond. She continued to choke on water, unable to pull herself up despite her attempts to grab onto the boat. I didn’t know what to do. Tears were streaming down my face, my voice was hoarse from screaming, and despite my efforts, I couldn’t stop. I just stood there screaming.

“Mommy!” I screamed desperately as she dipped below water, that time not coming up anymore. She was fully submerged, and I was panicking. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t help her.

What felt like hours went by of me screaming, trying to get her to hear me, trying to convince her to get back into the boat.

She didn’t.

---