Undertow (15 page)

“Aesa Fredriksen, do not take that tone with me,” he warned, pressing into the room further. I held off his advance the best I could with my tiny frame.

“Well maybe you should back up for a second and check yours,
Far,
” I sneered. “You know what. I'm not doing this here. Go outside. I'll meet you in the car.”

His look was an odd combination of fury and confusion, but I didn't give it a chance to soak in. I shuttled him out the door in a hurry and slammed it behind him. I then turned to find Decker sitting up in his bed, eyeing me tightly.

“I've got to go,” I said, stating the obvious. “I'll leave you Jimmy's truck. If you could return it for me, I'd appreciate it.”

“He was just worried about you,” he offered, his unsolicited opinion falling on deaf ears.

“Don't worry. I'll make sure you're in the clear on this.”

“I'm not worried about me,” he argued, moving to get out of the bed.

“You should be,” I barked, wheeling on him in my stressed state. “You heard him before we set out to sea. He wasn't kidding. If you like your job, you'll stay out of this and let me deal with it.” I stormed to the bathroom to grab my bag of undergarments and made my way to the door to stuff my feet into my boots. “I'm sorry,” I told him, trying to take a cleansing breath. “This is what he does to me. I don't mean to take it out on you. Just listen: I'll make sure you're not to blame for anything that happened, and I'll also be sure he knows that nothing happened here, okay?”

“Where are you going to go?”

“Home, I guess. For now. We'll see how long I stay there if this doesn't go well.” He made his way out of the bed, headed toward me. I cut him off at the pass before he could reach me. “Please,” I pleaded, my arm extended to deflect him. “I need to deal with this now. I'll see you later. I'm sure the boys will all be at the bar tonight. The ship will be in for repairs, no doubt. It'll be at least twenty-four hours before you're going anywhere. Dad will get in touch with you, I'm sure, though you may not like what he has to say.”

I reached for the doorknob and turned it, easing the rickety door open. To keep up the façade, I lightly closed it behind me while my father looked on from his truck, his expression still grim. The sunlight on my face felt amazing, but the air was cold, and I didn't have my coat. I would have loved to have gone anywhere but into that truck with him, but my options were limited at best. Staying with Decker wasn't even remotely feasible for a variety of obvious reasons, and I wasn't going to get far walking around Alaska in October without a jacket. Begrudgingly, I made my way to the passenger door and opened it, hopping up into the worn-out seat.

He didn't move for a moment. He just gripped the wheel and stared straight ahead, too ashamed to even look at me. It was as if my words hadn't permeated his anger at all. He had contrived a theory about why I was there and what I had done. The truth didn't matter.

“I did
not
do what you're thinking, Dad, and if you're hellbent on assuming you're right then you truly don't know me at all, and you don't know your crew either.” Silence. “Furthermore,” I continued, hating the quiet between us. “I'm an adult. Even if I had done what you think I did, are you seriously going to punish me for it? I'm not a child anymore, Dad. I'm a grown woman, even if you can't see that. What I do with my life and who I choose to do it with is for me to decide, not you. And you have no right to punish anyone who gets caught in the crossfire. That's not your decision either.”

When he didn't immediately respond, I prepared to continue rambling until he got mad enough to fight back. It turned out that my preparations were for naught.

“You're right,” he bit out, the words paining him greatly. “I shouldn't have done that. I was just—”

I waited for his words with bated breath. My father had never admitted he was wrong, and, even though he hadn't used those words exactly, what he'd said was tantamount to an apology in my world. I could barely believe what I'd heard.

“Just what, Dad?” I gently urged, hoping he would continue and not clam up on me as he had always done.

“I was so scared when I came out and saw you floating in the water—saw Decker loading your lifeless body into the basket. The Coast Guard radioed in that you were finally breathing and appeared somewhat stable, but it wasn't enough. I needed to see you with my own eyes. It's all I've thought about since that moment. So when I came back, I went to the bar, hoping you would have stopped there to see Jimmy, and he told me he gave you his truck to take home. I saw it here as I drove past, and—”

“You thought the daughter you’d nearly lost was a raging whore and you snapped.” My words were neither a question nor an indictment. They were a statement of fact.

“Yes.”

“And now that you know the truth,” I pressed, wanting to hear him say it aloud.

“I see that I misjudged you.”

“Dad,” I said softly. “Why in God's name would you think that I would do that?” I felt a bit guilty knowing that what he'd imagined I was doing nearly did transpire, but the reality was that even if I had had sex with Decker that night, it would have been under totally different circumstances than he was imagining. That stifled my guilt almost entirely. Almost.

I heard the rubber of the wheel protest as he squeezed it tightly, fighting against something inside him.

“Dad. Please . . . ”

“Because it wouldn't be the first time I saw a familiar car parked outside that motel when the owner thought I would not be around to find it there.” His words cut me to the core. He was speaking of my mother. He had to be. “That situation is long past and irreparable, but I will not let you follow down the same path and make those same mistakes. Those thoughts clouded my judgment,” he professed, hesitating slightly before continuing. “I'm sorry, Aesa. I was wrong.”

He started up the truck before his words could even fully be processed: my mother had cheated on him.

“Dad—”

“I don't wish to speak about it anymore. I know that was a lot to dump on you, and I'm sorry, but you wanted to know why my reaction to you being there was so unfavorable. Now you know.”

He put the vehicle in gear and backed out of his spot, heading out onto the road to our house. I felt horrible for yelling at him, knowing that his concern had been for me and my well-being, not his reputation. I didn't know how to make amends.

“It's good to see you, Dad,” I said softly, reaching my hand over to put it on his as he worked the gear shifter. He stole a glance my way before training his gaze firmly on the road ahead.

“You are tough, Aesa. I never knew just how tough you were until today.” His words seemed an enigmatic response to mine, but my father wasn't one to do well with emotion. It was a compliment from a man who rarely handed them out. I smiled internally, like a child who'd been given a gold star. “And it is good to see you too.”

I left my hand on his for the ride home. We sat in silence for the duration of the trip, but, for once, it was comfortable. And we never spoke about what happened that day again.

18

Hearty laughter erupted through the room as I walked into the building. It was coincidental, but the sound stopped me momentarily. I looked over to see a long string of tables pushed together and many familiar faces occupying the surrounding chairs. The men that my dad called his brothers, my “uncles”, all sat around, beers in hand, telling stories of the good old days, as they often had. It was a motley crew, some young, some old, but all were bonded in the way that only fishermen could be. Watching them made me smile a little.

Seeing Decker with them made me smile more.

“Aesa!” a voice cried out over the roaring laughter. I turned to see another one of my brotherly friends approaching me. Not far behind him was his younger sibling. I'd grown up with the two, Justin and Jeremy, their family being one of the few that actually lived in the fishing community year-round, unlike those that flew south when the season shut down. Justin came running at me with his arms open, sweeping me up and nearly crushing me to death. “I heard what happened. We were all up in dad's cabin listening to the Coast Guard's channel. You scared the shit out of me, girl. Don't ever do that again!”

“I don't plan on it,” I replied, pulling away from him enough to see his face. His expression was serious. “I think maybe now my dad will see that I'm not cut out for this life. I'm a shitty fisherman.”

That pulled a smile from deep within him.

“Fuck, yeah, ya are . . . ”

“You know you're supposed to try to stay on the boat until it's actually going down, right?” his younger brother, Jeremy, asked as he rounded Justin's shoulder, coming into my view. Justin still hadn't put me down.

“I think I get that now, Jeremy, but thanks for the recap.”

He was shorter than his older brother, only an inch or two taller than me, but he was strong as an ox. The second Justin set me on the ground, Jeremy scooped me up, crushing me to him.

“I think I was less injured after the fall,” I gasped, trying to breathe against his painfully tight grasp.

“Sorry, Ice,” he said, putting me down. “It's just, you know, it's been a long time, and then you took that swan dive into the Bering Sea.”

I hated that nickname terribly, but Jeremy could get away with it. He was two years younger than me and had a goofy charm about him that was hard to be mad at. He'd always followed Justin and me around as children, and, like his older brother, he'd always treated me as one of the family. Undoubtedly, they had been horrified while they listened to the radio reports detailing what was happening to me as it occurred.

“Does that mean you're going to buy me a beer?” I asked him, kissing him lightly on the cheek. “Wait—are you even old enough to do that?”

Justin laughed, unhooking his younger brother's arms from around me, letting me fall to my feet.

“Believe it or not, that baby face can, though he gets the shit carded out of him every time.”

“At least I don't look as old as dad already,” Jeremy quipped, looking pleased with his retort. “I'll have these boyish good looks for years.”

“Beer. Seriously,” I reminded them, wanting to escape the attention we were attracting from everyone at the bar.

“Right this way, miss,” Justin drawled, gesturing dramatically toward the table of weathered old skippers and select crewmen.

When I approached, they all got up, everyone wanting to give me a proper welcome home. I made my way around the table for what seemed like forever, ending up next to Decker when I finished. I looked up at him awkwardly then moved to the other side of the table, the brothers pulling a seat up between them for me to sit in. I couldn't tell if I was more uncomfortable about what had almost happened or the thought of everyone there potentially seeing right through him and me, knowing what was brewing between us. To our credit, we did everything we could to keep that from happening.

“So, Aesa, you're going to have to catch us up here. Your father said he didn't want to talk about what happened. We were hoping, if we got him sauced up a bit, he might, but any chance you want to discuss it after a few?”

“Why didn't you ask Robbie? He loves to talk,” I countered, winking at my Uncle Jonathon, Justin and Jeremy's dad.

“All he told us about was frantically trying to fix the engine. He wouldn't say anything about your misadventure.”

I turned my attention down the table to where Robbie sat, clearly drunk, sipping on his beer while he studiously avoided my gaze. Fishermen were notoriously hardy and difficult to rattle. It was clear that watching me plummet to the sea had done a number on him.

“Robbie,” I called to no avail. “Robbie!” With my shout, he slowly lifted his eyes to mine, the sadness in them virtually bottomless. “Robbie, I'm okay. It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault. I fell. That's all. You didn't throw me overboard. You didn't club me like a baby seal and watch me drop. A lot of shit was going on that night, and those suits are impossible to hold onto anything in. There was nothing that anyone could have done differently to stop what happened. Please, all of you, stop beating yourselves up about it. I'm alive. You're not sitting around after my funeral having this discussion.” I turned my attention back to my Uncle Jon, his eyes far more sober than they were before I'd said those words. “I'll tell you what happened, if you all want to know. I slipped. Plain and simple. Robbie and Andy were reaching for me from the rail while I climbed the rope toward them. Decker was behind me to make sure I could get up to them. When I thought I was within reach, I let go of the rope to grab their hands, and I missed. I couldn't hang on, and I fell. Decker caught me,” I continued, studiously avoiding him as he sat directly across from me. “But, between the wind, freezing rain, crashing waves, and those ridiculous suits, he couldn't stop my fall for long. I'm lucky I didn't pull him in with me.”

“You didn't have to,” Robbie muttered into his glass. “The crazy bastard jumped in right after you . . . ”

All eyes were on Decker in a second. All but mine.

“You jumped?” Jon asked him, his tone laced with pride and confusion.

“I just saw her floating,” Decker replied, his voice softer than usual. “She was face down . . . ”