I Want to Show You More (9780802193742) by Jamie Quatro Page B

him.”
    â€œIt’s great,” Neil said. “He’ll love it.” The price was still on the board—$349.99.
    Now they were circling Miller’s Bay in the 27-foot Cobalt. worth the wake , the back of the boat said. James drove, pulling Grady along at 20 mph. In the bow, Ruth held Effie in her lap; Ben and Myra sat in the stern. Ben was clutching the orange flag he was supposed to wave if Grady fell.
    Neil stood aft, watching Grady. He’d pulled himself up right away, holding the towrope in one hand so he could fasten the Velcro strap across his thighs. He was already learning to maneuver, cutting across the wake. He dragged one hand in the water beside him, creating a line of spray.
    â€œCool!” Ben yelled. He was smiling. They were all smiling—his children, his in-laws.
    Grady gave a thumbs up. “He says faster!” Myra yelled, and James pushed the throttle forward.
    In the support group, the counselor had said: When you lose a loved one, you feel as if you’re inside a confined space. Everyone else will seem to be careening along outside of this space. In time, you will become aware of an opening you are going to have to step through. It might be the touch of a new lover, a new job, a move—but you’ll know. You will step through.
    Neil watched Grady bounce in the wake. He felt the spray coming up from the starboard side of the boat. The scream of wind in his ears. There were things none of them knew, not even the counselor. Those last days it was his job to squirt dropper after dropper of morphine down her throat. The hospice nurses would turn away when he dosed up the medication, or leave the room—avoiding the conversation he was not permitted to begin. Jocelyn’s eyes pleading with him to do what he could not. It was the last way he failed her. He filled droppers, then held her hand while she fed them to herself. He stood there while she sucked and sucked, startled by the unity of her first and last acts on earth. He held her hand until the fingertips cooled against his palm.
    When the sun was low, James pulled into little Miller’s Bay and anchored the boat three hundred feet out from the nature preserve. A sandbar extended into the bay and separated the lake from the preserve’s wetlands. The children jumped in and walked up to the sandbar, Effie squealing about the seaweed, Ben and Grady draping green swags around their necks. Myra picked her way among the rock piles. Grady took giant steps along the section of sandbar that was invisible beneath an inch of water. “Look,” he called to them. “I’m Jesus!”
    â€œThe kids are so good for us,” Ruth said to Neil. “Reasons to go on living.” She was kneeling on the cushioned bench in the bow, taking pictures. She was gorgeous, Neil thought. At sixty-four, her brown hair was graying only at the temples. She’d had a mini face-lift to get rid of her jowls, but she hadn’t touched her eyes. “Why don’t you get in with them,” she said.
    The darkening lake, the flock of seagulls at the end of the sandbar. The knock of swells against the hull. The children running, kicking up water, scattering gulls. They were lifting seaweed-covered rocks and spiraling them into the lake. At the far end, near the shore, Neil could see a white-haired couple paddling along in kayaks. A collie, wearing its own orange life jacket, sat up in one of the prows.
    â€œI think I’ll get something to drink,” he said. He went down the steps into the small cabin. A pile of folded beach towels was on the table next to three bottles of sunscreen. He checked the galley—the wet bar was stocked. The refrigerator held Coke, Diet Pepsi, Sprite, Perrier, a six-pack of Coronas. There were juice boxes for the kids, small Lunchables snacks with ham, cheese, and crackers, a tray of sliced fruit. A plate of carrots and ranch dip.
    It was dark when they got back to the