chapter twenty-one
RILES
Forcing my eyelids apart, I immediately shut them again when the morning sunlight beams into my eyeballs, my head vibrating like a taiko drum. A stale, earthy, foul funk coats my tongue, so I gag then lick my lips, my throat dry and revolting. What the hell happened last night?
Groaning, I try to roll over but hit a log. A hot, solid, snoring, man-log.
My eyes spring open, and I slowly turn my head before going dead-still while Riley snorts in a breath and then exhales, his arm coming to rest across my chest.
Delicately pinching his wrist, I lift his arm and lay it beside him, then raise my comforter and peek beneath it.
“Thank you, baby Jesus!” I whisper, because my underwear is still on.
“Don’t thank him, sweetheart. Thank me.”
I shriek and grasp at my chest.
“What time is it?” he asks, scrubbing his hands over his face.
“Uh… time you tell me what the hell happened last night, why you’re on my bed, why I’m in my underwear, and why my mouth tastes like ass?”
He rolls onto his side, his lazy eyes finding mine. “You got wasted like you wanted to.”
“Yes, I remember the ‘getting wasted’ part. What I don’t remember is what happened after.”
He collects my hair with his fingers and tenderly tucks it behind my ear, the pad of his thumb caressing my temple. “How’s your head?”
I all but sigh, his sweetness infectious. “It has more pounds than a pound cake.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Affirmative.”
Swinging his legs over the bed, he sits up and stretches.
“You’re still in the clothes you wore last night,” I say, confused.
“I am.”
“So we didn’t…?”
He whirls back around, his brow pinched. “No! We didn’t. Who do you take me for?”
“Right. Yes. Sorry. I didn’t mean….”
Chuckling, he stands and stretches again, then grabs a bottle of water and fishes some Tylenol out of his bedside table before handing them to me. “Here. You’re gonna need these.”
“Thank you.” I take the pills and swallow them, the fresh cool water like liquid heaven. “I forgot about the aftermath of drinking. How on earth did I forget about the aftermath?”
His mouth quirks as he shrugs.
“It’s not funny,” I grouch.
“I never said it was.”
“You don’t have to. Your face says it for you.”
“That’s because you hit it hard last night. And it was… amusing.”
“Amusing?” I frown, trying to recall said amusement. “I can’t remember anything after singing… with Ben. Wait! I sang with Ben?”
“You sure did. Twice.”
“Twice?”
“And four solos.”
“What?” Flopping back on my bed, I groan, “Kill me now.”
“My personal favorite was ‘My Humps’ by Black Eyed Peas.”
“Nooo.” I wrench my head back up, regretting it the moment I do, the room spinning. “Why’d you let me sing?”
“Because you wanted to.”
“No, Riley. No, I didn’t.” I close my eyes momentarily, remorse twisting my already twisting stomach. How I thought drowning my grief with liquor was a splendid idea is beyond me. Grief doesn’t drown; it floats. Never swimming. Never sinking.
Riley disappears behind the room partition to where the TV and desk are, returning with his hands behind his back before presenting me with a gold ship trophy. “Your ‘singing’ earned you this.”
“No way!” I scramble out of bed and snatch it from him. “I won karaoke?”
“You did.”
“Huh.” Proudly holding it up, I marvel at my prize until I become acutely aware I’m standing before him in nothing but my underwear, his eyes leisurely roaming my body.
“Turn around!” I shriek, covering my lady bits.
“I’ve seen you in a bikini, Riles.”
“I know, but underwear is different.”
“I’ve seen you in your underwear too.”
“You have?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Last night, when I put you to bed.”
My eyes bulge. “You undressed me?”
“I had to.”
“Why?”
“Because you were in no state to do it yourself.”
“Right. I suppose I wasn’t.” I scratch my head. “But you were drunk too.”
“Nope.”
“Yes, you were. I remember you drinking with me.”
“I had four beers, then stopped.”
“Why?”
He lifts one solitary eyebrow, and I know what it means. He stopped so he could look after me, to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid… other than embarrass myself with a microphone, apparently.
I groan again. “Ugh! Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Bending down, I snatch up my dress from the floor and cover my body with it. “So, are you going to tell me what hap—” The stench of vomit hits my nose, and I blink profusely, hoping my fluttering eyelashes fan it away. “What’s that smell?”
He nods at my dress.
I tentatively lift it higher and take a whiff. “Is that… puke?”
“It is.”
“Oh, Jesus!” Tossing it aside, my eyes widen before finding his again. “Ohhh! Shit! I puked?”
“You did.”
“Were you with me when—”
“I was.”
“Did I puke on y—”
His eye twitches.
Feeling outright horrendous, I cover my mouth with my hands. “I’m so sorry, Riley.”
He lays his palms on my shoulders, presses his lips to my forehead, turns me toward the bathroom, and gives me a gentle shove. “Go take a shower. You stink.”
Absolutely mortified, I trudge my walk of shame.
This day is going to be… hell.
Cradling Mom to my chest, the warm ocean breeze whispers across my face, the water calm, tranquil, and somewhat calling, as if it knows it will welcome an angel today.
We journey through the Irish Sea tonight and dock in Dublin tomorrow morning, so it’s now or never to grant Mom her final wish, a wish I must grant because she deserves nothing less.
“They’re ready when you are, Riles,” Riley says as he sits beside me on a park-style bench out on deck.
I wipe a tear from my eye and nod. “I just need a couple more minutes.”
“Take as much time as you want.” He tenderly squeezes my knee and goes to stand.
I clasp his hand. “Please, stay.”
Lowering to sit again, he slides his arm behind my shoulders and hugs me to him, his warmth and presence a comfort I in no way fathomed I would desperately need.
Never in my wildest dreams had I expected to do what I’m about to do with a man I’ve known for less than two weeks.
I do everything on my own; I pretty much always have.
But Riley doesn’t feel like a sympathetic stranger, obliged or coerced to console a damsel in distress for her own selfish needs.
And if he did, I certainly wouldn’t have asked him to join me today.
I’m still trying to figure out how and why, but he feels like a part of me that’s been hiding deep within, waiting to surface and show me I’m not alone in the world.
“Thank you,” I murmur, my fingers gripping the urn.
“How’s your head?”
“Less pound cake.”
“Good.” He nods toward the horizon. “So your mom loved the ocean?”
“She did, but I didn’t realize how much until she explained her wishes.
It was a shock. It still is. I mean, we took vacations to Florida, and many day trips to Long Island when I was younger, but she never truly expressed her fondness for the sea.
” I pick at the seam of my dress. “And now I fear I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did.
Never paid the attention I should have.”
“I don’t think that’s the case, Riles,” he says, rubbing my shoulder, eyes trained dead ahead.
“We all hold a truth for ourselves and only ourselves, but that doesn’t mean your mom didn’t love or trust you enough to share that truth with you, or that you were too preoccupied to see it.
Perhaps her love of the ocean was simply her truth.
That one precious thing she kept for herself. ”
Shifting in my seat, I turn to him and simply stare, his explanation surprisingly sobering. “I… I suppose it was.”
“Seems that way,” he says, dragging his focus from the ocean to me.
Tears pool in my eyes as I recall one summer at Corey Beach.
“Look, Mom!” I squealed.
“What did you find, Smiley Riley?”
“A hermit crab.” I scrambled up the sandbank, almost falling onto my nine-year-old face.
“Show me!” Mom put down her book and gave me her full attention.
Carefully pinching the shell, I proudly presented it to her. “Can I keep it?”
She pouted. “No, darling. It doesn’t belong with us. It belongs here.”
“But I want a pet crab.”
“Do you think the crab wants to leave the beach and live in the city?”
I shook my head.
“Of course it doesn’t. It wants to be in the sand and water with the other crabs. That’s its home. That’s where it’s happiest.”
“But I love it.”
“Then you have to put it back. To love is to give, and to give is to love. Do you understand, my precious girl?”
I nodded sullenly.
“Go on then… show the crab how much you love it.”
Trudging back to the water’s edge, I set the crab down, waving as it buried itself under the sand. “Goodbye. I love you.”
A sob rips from my chest, tearing it open as only deep love can. “I’m ready.”
Riley kisses my head and stands, offering me his hand. I take it and rise, legs trembling as we walk to where the captain waits patiently, a large bouquet of flowers on a table covered in a white cloth, a single note reading A loving mother and best friend.
Confused, I read the note again before snapping my head to Riley. “Did you do that?”
He nods once, then links his hands behind his back.
Pressing Mom to my chest, I step up to him, hug him tight, and whisper, “Thank you. That’s so unbelievably thoughtful of you.”
“It’s my honor, Riles.”
Tears flood my eyes and stream down my face, so I wipe my cheeks and step back, not wanting to stain his shirt with my running mascara.
“Ms. Wilson,” Captain Katarina says, “if you’re ready, I’ll say a few words and then give you some privacy to commence with interment.”
I nod.