Chapter 42
forty-two
Percy
I choose the same seat alone near the front of the ferry’s top deck where I can stare out over the sparkling waters of Lake Huron.
Chris and Quinn had invited me to sit with them, but this had felt more fitting.
Both for the symmetry of it—returning to where everything began—and to get some much-needed distance so I could think.
So much has happened since that first tearful goodbye with my dad Friday night.
Only one day might’ve passed for Quinn and everyone else, but for Chris and me, it feels like a whole lifetime has gone by.
We’ve somehow transitioned from enemies and jilted ex-lovers, to reluctant allies, to friends with benefits, to…
well, honestly, I don’t know exactly what we are now.
That’s a huge part of why I’m sitting up here by myself rather than with him and Quinn a few rows back.
Are we still friends now that the loop has ended?
Maybe. I’d like to think we’ve grown close enough for that much, at least, to hold true.
But Chris made it plain he’s interested in more.
And from the way my stomach ties itself in knots every time I catch a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye, it’s hard to deny I am as well.
Chris’ low chuckle echoes from somewhere behind me, the sound alone enough to warm me from the chill air. Yeah, I’m not sure friends sits right, either. But if not that, then…
I think of Owen, so afraid to be himself.
So certain no one would accept him for who he is.
I’d said a tearful goodbye to both him and Carol before we’d left Mackinac Island, promising to keep in better touch.
And while Chris and I had left it up to Owen to decide when and how much he wanted to open up to his mom, we’d returned the pistol and told her enough to ensure he got the help he needed.
From what we could gather of their heart-to-heart last night, he’s already off to a good start.
Owen had seen only the worst in himself.
What had brought him to that point? It must have been more than him thinking I’d ghosted him.
Had bullies at his school hurt him that badly?
Or perhaps that’s thinking too simplistically.
Maybe it hadn’t been any one thing in particular but a thousand tiny things, each little pressure or disappointment compounding until it collectively became too much.
I can certainly empathize.
My thoughts turn to my own dad and his constant encouragement.
My mom and her sweet smile—her enthusiasm for life.
That had been one of the worst parts about watching her waste away in that hospital bed near the end.
Her failing body had no longer been able to live up to that vital spark inside her.
This morning before we left, I’d told Chris I think she’d be proud of me.
At the time, I’d meant it, but I’m no longer so sure.
Not when I’m too afraid to seize the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
I’ve been so wrapped up in my own insecurities that I’ve adhered to the letter of the promise I made my mom while ignoring its essence.
It hadn’t been the details that mattered to her—the wife and the kids and the white picket fence.
It had been what they signified. She wouldn’t want me hiding from the world, especially when I’m using devotion to her memory as an excuse.
All she’d wanted was for me to be happy.
And that means I need to be brave enough to seek happiness out instead of sitting back and waiting for the universe to hand it to me on a silver platter.
If you still feel like this when we escape the time loop—if you can prove to me that I matter when you know it counts—then maybe. But not until then.
A cold wind billows over the boat, ruffling my hair, and suddenly, I know what I have to do. I jerk to my feet, scooting down the aisle to slide onto the bench beside Chris.
He gives me a questioning look. “What’s up, Perce?”
On his other side, Quinn meets my eyes and smiles. I swallow, the easy welcome in her expression somehow giving me the last drop of courage I need.
Chris is frowning at me now, his eyes narrowing.
He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, I lean in and kiss him.
It’s far from our most passionate kiss—how can it be when he’s still sitting there, frozen in shock?
But I make sure to hold it long enough for him to realize I’m serious and start to melt into it before I pull back, panting.
“About damn time!” Quinn says into the awkward silence that follows. “Maybe now you two will stop sneaking those sad little glances at each other.”
Chris blinks out of his stupor to scowl at her. “I was not sneaking sad little glances!”
“I don’t know what else you’d call them. There was some next-level pining going on.”
“I don’t pine.”
She pats him on the shoulder. “Sure, you don’t.” She hops to her feet, her rainbow dreadlocks swishing. “Anyway, I think I’d better give you two lovebirds some time to talk. Later.”
That leaves only Chris and me, and while I’d resolved to kiss him, I hadn’t gotten much past that.
I play with my glasses. “I, uh, know it’s not much, so far as grand gestures go.
I mean, there’s hardly anyone up here on this level except Quinn, and she doesn’t really count.
But just so you know, I’ll gladly kiss you anywhere else you want if you need more proof. ”
He opens and closes his mouth several times as if struggling to find the words he wants. “But…I thought…last night…”
I reach out and tentatively take his hand. My heart is pounding out of my chest, but I swallow down my nerves and free the words fighting to escape. “I love you, Chris. I never stopped loving you. And I’m finally ready to admit what I want. For real.”
Chris yanks his hand back, and my stomach sinks. “What about your dad?” he demands, his voice almost frantic. “Or your mom? What about not wanting to come out? We’re not stuck in a time loop anymore, Perce. This is real life—no more redos. No more second chances.”
I smile hesitantly at him. “Well, I was sort of hoping for one last second chance. The rest, we can figure out as we go…so long as we do it together.”
He doesn’t answer right away, his entire body tensing, and my smile slips. Am I too late? Just because I’ve gotten my head out of my ass and chosen Chris doesn’t mean he’s still open to being with me. Had I let him down one too many times?
“If, that is, you’re still interested,” I add hastily. “I mean, I know I should’ve done this a lot sooner, and I’m sorry it took me so long to accept what I want. I promise I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you. You deserve it. I want to be with you, more than anything, and—”
Chris surges forward, shutting me up with a kiss. I close my eyes, relishing the taste of him and the electric tingle the press of his lips sends sizzling across my skin. Eventually, he pulls back, grinning fondly at me. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
“Does that mean I’m not too late? You want to try again, too?”
He cups my face, bumping the cold tip of his nose against mine. “Of course, I do. Because nothing is more real to me than this.”
He leans into me, and I wrap an arm around his shoulder, holding him close to my side.
We’re still snuggling like that when Quinn rejoins us and starts chattering away like nothing’s amiss.
Like we’ve known each other a lot longer than the handful of interactions she remembers from yesterday.
Perhaps some inner part of her recalls all the moments we’ve shared across different iterations of that infinite Saturday.
Or perhaps it’s just Quinn being Quinn.
Occasionally, I catch her eyeing Chris and me with a small grin, but she doesn’t say a word.
I’m grateful. As resolved as I am to be with Chris, this whole public display of affection thing is still pretty new and leaves me feeling uneasy.
If things go awry now, there’s no way to hit reset.
Trailing my fingers down Chris’ back, however, while his soft bangs brush against my cheek, I can’t imagine why I’d want to.
Where the ferry ride out on Friday had seemed to drag, this one passes in a blur. Before I know it, Chris and I are untangling ourselves to grab our bags and disembark. I spy my dad right away, his sleek sports car parked in the drop-off lot. He honks, leaning out the window to wave.
“Well, I guess this is where we part ways,” Quinn says. She leans in and hugs me, her grip surprisingly strong. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t,” I promise, waving at her as she starts down the path along the shore leading to the overnight parking lot.
Chris hesitates, his eyes flicking from me to my dad. He gives me an uncertain smile. “Later, Perce. Call you tomorrow?”
This is it—moment of truth. I could smile, nod, and let Chris walk away. Or…
Fighting down the bundle of nerves buzzing in my chest like angry hornets, I grab Chris’ hand and tug him toward the car.
“What are you doing?” He tries to yank his hand free, but I tighten my grip. “Quinn’s waiting for me. I’ve gotta go.”
“This won’t take long,” I assure him. “I just want to introduce my dad to my boyfriend.”
Chris inhales sharply, stumbling on the gravel. “Are you sure about this, Perce? This is all still new to you. You don’t have to rush anything. We can take our time, work up to—”
I shake my head. “No. No more excuses. This is what I want.” I glance at him and grin. “You are what I want. And it’s way past time I acknowledge that.”
Though he tries to put on a brave face, I feel his hand trembling in mine. I take a steadying breath. I can do this.
As we draw close to the car, my dad steps out of the driver’s seat. “Hey, son,” he says. He turns toward Chris. “And who’s your…” He falters, his eyes locking on our linked hands.
I resist the urge to shrink away, tightening my grip and standing tall. “Hi, Dad. You remember Chris, right? From high school?”
Chris holds out his left hand since I’ve still got a death grip on his right. “Hi, Mr. Wentworth. It’s good to see you again.”
I hold my breath, watching my dad carefully. His initial shock gradually morphs into a warm smile. Ignoring Chris’ outstretched hand, he steps in and wraps him in a hug.
“Of course! Chris Rawley, right, from the track team? You boys were inseparable in high school.” He frowns as he pulls back. “I always wondered what happened between you two.”
“We sort of had a falling out freshman year,” I admit.
“My fault,” Chris interjects quickly.
I shake my head. “Definitely both of ours.” I smile at Chris. “But I think we’re finally working things out.”
Chris holds my gaze, returning a lopsided grin.
My dad clears his throat, and I blush, turning from Chris to find my dad beaming at us.
“I can see that.” Sorrow flits across his face.
“I’m glad this trip did you some good after all,” he adds, slightly choked up.
“I started to second guess myself when you didn’t respond to any of my texts—thought maybe going back there alone had been too much for you.
But this is the happiest I’ve seen you since…
well, since your mother passed. She’d be so glad to see you smiling again. ”
My own throat tightens. “I’ll always miss her. But it helped, confronting the memories we’d shared. I don’t want to get so caught up mourning her death that I forget to celebrate her life.”
He chuckles wetly. “I’m certain she’d like that, too. There’s nothing more important in this world than joy. Never take it for granted because before you know it, it might slip away.”
His voice cracks, and I pat him awkwardly on the back.
Looking over at Chris, I’m surprised to see my own tears reflected on his face.
They’re tears for me, I realize. For the loss my dad and I have had to endure.
But beneath the tears, shining out fiercely like the sun behind the clouds, there’s also an almost overwhelming abundance of love.
“I think I’m starting to get that, Dad,” I say quietly, surrounded by the two most important people in my world. “Sometimes, you just need the universe to give you a good kick in the pants.”