12. Silence Brings Doubt
12
Silence Brings Doubt
C HAPTER TWELVE
Rosalind
“Morning, Mack,” I said, scratching behind the Beagle’s ears as he licked my face. His tail wagging in response. Then, once again, the memory of Daniel’s absence returned like a crushing weight.
“Rosalind, are you feeling OK? You don’t sound like your chipper self this morning.” remarked over breakfast, his voice filled with concern.
I forced a smile and replied. “Just tired, Grandpa.”
“It’s been somber around here with the holidays over. I reckon we could use a little fun, don’t you?” He suggested, his eyes twinkling mischievously. Mack barked enthusiastically, sensing an adventure coming our way.
“Fun? What did you have in mind, Grandpa?” I asked, intrigued despite my heavy heart.
He chuckled. “How about a fishing trip? You haven’t been out on the water in ages, and Mack here misses the sea too.”
“That sounds like a wonderful plan,” I agreed, feeling a glimmer of excitement ignite within me. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bleak after all.
“Hey there, boy,” I patted Mack’s head. “What do you think about that suggestion?” I asked the Beagle, looking into his eyes.
He gave a short bark and spun around in circles, excited beyond measure. “Me too, boy.” I added with a smile.
So Grandpa called his friend Jasper, who agreed to pilot his boat for our brief fishing trip. “We’re all set.” He told me. “Why don’t you pack a lunch and include extra for Jasper? With any luck, we’ll catch dinner while we’re out.”
An hour later, we walked down to the docks, picnic lunch in a cooler, and boarded Jasper’s boat. All the fishing gear we’d need was already on board.
“Hi Jasper!” I greeted him as soon as I stepped on board. “It seems like forever since we’ve gone fishing.”
“It’s good to have you back again, Roz. And you too, Joseph. I bet you’ve been missing the open waters, and My Deep Sea Dream.” Jasper added as he shook hands with Grandpa and helped him aboard.
“Well, not as much as you’d think, Jasper, but I am glad to be on the water today. It’s been too long.” Grandpa ran his hand along the railing of what had once been his fishing boat. When he’d retired, Jasper had bought it. But Grandpa had given him such an amazing deal that Jasper never charged us to use it.
And now that Grandpa’s sight was going, he even piloted for us. Of course, we only came out if both the boat and Jasper were available.
While Grandpa reacquainted himself with the boat, walking slowly along the railing, Mack walked ahead, giving a little yip when he found an obstacle. The two of them had long since worked out their own form of communication, and with Mack, Grandpa could go just about anywhere.
I took the cooler into the pilothouse and left it next to a bench. Then I sat in the seat next to the helm as Jasper sat down at the wheel.
We watched Mack, leading Grandpa on their walk to the bow.
“So, Jasper, how’s business?” I asked as I watched him steer the boat away from the island.
“Slow, now that the tourists have gone. But the fishing has been surprisingly good, so I can’t complain.”
“And how’s Martha and the boys?”
“Oh, you know Martha. She’s as busy as a bee in the spring with our four boys.” He chuckled, and I chuckled too, as I imagined his petite wife wrangling the sometimes rowdy brood.
“I’ll bet.”
We continued chatting for about an hour until Jasper slowed the boat and called out, “Joseph, this should be a good spot.” He turned off the motor and let the boat drift. Moving to the bow to set up our fishing rods.
As we each selected our spots and took turns casting out our lines, the ocean seemed to calm below us. The occasional lap of a wave against the hull, so soft as to feel like sitting in a rocking chair.
A peace fell over the boat as we all settled down to wait. Each lost in their own thoughts for a time.
Eventually, the silence stretched out so long I felt myself nodding off. Setting my rod in a holder attached to the deck, I returned to the pilothouse to bring out the cooler and hand out drinks and sandwiches.
“We’ve got ham and cheese or peanut butter and jelly. What would you like, Jasper?” I asked as I brought the cooler to him and let him pick his choice.
“Grandpa? Here’s yours.” I said as I moved to his seat. He rarely ate peanut butter or jelly at home, but he’d shared with me a long time ago, how much better they tasted on the water. Neither of us knew why, but I felt the same way about the ham and cheese.
“Thanks, Rosie.” He smiled as I set a bottle of cold water beside both of their chairs.
Then I returned to my seat and watched for any dip on the tip of my rod that might signify a fish taking my bait.
Now that the silence had been broken, Jasper and Grandpa chatted as they ate their sandwiches and watched their rods. In Grandpa’s case, it was mostly the feel of the movement on the rod he waited for.
Sometimes I’d add a comment or two, but I mostly enjoyed listening to the two friends talk about anything under the sun that caught their fancy. From politics to religion, no subject was out of bounds.
Grandpa had said I needed this, and he was right. I hadn’t felt this completely relaxed in a long while. But I thought he needed this time on the water, too.
After all these years of working on his boat, the sea was still in his blood and always would be.
I tore off pieces of my sandwich and pitched them to where Mack kept station by Grandpa. He’d run over and snatch them wherever they landed, then return to his station. Tail wagging the whole time.
As I watched the Beagle, I thought about how different all our animals had been, and how much their personalities had varied, much like the people I knew.
“How are you doing, Rosie? You’ve gotten quiet again.” Grandpa asked.
I smiled. “I’m good, Grandpa. You were right. This was exactly what we needed.” He nodded his head and was about to reply when the rod resting in his hand dipped.
He was already reeling in the line when Jasper’s rod dipped, and he had a fish on the line.
Unfortunately, I was not as lucky. But both Jasper and Grandpa pulled in another fish over the next half hour.
When we returned to the island later, Jasper insisted we take all four fish, telling us, “Martha’s got more fish in our freezer than we need. If I bring home anymore, she’ll filet me .”
Grandpa and I both laughed, remembering the times Grandma had said the same thing. “Oh, the woes of a fisherman.” I said, adding, “tell Martha not to cook dinner tomorrow. I’ll bring over a non-fish dish. It’s been too long since I’ve visited her and the boys.”
“I’ll tell her, Roz. She won’t turn down an offer for someone else to cook, especially if it’s not fish. But I know she’d appreciate the visit even more.” Jasper smiled as we placed the fish in our cooler and said our goodbyes.
“See you tomorrow!” I called back with a wave as we walked home.
The winter breeze carried the usual salty tang as we strolled along, taking our time. My thoughts drifted like the seagulls above, as if floating on a cloud.
The island felt lighter somehow after our fishing trip. Peace settled around me as I watched Mack race ahead, then back to us.
“Grandpa? Can I ask you something?” I held his arm and glanced at his weathered face as we walked along, side-by-side.
“Sure Rosie. Anything.” He replied with a smile.
“Are you happy with your life on our island? Or do you have regrets?”
“That’s an interesting question. What makes you ask?” He prompted me.
“I love my life here and with you, but sometimes I wonder if I’ll regret not going to college or traveling while I’m young.”
“I can’t answer that question for you, but I can tell you, I have no regrets. Sure, there are other things I could’ve done with my life if I’d made different choices. But I loved being a fisherman. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner than your grandmother, and we both loved watching you grow into the sweet, caring person you’ve become.”
After a pause, he continued on. “Do I wish that your mother had lived to see you grow up, and that your father had stayed? Yes. Do I wish I’d had more time with my beloved Maria? Yes, of course. But we’re here today, you and I, together. And I’ve lived a life with more genuine joy than most people will ever know. We have a strong, caring, and supportive community that relies on us as much as we rely on them.”
Again, he paused, searching for the right words. “We’re surrounded by beauty every day. Even if I don’t see it all now, I have memories enough to know it’s still there. And I can still hear the waves crash on the shore and smell the ocean breezes. With all the pain and strife in other parts of this world? No, I have no regrets about choosing a simple life with kind people and this beauty around me. No regrets at all.”
We arrived at our house, and I helped him up the steps.
All throughout preparing our catch for dinner, I thought about Grandpa’s words as he took a nap.
My mind wandered back to the envy I’d felt watching some of my schoolmates flaunt their degrees and big city apartments after graduation. But now, those memories seemed distant and hollow compared to the contentment I’d found here.
My old friends had achieved many things, but their restless eyes when I’d gone to visit spoke of a deep emptiness. I realized none appeared satisfied with what they’d accomplished. They were always searching for that next big break. The one thing missing, that would fill the hole in their lives.
It was such a direct contrast to the fulfillment I felt in my simple life.
But now it became perfectly clear that I had a hole in my life. Not by a lack of accomplishment or adventure, but because Daniel was absent.
Daniel’s smile, which had made my heart race, and the warmth of his touch, left an empty space in my life that no amount of fishing trips or scenic beauty could fill. The man whose kiss had left me breathless and turned my knees to jelly. Who’s presence had made the world seem safer and brighter.
I was happy with the choices I’d made, and with my simple life on our unique island.
But the sadness I’d felt lately hadn’t come from what I had here. It had come from who, not what, was missing. Daniel. His promise to return had left me in a state of hopeful anticipation. Yet the silence in his absence was deafening.
If only I knew where he was, and why he hadn’t called.
Was he coming back as he promised he would?
I needed to believe in his promise and the future he had hinted at, despite this gaping ache of uncertainty.
I’d been so terribly wrong before with Rich.
But if I believed in a future for us. Then I had to keep faith in the man.
I had to keep faith in Daniel.