Chapter Eight
Michael wished he had not agreed to Thanksgiving. It was noisy. His family had invaded the beach house with good intentions and mountains of food, yet it felt hollow without Ann there. He knew they were trying to cheer him up. He desperately just wanted them to leave him alone.
He sighed. He was going to do his best today.
He was tired of the moping he had been doing for the past few weeks.
Michael might not smile and be happy, but he would participate.
They would appreciate that. He grabbed utensils to help set the table, but Piaget and Elle shooed him out of the kitchen.
They told him to join the guys watching television.
Michael didn’t want to watch the game. He never watched football.
He didn’t know the rules, the teams, who was the favorite.
Michael sighed again. He noticed that FedEx had abandoned her post at the kitchen, begging for scraps from the dinner preparation.
Michael wandered over to the sliding door and saw FedEx barking and jumping in the sand.
Silly dog. It was cold outside. The wind was biting at this time of year and FedEx had a short coat.
Michael leaned to the left to get a better look at what the dog was barking at and took a choking breath as he saw Ethan walking on the mole.
He felt like a brick had slammed into his chest.
The mole was a line of rocks that helped to protect the marina from the wicked winter waves.
Spray was bouncing up as the waves crashed into the rocks, making the mole slippery and dangerous.
During calm weather people fished off it.
In weather such as this, everyone avoided it because a person could be swept away into the cold waters.
It had happened in the past. People died that way.
Michael wrenched open the sliding door, ran across the deck and vaulted over the railing.
He had a moment of panic over the height while he was in midair, but then he hit the sand, rolling.
His ankle hurt yet he scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as he could through the sand, ignoring the pain, breath coming in gasps from the cold air.
He was wearing only long shorts and a tee, his feet completely bare.
It had been hot in the house with the kitchen cooking enough food to feed a small army.
Outside he swore he could see his breath as he raced across the sand toward the mole, praying Ethan would not fall, desperately hoping he reached the toddler in time.
FedEx jumped beside him, running along, barking excitedly.
Michael tried not to trip over the dog as he made the turn and without breaking stride started up the straight rocky shelf toward the toddler who was being sprayed by the water.
For a moment, Michael panicked when he lost sight of the boy as a wave crashed over the mole, but Ethan reappeared on the other side of the water as it disbursed over the rocks, unharmed and still toddling over the uneven surface.
Making the last of the distance, gasping, lungs burning, Michael fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around the little boy.
Ethan was soaked and chatted happily at Michael’s ear in toddler nonsense.
A wave came up and Michael had to steady himself under the force of it as the water washed over both of them.
If he had not gotten to Ethan, it was certain the boy would have been swept into the waters.
He hugged his nephew, relieved, thanking God that he was safe.
A shout sounded behind him and Michael turned to see Noah and Max coming up the mole.
He walked back to meet them part way, holding Ethan.
The boy seemed to think it was one big adventure even though it was obvious that he was cold.
Noah hurried up and took his son in his arms, grateful. He hugged him hard.
“We should get back to the beach. It is not safe here,” Max said, the wind was whipping at them all and the cold spray of the water soaking their clothes.
Michael looked around. He didn’t see FedEx. The dog had been running, jumping and barking right beside him the whole time but now she was nowhere to be seen. It was not right. She barely ever left his side.
“Michael?”
He shook his head at Max is query, not even looking at him. The dog was not on the beach or the mole. Which could only mean that she had been swept off when that wave had crashed over them. Panic curled in Michael’s stomach. This was his dog. He walked further up the mole scanning the water.
“Michael, what are you looking for?” Noah shouted, nearly at the beach, holding on to Ethan.
“I think he is looking for the dog,” Max shouted back. He scanned the area, looking for Michael’s dog.
“It is just a dog. It will come back,” Noah yelled.
It was not just a dog. It was FedEx. The first pet he ever had.
She was the only one who listened to him even when what he said didn’t make any sense.
Who understood when no one else did. She had been his lifeline, his reason for getting up in the morning after he didn’t win Ann back.
Michael swallowed thickly, worried about his dog.
Suddenly Michael saw FedEx struggling in the water.
She was swimming, but Michael knew how cold and how big those waves were.
He sprinted across the mole and dived out as far as he could.
He was lucky only to hit his knee off a rock during the dive.
With the unpredictable waves, he could have been smashed back into the line of rocks that made up the mole.
He broke water, gasping. It was stupid cold.
Keeping up even strokes, Michael made it to the dog and grabbed her by the collar.
For a moment the swell brought him up and he could see both the mole and the beach.
He debated his options. The mole was closer, but the water could kill them if it was too violent against the rocks.
With today is wind and waves, it was likely they would be injured or worse.
The beach was further but the chance of getting there in one piece was far better.
Tugging on FedEx, Michael headed for the sand and prayed that no rip currents brought them out to sea.
He didn’t want Max or Noah trying their luck in that rowboat they used to play in when they were kids.
Or worse, try to sail his boat in an attempt to rescue him and the dog.
They were inexperienced amateurs at best when sailing and would likely get hurt trying.
It had been years since he had taken either of them out on the sailboat and he knew neither of them had sailed since.
Michael doubled his efforts to try to get to shore, pulling FedEx with him.
Both of them were shivering uncontrollably.
It was freezing. He would be surprised if there was not a light dusting of snow tonight.
He tried to think toasty thoughts of turkey and the fireplace.
Michael might even watch the dumb football game.
Anything except this penetrating cold. His feet and hands were numb.
His teeth were chattering. Still, he swam.
It was easier with a sort of side stroke, to hold onto FedEx and make some progress.
An arm came around him from behind and Michael jerked in surprise. “Hey, big brother. Thought you could use a little help. Lean back and kick your legs, just like you taught me.”
It was Max. He was using the same technique Michael had taught him years ago when he was a kid to rescue a distressed or drowning swimmer smaller than himself.
Well, Michael reflected ruefully, Max probably had thirty pounds more muscle than him and was an inch taller.
He kicked his feet and let Max steer them toward the shore.
It took both of Michael is hands to keep FedEx is head above the water.
The dog was paddling half-heartedly, eyes nearly closed.
Finally, they reached the point where they could put their feet down and walk through the waves, chest deep.
Noah had waded out and grabbed the other side of Michael, helping to support his shivering form up to the beach.
Elle and Piaget stood in the sand, each toting a twin.
Michael looked at the dog in his arms. FedEx was shivering, but was she breathing?
“I vote we all go inside and try to warm up,” Max puffed. “Ladies, why don’t you find us some dry clothes and get towels ready?”
Piaget nodded and quickly headed for the beach house. Elle remained, tears streaking down her face as she held Ethan who had been wrapped in an adult hoodie. “Thank you, Michael. Thank you.”
Michael shook his head. He hefted FedEx. His lungs felt like they were on fire, but he managed a word, “Barking.”
“What?” she asked, not comprehending.
He repeated hefting the dog and said again, “Barking. Ethan.”
“The dog was barking at Ethan?” Max supplied.
Michael nodded tiredly. “Barking.”
“If you had not noticed the dog, would you have seen Ethan?” Noah asked, he looked at the shaking dog in Michael is arms with a new respect.
Michael shook his head no. His heart constricted at the thought.
“I am sorry Michael. I take back what I said about the dog,” Noah swallowed thickly. “Here, I will carry her in, and Max can pull you along. This way we will all get inside quicker.”
Michael hesitated a moment but let Noah take FedEx.
The dog was getting so big and after such a run and swim, he was ready to drop to the ground himself.
He was not sure he had the strength to carry her much longer.
Max pulled one of Michael is arms over his shoulders and wrapped his other arm around his waist. “Come on, Michael. One foot in front of the other. We got this.”