about something happier.
Beaches on Nantucket Close after at Least a Dozen Shark Sightings. It was the headline of an article she’d stumbled across online only two weeks prior. Were the sharks gone? Were they circling her at that exact moment?
And then, all of a sudden, the image of a smiling Daniel Boggs flittered through her mind.
Is this how you felt, Mr. Boggs?
That image had no business haunting her, not now when she’d been doing so well. But a wave tossed her forward, and she barely managed to hold on to the board, so she closed her eyes and prayed.
Because right about now, she needed a miracle.
Mr. Boggs had probably prayed for the same thing and look how that had turned out.
Maybe this was what she deserved. Maybe this was payback for what she’d done. Maybe this was God’s way of reminding her that actions had consequences.
Actions like not wearing a life vest. Or breaking someone’s heart.
She’d been working how many years to try to make amends for her mistakes? Would it ever be enough? Would forgiveness ever come?
It occurred to her that on normal days she was excellent at pushing these thoughts away. In fact, most days she didn’t even have to work at it.
Apparently being faced with the end of one’s life resulted in this. A deep dive into all the things she’d been successfully avoiding. As if there weren’t more important things to be thinking about. Like staying alive.
If only she had a single clue how to do that.
“God, I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve to be rescued, and I’m not in the habit of asking for help, which I’m sure you know. But it would be super awesome if you could maybe shift the wind and give me a push toward the shore.”
The waves just kept pulling her deeper and farther away.
She supposed miracles were in high demand these days. And maybe it simply wasn’t her turn. She clung to the board as fear welled up inside her. Panic buzzed somewhere down deep, and she tried to keep it from overtaking her.
She’d make a list like she always did to help sort out her anxiety.
A wave swelled, and she let out a scream (and she really was not the screaming type, so it surprised even her), but the water settled her back down, and somehow she still had hold of the board.
A list. Okay . . . what to list? Things to do seemed a bit pointless given her current situation.
Another swell, and she swallowed a mouthful of water. She coughed—hard—then drew in a clean breath.
Things I wish I’d done in my life. A bucket list made moments before my impending death.
I wish I’d worn a life vest.
I wish I’d checked the weather forecast.
I wish I had put on waterproof mascara (because when they find my body, it would be nice not to look so dead).
I wish I hadn’t wasted so much time on Eric Anderson.
I wish I’d said I was sorry.
I wish I’d mailed the letters.
I wish I’d made it to my golden birthday.
After all, she’d spent twelve years wondering if he’d show. Or maybe that pact had been long forgotten, sucked down to the depths like dirt down a drain.
The next wave enveloped Louisa completely, heaving her under for so many seconds she was certain she’d lost the way back up and into the air. But no, another toss and there it was again—glorious oxygen.
She inhaled a sharp breath and coughed.
I wish I’d fallen in love.
She looked up at the sky, which had turned gray and dark. She hadn’t realized she had so many regrets. Her teeth chattered and she started to tire. These waves were kicking her butt. She’d practically resigned herself to dying when she spotted a headlight—a boat out in the sound.
She tried to lift her arm, but it was so heavy. She tried hauling herself onto the board, but she didn’t have the strength. Maybe she wasn’t doing as well as she thought. Maybe she’d already half died. She looked for a white light in the sky but saw nothing.
Maybe white lights were only for people who weren’t responsible for someone else’s death.
She’d never get over that as long as she lived, though it seemed that might not be much longer. Unless someone in that boat was the answer to her prayer.
She had to stay awake. She had to hold on. They had to see her.
Please see me.
The boat cut through the water, tossing in the wind, and again Louisa tried