Her mother’s fingers clutched her coffee mug so tightly the tips turned white. “What’s wrong with the private party room at Lucia’s?”
“Steffi and Ryan overcame a lot of heartache and past mistakes to reunite.” She didn’t elaborate because very few people knew about the sexual assault. “They deserve something special. Something memorable.”
“It’ll be memorable if someone falls overboard!” Her mom huffed.
“Mom.” Claire forced a chuckle to ease the tension, although she still battled her own anxiety. “No one will fall overboard.”
“You never know. Things happen.” She pointed a finger at Claire. “Drunk people do stupid things.”
Her dad was now popping giant red grapes like Claire did M&M’s, but remained silent on the subject.
“We’re not throwing a frat party.” Claire reached for her mom’s hand and squeezed. “Please, I’m almost thirty-one, not ten.”
Her dad started choking and pounding on his chest, drawing her and her mother’s concerned attention.
“Dad, are you okay?” Claire’s pulse sped up.
His face turned pale blue, and he raised one hand in the air as the choking stopped and no air went in or out of his chest.
“Oh my God, Tom!” her mom shrieked, although panic seemed to paralyze her, as she sat there, blinking and shaking.
Claire sprang from her seat and circled her dad from behind. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him, clasping her fist just beneath his sternum, and attempted the Heimlich. She’d never done that before.
What if she failed? Oh God, please.
The first attempt produced nothing but a spike in her own panic. She adjusted her grip and jerked again. Still not hard enough. With all of her strength, she yanked her fists up into his sternum and finally popped the grape loose.
He gasped for air, touching his forehead to his forearms, which rested on the table. Tears of relief slid down Claire’s face while she caught her breath and let her own heart settle. When her mom rounded the table to tend to her father, Claire hugged them both.
Thank God. Thank God.
“Let me get you some water,” her mom finally said to her dad after kissing his face several times.
While her mom poured a small glass of ice water, Claire pulled her seat closer to her dad and stroked his arm.
“Thank you, honey. You saved my life.” His watery eyes set off another round of grateful tears.
“I love you, Daddy.” Claire set her cheek on his shoulder.
He patted her head. “I love you, too.”
Her mother set the water in front of her dad and collapsed in another chair. Like snow in the moonlight, the sheen on her pale face looked icy. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if Claire hadn’t dislodged that stupid grape. I’m getting too old to handle scares like that. You need to be more careful, Tom.”
There it was again. The “careful” mantra her family had repeated for the past sixteen years. The one that had cultivated the fear that had become an invisible fence, keeping them all hemmed in.
“My heart.” Her mom looked at Claire while patting her chest. “Please reconsider taking a job that requires so much travel. There are drifters in those touristy beach towns.”
She studied her parents, her mind churning with its sudden realization. “Dad could’ve just died right here in this kitchen, a place where, according to you, he should be perfectly safe. Peyton’s own body is trying to kill her. Accidents and illnesses don’t respect a safety zone. They just happen. Risk is everywhere, every day. And drifters could come into this community as easily as any other.
“I can’t keep living my life in a bubble. I want to be normal. To drive on the highway. To go to a crowded place and not drown in my own sweat. Maybe I need therapy. Maybe we all do. I’m not sure, but I do know I can’t take the guilt of feeling like I’m ruining your life by trying to live mine, Mom.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, but I couldn’t bear it if you got hurt again. That was the worst phone call of my life, Claire. You can’t understand because you don’t have children yet—”
“And I never will if I let fear make my life so small no interesting man will want to be part of it.” Claire pressed her hands flat on the table.
Her mom huffed, her eyes brimming with tears. “Is that why Logan left? Is he behind this sudden burst of resentment?”
Claire reached for her mom’s hand again. “I don’t resent you or Dad. I’m just asking