make sense of what we’re up against when a wave peaks out of nowhere.
“That’s a wave!” Nivio yells, his voice muffled by the nearly 180-knot winds slapping the windows and steel surrounding us. The only thing separating us from drowning. “Holy hell!”
This one, it’s got height, speed, and hits straight on top of the wheelhouse in solid water. It drops the bow of the boat down and slams us into another.
We’re thrown violently into the starboard side of the wheelhouse, alarms blaring and everything pitch black. Almost vertical, the wave has blown the wheelhouse door right off.
I know the problem with this. Not only has the engine sucked in seawater, but it also quit, and without the boat steering properly, you can roll into a wave sideways, and you go with it. As we scramble to our feet, disaster lies dormant in the wake.
The next wave rises up, and we’re about to hit it sideways.
Loran - A satellite positioning system used for navigation in bad weather. Boats equipped with a Loran are usually safer than ones without it.
On Monday evening, just before the sun sets, the storm hits the coast. Hundred-mile-an-hour winds and the marina takes a beating. Avie, Presley, Mal, and I are at the bar boarding up the windows when I get an email from Derrick regarding contacting the donor family.
I don’t open it right away. I’m not sure I’m prepared to know anything about the donor, but then again, I think I’ve waited long enough. It’s time to face my reality. With a shaky grip on my emotional state of mind, I sit in the back room, staring at my phone.
For some reason, I think about that particular day. November 3, 2012.
That day wouldn’t have stood out to me, until it does. It’s just a day, but then again, it’s not just a damn day. It’s the day Athena died, and the day my life began again.
Coincidence? I’m not so sure.
That first night with Lincoln flashes in my head. The way he laid his head on my chest. The words “It doesn’t mean anything” when I asked about the tattoo on his shoulder, he doesn’t let me see.
Dryness coats my throat, and I find it hard to swallow. I nearly drop my phone as I continue to stare at the black screen, unable to slide my finger across the glass and find out for sure.
My hands tremble while my skin feels like a million degrees, and my heart beats so fast. With a deep breath, I open the email.
I blink, my pulse in my ears.
Dear Ms. Weldon, The donor family wishes to not be contacted at this time.
The donor name isn’t disclosed, but they give me the following information.
Female age twenty-three from Oregon.
Athena was twenty-three when she died and from Oregon. I place my hand over my mouth. No… it couldn’t be. No. Things like this just don’t happen. Or do they? Had he known who I was the entire time?
Is that why he came into the bar?
And though I don’t know for certain, something deep inside me screams the truth. I have her heart. I have to, don’t I? That’s why I have a connection with him. At least it feels that way.
“You okay, babe?” Presley asks, peeking her head inside the supply room.
Startled, I nearly drop the phone. Nodding, I rearrange my expression and wink at her. “I’m good. I’m just going to check on Fletcher and Atlas to see how they’re holding up.” Tucking my cell phone into my back pocket, I stand up.
She stops me. “Seriously, you don’t look good. What’s going on?”
I forge a smile. “Nothing. I’m fine.” I’ve never been very good at lying, but for some reason, I am right then.
Grabbing my jacket from the break room, I sneak out the back door before Avie and Mal notice me. I know the one person who can give me answers.
Outside, the storm rages. The wind and rain pulse angrily through the sky, just like my thoughts. The pine trees creak and groan, and the waves growl and crash with loud rumbles. For a moment, I stop and stare up at the dark gray sky. Something inside me is at ease, despite the confusion. I feel relief? Maybe because even though I wasn’t given information, I think in a way I was. I don’t know what it is. My breathing slows, a steady inhale and exhale. It’s like I’m frozen in place, unable to move until I’ve calmed myself down.