Fisher's Light

He pauses to chuckle, shaking his head while he sits there, probably remembering when it happened. I can imagine it perfectly in my head, especially after the talking to she gave me on the beach earlier, and I almost laugh myself until I remember that I wasn’t there when I should have been. It should have been me helping her when something went wrong at the inn. The fact that my money helped is no consolation; it just makes me feel worse. I never wanted her to feel like the money I’d made could fix everything or that she couldn’t do something on her own without my help. It pains me to know that she didn’t want to touch that money and the choice was taken out of her hands. I can only imagine how much that would have hurt her already bruised pride.

“That doesn’t explain the monthly deposits she mentioned. Where in the hell did those come from?”

Trip shrugs and goes back to his sandwich. “I might have said some things to your mother right after you left. You know, just throwing out how the girl was struggling and how she refused to accept anything from me. Might want to check with her.”

I narrow my eyes at him, but he ignores me, finishing off his meal and taking his plate to the sink to wash it. He absolutely knows more than he’s letting on, but he gave me enough information for now. Time to move on to the next responsible party.

“I can’t believe you’ve been back on the island for two weeks and this is the first I’m seeing you.”

I kiss my mother on the cheek and she slides her hand through the crook of my arm, leading me into the front sitting room of my parent’s home. We sit down together on the love seat and I turn to face her.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve just been really busy. I meant to stop by right when I got into town, but things got a little crazy with work,” I explain.

“I saw the new sign on the front of the Lobster Bucket this morning, it’s beautiful,” she beams, reaching over to pat my hand.

I took Lucy’s advice and tried to figure out a way to make amends with the people whose businesses I fucked up the night of my meltdown. The windows I smashed had long since been repaired, so it’s not like I could fix those, but I could at least do something else to show my appreciation for the support they’ve always given me and to apologize for what I did. I’ve spent the last two weeks making brand new wooden signs for each of the three businesses, as well as new benches for the front of their shops that have the names of the businesses carved into the backs of them. I’ve worked nonstop, only stopping to sleep and eat when my shoulder and arm gave out on me, but it was worth it. Delivering the gifts personally and talking to the owners, people who have been in my life since birth, was as rewarding as making it thirteen months without a drop of alcohol. We talked, I apologized and explained to them what I was going through at the time and they each forgave me easily and welcomed me back into their establishments. It was a step in the right direction and it made me feel good about myself for the first time in a long time.

“Thanks,” I tell my mother. “I delivered Sal’s this morning. Old man actually shed a few tears when I gave him the sign. I just have one more to finish up and deliver and then I’ll be done.”

My mother smiles at me and squeezes my hand.

“You’re looking good, Fisher. Healthy…happy. I like the beard,” she tells me with a smile.

I run my hand over my cheek and shrug. “I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about shaving it.”

She quickly shakes her head. “Oh no, don’t do that. I hear scruff is all the rage with the ladies. At least, that’s what it says in my Cosmo.”

We both laugh easily.

“Yeah, well I’m only looking to make it the rage with one lady in particular, and she seems to be into the clean-shaven, suit-wearing look nowadays,” I tell her, trying not to sound so depressed.

Even though I’ve been sequestered in the basement of my grandfather’s house for the last two weeks, I’ve still had to run into town every once in a while to grab supplies and I’ve seen Lucy a few times from a distance—always with Stankford, always looking beautiful and always laughing. It should be me making her laugh, me whose hand she holds as she walks through town. I hate that every time I see her she’s wearing fancy clothes with her hair and make-up all perfect. She was never more beautiful than when she was fresh-faced in just a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

“Things aren’t always what they seem, Fisher, you should know that. Look how long I went without realizing how much you were suffering? It kills me that you were in so much pain all that time and I never even knew,” she tells me sadly.

“Mom, don’t. No one knew, not even Lucy. It wasn’t exactly something I wanted to share with people. It was a dark time and I fell apart. I hurt a lot of people and I’m glad you weren’t around to witness it,” I tell her.

Not only did I push Lucy away back then, I also pushed my mother away. I stopped coming out here to the house for dinner and I stopped accepting her invitations to meet in town. I was already dragging Lucy down with me, and I didn’t want my mother to be affected as well.

“Speaking of Lucy, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about monthly deposits into a special savings account in her name, would you?”

She looks away from me guiltily and starts fidgeting with the gold watchband on her wrist.

“M-o-o-o-m?” I drag out her name and tap my fingers against my leg, waiting for her to admit what she did. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">