Sailor Proof by Annabeth Albert

Chapter Thirty-Six

Arthur

“This family takes birthdays way too seriously,” I complained to Oliver, who was manning the grill. We’d all gathered for my dad’s birthday. Even Calder, who was still stateside, had come. It made me irrationally angry to see him, not Derrick. His crew was on extended shore time, but not Derrick, who was at the literal bottom of the ocean and not here with me where he belonged.

Meanwhile, there was Calder drinking a beer and laughing with my dad and giving me a very noticeable wide berth. If he was upset over Derrick and me being a legit thing, that was on him. But if the distance was more because he didn’t know what to say to me, that I could understand. I didn’t know what to say to me either. I missed Derrick more than I’d ever imagined possible. I’d thought I’d known what separation felt like, but I’d been wrong. And what I’d felt as a kid was far different from this adult reality.

I’d always assumed I’d be lonely and angry. But I didn’t feel abandoned, even if I was still unhappy with how we’d parted. Derrick didn’t have a choice here. I, however, did, and I spent most of my time obsessing over what to do, the choice he’d left me with.

“You’re cranky.” Mom passed Oliver a platter of uncooked burgers before coming to stand next to me. “You need a distraction.”

“A distraction?” Frowning, I leaned back against the deck rail.

“Something to take your mind off the wait,” Mom said patiently like I hadn’t tried every new show on my various streaming apps as a way to make it through the way-too-quiet nights.

“I sew,” Stacey volunteered.

“I tiled two bathrooms last deployment,” added Roger’s wife, Veronica.

Oh. I was in this club now, partners left in limbo, united by a shared understanding of exactly how awful waiting was, and I wasn’t sure I wanted membership. Or advice.

“I don’t need a new hobby.” I crossed my arms. “I’ve had several new contracts the last few weeks. Work keeps me busy.”

What I didn’t have, however, was a Derrick to share all that news with, and no amount of keeping my hands busy could help with that.

“It’s okay to admit you’re sad and that you miss him.” Stacey patted my tense shoulder. “But he wouldn’t want you all cranky.”

Wouldn’t he? That was an excellent question, one I didn’t have an answer to. Derrick had put up with me cranky at family camp, had seemed to understand my bad moods in relation to my family and never tried to jolly me out of them. But on the other hand, he’d all but given me permission to move on. He clearly assumed I couldn’t hack this separation, so why was I making myself so miserable? Perversely, his lack of faith in my ability to stick it out made me that much more determined. But it didn’t make me any less cranky.

“I bet you had a nice drive up at least.” Stacey nabbed a fresh drink from the cooler.

“Eh. Car needed exercise.” Driving alone had only reminded me how fun driving with Derrick was. But maybe Stacey had a point in that I could try to find joy in the few things I got to do for him. And I had found satisfaction in cleaning the car to his standards, getting it ready for the drive here, and I had felt close to him while driving to a playlist I’d made for him prior to his deployment. Maybe I didn’t need a hobby, but I could afford to get over myself a little more. Inhaling, I made an effort to sound less pissy. “I’m glad he trusted me with the car.”

“Of course he trusted you.” Mom passed me a bowl of chips. “He loves you.”

That remained to be seen. He hadn’t said the L word, but then neither had I. And he’d said I made him happy. And left me the car to watch over. If actions spoke louder than words, every touch, every look, every kiss had revealed both of our hearts for weeks. But was that enough? I wished I knew.

I shook my head at the offer of chips. “Sorry. Not hungry. And sorry I’m such crappy company.”

Sparing them more of my crankiness, I paced off into the yard, beyond where the kids were playing. Watching them made me remember the talent show and Derrick’s unbridled joy and pride. I sank down on a nearby bench. I wanted more of Derrick’s happiness, wanted reasons to make him smile, wanted to feel his pride, wanted to share every success with him. But damn, waiting was hard.

“You’re not crappy company,” my mom said, plopping down next to me on the garden bench.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” I admitted, dropping the attitude and getting real for the first time all afternoon. Much as she drove me up a wall, I also couldn’t lie to Mom, and she had a way of making me admit hard truths.

“Oh, honey.” She put an arm around me. “None of us are.”

“You are. You were always so cheerful, managing Dad’s absences, living your life without him around, being super mom and never complaining.”

“That you think that means I did a good job with you boys, but maybe a little too good.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t some sort of cheery zombie who never missed him and never got frustrated. But we had a plan, and I believed in our plan.”

“Oh?” Now it was my turn to frown.

“My job as a parent was to make things bearable for you kids, but your dad and I were a team.” Her tone stayed patient even in the face of my surliness. “We decided on each re-up together, considering all the factors. It wasn’t something he decided and I simply put up with.”

“Oh.” A team. Why hadn’t I thought of it that way before? And, more to the point, could I be that with Derrick? Team us. “But even though you were a team, it still sucked, being without him?”

“Yeah, it did.” She squeezed me closer. “But at the end of the day, I wanted to be on his team, with all that meant, even if it was hard.”

“Because it was worth it?” I’d heard her say similar things enough times, but this time I really let those words settle deep in my soul. That she thought the sacrifices she’d made were worth it was more than clear, but I’d always seen her as misguided in that belief, settling for less than she should have. I hadn’t seen the team at the heart of their marriage. I’d always focused on who she was without him, but maybe a better inquiry was who she was with him.

“I think it was.” She nodded, her gaze going distant as she glanced over at the kids. “But that’s a question only I can answer for myself. I can’t say if it’s worth it for you.”

“You can’t?” I wrinkled my nose. There was a whoop of laughter as the kids tossed a big beach ball. “You’re not here to tell me to buck up and soldier through for Derrick’s sake?”

“Nope.” She shook her head. “You’ve got to make that choice for your own sake, no one else’s.”

Choice.There was that word again and I hated it, hated that Derrick had left me with one instead of extracting a promise from me. Making it through as martyr would be so much easier than having to choose to be here. I made a frustrated noise.

“I know you think he’s good for me. The mature and responsible option, unlike my career aspirations.” My voice was bitter as my head churned, so much static filling my brain.

“He is good for you, but not if being with him makes you miserable.”

“Huh.” Did it make me miserable? I was doing an A+ job of convincing everyone around me of that, apparently. But inside, I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t want to be miserable and I didn’t think Derrick wanted me miserable either. But what if my attitude was the real choice all along, not whether or not to choose to love Derrick? I’d been struggling because I couldn’t seem to control my emotions about Derrick. But I could control my reactions and that was exactly what I had not been doing.

Mom brushed my hair off my forehead. I was in desperate need of a trim, and the gesture made me feel like I was ten again. “Being with you at family camp, I was reminded how special you are, how remarkable your gifts are.”

“I don’t fit in, though.” Even as I said it, I knew that wasn’t quite true. I had fit in with Derrick, had never felt out of place around him, and through that sense of belonging, I’d felt more at home around the family than I had in years and years. He’d centered me in a way that I couldn’t really make sense of, even in my own head.

“No, but you sure do stand out.” Mom laughed as loud as she had all day. “And as you’d undoubtedly say in a better mood, why fit in when you can be a star? Stand out. Do you.”

“You did listen.” I blinked. All that work at family camp had been worth something. She’d heard.

“I always listen. And that’s your challenge now. Be yourself. Don’t do something because we all expect it.”

“What if what everyone expects is the right thing to do?” I countered right as the bouncing ball landed between us. I batted it back to the kids. “What if the right thing for someone else is the wrong thing for me?”

She signed and leaned forward. “I wish I had an answer, Arthur. Do you, but doing you has consequences.”

“I guess the key is figuring out what consequences I want to live with,” I said at last.

“That’s all we can do,’’ she said as Oliver called from the back. “Oops, time to check the food. You okay?”

“Yeah, I think I am.” I exhaled as she walked away, but I didn’t budge from my spot. No easy answers, even from Mom. No one to tell me what to do. No—

My phone buzzed, interrupting my muddled thoughts. I checked the message and suddenly my weeks of deliberating and dithering over choice seemed silly. I’d known all along what I was going to do. And I didn’t need Derrick or my mom or anyone else to tell me. Do you. If I wanted to be the best Arthur I could be, and indeed the happiest me, there was only one real course of action. I’d been inching toward the answer all day, and now the universe had sent me confirmation, and I knew precisely what I had to do.