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  Falling Too Deep

  Shay Lee Giertz

  FALLING TOO DEEP

  BY SHAY LEE GIERTZ

  Published by Late November Literary

  Winston Salem, NC 27107

  ISBN (Print):978-1-7352800-0-4

  ISBN (E-Book):978-1-7352800-1-1

  Copyright 2020 by SHAY LEE GIERTZ

  Cover design by Sweet N’ Spicy designs

  Interior design by Late November Literary

  Available in print or online. Visit latenovemberliterary.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form without written permission of the publisher, except as provided by the U.S. copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters and events come from the author’s imagination or are used for fictional purposes. Any brand names, places, or trademarks remain the property of their respective owners and are only used for fictional purposes.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2020942285

  Giertz, Shay Lee.

  Falling Too Deep / Shay Lee Giertz 1st ed.

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedicated to Jonathan and Benjamin,

  my two favorite sons.

  The Fall

  ***

  There is a tide in the affairs of men.

  Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;

  Omitted, all the voyage of their life

  Is bound in shallows and in miseries.

  On such a full sea are we now afloat,

  And we must take the current when it serves,

  Or lose our ventures.

  -William Shakespeare

  1

  My feet couldn’t move fast enough. I saw Mom’s gray Taurus across the parking lot and moved as quickly as my flip-flops would let me. I opened the door, slid onto the passenger seat, and slammed the door closed. I tried to buckle the seat belt, but my hands shook from anger, and my vision blurred from tears.

  “Was it that bad?” Mom sat behind the wheel. She started the car then paused to touch my arm. I had to resist pulling it away. “Brooke? Talk to me.”

  “It was fine,” I lied. I turned to look out the window and forced myself to keep the emotions in check. At least until I was alone.

  For a moment, Mom didn’t say anything. But I knew it would be short-lived. “Any new memories?”

  And there it was. The question she’d been asking since the end of April. Exactly sixteen weeks and two days since the question began, and I still had no answers. What she wanted, I couldn’t give her. “No,” I said.

  I didn’t have to look at her to know her reaction. The brief expression of disappointment, the poor attempt to camouflage the grief, the fake smile that never reached her eyes. It’s how she’s reacted the previous six times a therapist, clergyman, or psychiatrist tried to figure me out. And I continued to go for her. Not because I wanted to, but because my mother was desperate for answers.

  Me? Not so much. I had resigned myself to the fact that I may never remember. For some freakish reason, my brain seemed to block that specific event.

  My family had decided to go camping for an extended weekend. That part I could remember. I remembered waking up in our family’s tent, the last one to get up. I remembered Bobby, my twelve-year-old brother, not saving me any bacon Dad grilled over the campfire. I remembered Mom and Bobby going into town for some groceries, and Dad coaxing me to go kayaking with him. I even remembered getting into the kayak with my stomach in knots.

  But nothing more. Nada. The next memory I had was some paramedic shining a light in my eyes.

  Now, as Mom and I drove back to the summer cabin, the silence hung in the air. Neither one of us seemed interested in talking.

  I kept my window down and let the warm breeze surround me. I hadn’t enjoyed most of the summer, and for a moment, I wished I would have. Summer was my favorite season for four reasons: sunshine, ice cream, a lack of snow, and flip-flops. But residing in a cabin with lake views was more like a nightmare. I wasn’t sure why my mother thought staying so close to the water would be good for me. I refused to go near it. Maybe she thought it’d bring back my memories. Unfortunately for her, it hadn’t. And unfortunately for me, I had stayed indoors for most of the summer months.

  “Want me to swing through a drive-through and get us a burger?” Mom asked.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Brooke, you need to eat.”

  Mom had lost some weight this summer, but nothing in comparison to me. Since I had been a little chunky to begin with, I wasn’t too worried about the fact that my appetite had disappeared along with my memory. But I didn’t want to upset Mom anymore. “You’re right. A burger sounds good.”

  She smiled and turned into McDonald's. “Good. I’m hungry too. How about ice cream? We’ll live on the edge a little.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” I pulled my long curly hair off my neck and into a ponytail.

  Mom squeezed my hand affectionately as we pulled up to the drive-through intercom. Five minutes later I had a soft-serve ice cream cone in one hand and a cheeseburger in the other. I ate both for her sake.

  As we entered the yacht club, I marveled at the lush gardens and landscaping, the impeccable homes and condos. “This place even smells rich,” I said. “I still can’t get used to it.”

  Mom chuckled. “I’m sure we haven’t seen the half of it.” She turned left as we headed to the south side of the club. “It was nice of George to let us stay the summer.”

  “Sure.”

  “Oh, come on, it hasn’t been bad. You’ve enjoyed your walks, haven’t you? And you’ve gotten to relax with your books.”

  “Sure,” I said again.

  Eventually, the summer mansions ended, and small lake cabins began. As we pulled into the one-car, graveled driveway, Mom said, “I won’t ask you to go to another therapist again.”

  I looked over at her and raised my eyebrows. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

  “I mean it,” she said sadly. “While you were in this last therapy session, Reverend Donaldson finally called me back.”

  “Who?”

  “I told you about him. He’s a Methodist minister from Ann Arbor who specializes in grief counseling. My widow support group told me about him.”

  “I don’t remember you telling me about him.”

  “Anyway, I set up an appointment two weeks from now once we’re back home.”

  I groaned. “Mom, I’ll be starting college. I’ll have classes and stuff. Plus, I should probably get a job at some point. Ann Arbor is like three hours away.”

  “I know. That’s what I’m saying. You don’t have to go.”

  I stared at her, wanting to believe her, yet waiting for the but…

  “He suggested that I give you space. That going from therapist to therapist isn’t working, and it may even be hindering you from naturally remembering. He said that the mind and its memories are powerful forces, and they have a way of unlocking themselves with time and patience. So, no more therapy sessions unless you decide you want one.”

  “You seriously think I would make a conscious decision to endure a thousand questions from head-doctors?”

  “I know. You hate probing questions.”

  “Yes, I do, especially questions where I don’t have the answer.” I opened the car door and slid out, shutting it behind me. “Thanks.” I suddenly felt guilty. I knew Mom wanted closure.

  “You’re welcome. Will you go and get Bobby? He’s probably still at the pool, and we need to finish packing and get ready for the end-of-summer yacht party.”

  “Okay, but we already talked about me not going, righ
t?”

  “You talked about not going, and I told you that it’d be good for you to go.”

  A part of me wanted to get out of the cabin on the last full day of the summer, but a larger part of me didn’t want to deal with all the people. A yacht on water spelled recipe-for-disaster in my book. “You know that open water freaks me out, not to mention everyone stares at me. Like I have two heads. It’s…uncomfortable.”

  “There is nothing to fear about the yacht or the water. It’s docked in the harbor. As far as other people staring, they mean well. Sometimes other people don’t know how to help someone grieving. And they don’t know what to say.” Then she stepped over to me and tucked a stray curl of mine behind my ear. “You should come.”

  “Not if Heather’s there.” Once I said the words, I knew that’s what bothered me most. Heather Fairchild. “The last place I want to be is anywhere she’s at. And since her parents own the yacht, her being there is a given.”

  “Diane said that Heather feels bad about the way things turned out. Maybe you could give her another chance. You two used to be friends.”

  I looked over at Mom with a give-me-a-break expression. It didn’t matter how many times I explained to her that I had no recollection of some family get-together with the Fairchilds back when I was five. But if Heather had the personality then that she did now, no wonder I couldn’t remember. I had probably been traumatized. “With Heather, guilt is a four-letter word.”

  “George and Diane have been kind. We’re staying here for free, aren’t we?”

  George Fairchild, Mom’s school buddy from back in the day, reached out to her when he heard about Dad’s death. That’s how we got to stay in the lakeside cabin for the entire summer. The Charlevoix Yacht Club boasted condo structures and lakeside mansions, but a few older cabins still littered the south side of the club for weekly rentals. “We’re staying in a cabin that hasn’t been updated in at least fifty years. I’m surprised they still have these.”

  “You’d probably have a great time, but I won’t push you. Your stuff is packed?”

  My stuff hadn’t left the oversized duffel bag all summer. “Yep.”

  Mom studied me with that same deep frown. I quickly looked away. I knew I worried her, but I didn’t know what to say or what could help. Other than not being here at the stupid yacht club. That would help. At least if I were home, I’d have my bed, my cat, Francine, and most importantly, my Wi-Fi. But she had tired of hearing that complaint after the first week of summer. Finally, she said, “Just go and get Bobby. I need to finish getting ready.”

  I started along the boardwalk that followed the familiar beach path throughout the entire club. Mom—in her efforts to help me—would kick me out for a little bit every day. “Go,” she’d command. “Get outside and do something productive.” Doing something productive pretty much consisted of me walking the boardwalk. It was far enough away from the water that I could enjoy the view without getting too nervous. Not that I could gaze at the water in surrendered rapture. It still made me queasy, and it reminded me of the blank spot in my memory. But there were other sights. Beautiful flower gardens, massive homes, and the warm sun and blue sky. I enjoyed the walk though I never admitted that to Mom.

  A tiny sports car zoomed by, the music blaring. I watched the back of Heather’s head, her long dark hair blowing in the wind, and listened as her laughter rose above the music. I wondered if I’d ever be that carefree again. If I’d ever cruise around with friends and laugh as if the worst possible thing imaginable hadn’t happened to me. If only I were so lucky…

  I made it to the round-about, which held this circular cornucopia of small shops, a concession stand, the pool, and sitting right at the shore, the Boardwalk restaurant.

  Once at the pool, I searched for Bobby. No sign of him. He could seriously be anywhere right now.

  As I cased out the place, I spotted Jayce. I debated going over to him. He was one of the few friendly faces around here. He graduated with me back in June and had been the only real friend during the early weeks of my grieving. He told me at graduation that he got hired at the yacht club to work the whole summer. I knew it was because he worried about me. Which made me the worst person ever because I pretty much hid from everyone, including him, these last three months.

  Seeing him scoop up ice cream, I told myself to at least go say hi and headed in his direction. “Hey, stranger.” I slid onto one of the tall stools.

  He paused from serving an ice cream cone to grin in my direction. “About time you came and saw me. I rarely see you around. I was starting to think you were part vampire or something.”

  “I am, but I’ve got really strong sunblock on right now.”

  “I stopped by your cabin a couple of weeks ago to see you if wanted to hang out. I had a day off, and a bunch of people were getting together for a bonfire.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know that. I’m usually there.”

  “No one was home. You must have gone into town or something.”

  Or I might have ignored the knocking. I did that a time or two. But I wasn’t about to admit that. “Well, I’m sorry I missed your visit. And thanks for thinking of me.”

  Jayce came over to me and studied me briefly. “So, how’re you really doing?”

  “No questions. At least not about that or anything else revolving around what I don’t want to talk about.”

  “Got it. Here’s an easier question: Want a slushie?”

  “Of course.” He went to the slushie machine and began to pour my drink. “So, have you saved any money?”

  “Hey! No questions,” he teased.

  “You don’t get to steal my hate for questions. And it’s only questions about certain topics that I don’t want to talk about.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ve saved some money. It’ll be enough to pay the first semester at the community college.”

  “Good,” I said. “I know it’s probably been tough working all summer when everyone else has been having fun.”

  “I’ve had some fun. Besides, I came to work here to keep an eye on you.”

  My mouth opened to say something, but I quickly shut it.

  “When you told me about your mom making you come here, I started thinking about how cool it would be to stay at a yacht club and be here for you should you need it. Not that you ever really needed it.”

  “And now I feel really bad that I was such a hermit.”

  “Don’t feel bad, I’ve had a great time.”

  “Maybe when we get back to Cadillac, we can hang out. I’m doing the community college thing too.”

  Jayce handed me a blue-raspberry slushie, then folded his arms. “I thought you got accepted to Michigan? Scholarships and everything.”

  “I did, but I don’t want to go.”

  Jayce raised his eyebrows but refrained from saying anything. Good. I didn’t want to hear all the reasons I should go away to college. It’s all I’d been hearing from my mother this entire summer.

  More customers approached. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  A group of preteen girls giggled at Jayce in an awkward attempt to flirt. I couldn’t blame them. Jayce was a cute geek with his brown wavy hair and glasses that periodically slid down his nose. It gave him a distinctly Clark Kent look.

  I sipped on the slushie and thought about how we first met. His family moved into town during our sixth grade year. During the end-of-the-school-year field trip to the lake, the new boy had tried to kiss me. I had shoved him into the bushes and ran away to find a teacher. Jayce hadn’t taken the hint and started to hang around me. We’d been friends ever since. He’d been the only friend to show up at my father’s funeral. He sat next to me during the service, not saying a word.

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Don’t think about it.

  “Hi, babe.” I heard Heather’s voice and turned to see her leaning over the counter to kiss Jayce.

  “Hey,” he said back. “I don’t get off work for another hou
r.”

  “I know, but I missed you.”

  I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t help it. Jayce and Heather? How in the world? The entire summer, she had been on the arm of at least half a dozen guys. “Weren’t you just with that Tony guy?”

  Heather looked over at me, and her eyes widened in surprise. But I could tell from her smirk that it was hardly surprising. “Brooke McFadden? I haven’t seen you around since forever.”

  “It’s been since the Fourth of July when you and your friends invited me to a party that didn’t exist.”

  Heather pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. But a laugh still escaped. “I’m sorry.” She raised her hands in surrender. “It was all in fun.” To Jayce, she explained, “We’ve always welcomed new kids with some prank. Last year was Michelle’s first summer here, and we had Rodney and the guys fake kidnap her. It’s tradition. You should count yourself lucky. We took it easy on you.”

  “I’ve got to go find Bobby.” I stood up and turned to walk away, only to smack into someone directly behind me. The contents of the slushie flew out of my hand and onto me. I gasped as the cold, stickiness dripped down and through the low v-cut of my shirt. I tried to ignore the laughter, especially from Heather.

  “Sorry, sis,” Bobby said. “Your shirt must have been thirsty.”

  I glared at him but bit my tongue. My brother had the same auburn, curly hair like me, but he had Dad’s sharp angular looks, whereas I resembled Mom with her high cheekbones and fair complexion. His quirky humor, however, was all him. And currently, I found it annoying. “Not funny.”

  “I thought it was.”

  Great, the cold liquid had traveled through my shorts. Jayce handed me some napkins. “I’ve been trying to find you. Mom said you need to get to the cabin and pack.”

  “Fine.” Bobby gave an exasperated sigh. “Thanks for ruining my fun.”

  “I’m not ruining your fun. Mom is!” I would have said good-bye to Jayce, but the slushie was cold and sticky on my skin. As I left the pool area, I was sure all eyes were on me.