Drown #10: the mouse, part 7

January 2086. Jeremiah Day is 29.


"Go to South Carolina," she said. "Go to the ocean. You can start over. You’ll be happy there."

"Come to Fort Palmetto," Jeremiah's ISCA-appointed public defender said. "You are doing this so wrong, my friend."



Seven years ago, he held two shirts in his hands and asked the pretty girl on the other side of the clothing rack, "Which one do you like better?"

She said, "You’d look nice in blue, I think."

It was the first thing she'd ever said to him in that whisper soft voice. When she looked up from the shirts, he saw eyes as big and deep and blue as the ocean.

"Let me take you home," he said.

"No. No, I don’t think so."

"Then let me take you out."

"I don't know," she said. "Like, when?"

"Tonight. Now. What else are you doing instead? Come on, come on, don't let me down. You're breaking my heart already."

Her smile was a flicker. He could have missed it if he'd even blinked, but he didn't blink.

"I wasn't doing anything. We could go out, I guess," she said.







"Whoever he is, you don't need him."

"Need who?"

"Whoever you were crying over."

She turned her face away from him. "I wasn't crying."

"You can't lie to me, babe. I know all about it."

"About what? Crying?"

"About unrequited love," he said. 

She looked cautious, but curious. "What's your name?"

"Jeremiah," he said.

"You seem nice," she said. "Why are you being so nice to me? You don't even know me."

"I want to know you. Will you let me know you?"

"Maybe."

"We'll start slow. What's your favorite drink?"

"Root beer."

"A root beer for the lady," he told the waiter. "Whipped cream on top, because she's so sweet."

The way she blushed—so humble, so kind—yes, Jeremiah knew in an instant that she was exactly what he needed. She wouldn't be vain or selfish or bitchy or careless. She was a sweet girl, and he'd always wanted a sweet girl. She would be everything he ever needed. 




"Can I tell you what I'd do instead?"

"Instead of what?"

"Instead of making you cry."

She took a long breath and looked at him with those big, deep, ocean-blue eyes. "Okay," she said. "What would do you?"

"I'd be everything you ever needed. Anything you wanted. And you'd be my everything, too. I'd buy you whatever you wanted, I'd take you anywhere you wanted to go. Name a place, and we'll go there. Go on, I mean it. Name somewhere. Anywhere you haven't been to before."

He thought she wouldn't answer, but then she did with a fanciful smile on her lips. "I don't know. Maybe South Carolina."

"The ocean," he said. "I've never been to the ocean. Have you been there? We'll go together. I'll take you there. Will you let me take you there?"

She laughed, brighter now. "Do I need to answer that now?"

"Nah, take your time."

"Okay."


"Not too long, though." He flashed her his most determined grin. "Because I'm already sold on taking you to the ocean some day. Already in love with it. You're not going to break my heart already, are you?"




Stephanie had surprised him. She was the hardest he ever had to work to win anything. He always thought that with such a great effort would have come a great reward, but that wasn't how it worked out. Stephanie wasn't the sweet girl he thought she was. She was just as false as all of the others.

Stephanie could divorce him if she wanted to, but he wasn't going to just start over. They had a daughter together. Willow was created from the dream of this ocean and the promises they made. She was his blood. She was his great reward for so much effort, and he would not start over without her.

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