“Jumping?”
“A woman. From this pier.” She pokes a barnacle-crusted piling with her paddle.
“Whoa. How?”
“I beached my board and went up to help her. Talked to her.” Avery shivers. “Talked her down.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to start, talking someone down.”
“Mostly, I just listened.” Avery shrugs. “But it was weird. I’d never seen her before. Sowell Bay is such a small town. When someone new pops up, it’s an event.”
“I’ve noticed.” Cameron can’t help but think of Tova and her gossiping knit-nutters, or whatever they’re called. And about how much Ethan loves to give him the down-low on the town’s drama when he gets home from the store. “So, what did you do once you got her down?”
“Helped her to her car. Guess I could’ve called the police, but . . .” She lets out a long breath, then plasters on a forced smile. “Anyway, why am I telling you this? My original point was, Marco would be grounded for life if I found out he was messing around up there.”
“He’s lucky to have such a good mom.”
“Yeah, well, my own mama took no shit from me. I guess it’s how I was raised.”
“I wish I’d been raised that way.” Eyes focused on the water, Cameron tells Avery about his mother leaving him at Aunt Jeanne’s house and never coming back.
“God, I’m sorry, Cameron.” She lifts her paddle and lands it on the nose of his board, then uses it to pull his closer. After they bump softly, she rests a hand on his knee.
Footsteps pound on the pier above them, echoing through the wood. One of the teens lets out a shriek, and for a second Cameron expects a testosterone-fueled body to hurl over the side toward the dark water below. But then, peals of laughter.
He shivers. “Sometimes I wonder if she’s even still alive.” His voice drops. “But then I also wonder whether that makes it worse. That she’s been out there, all these years, and never tried to be a parent again, you know?”
“Your aunt never hears from her, either?”
“Nope.”
Avery runs her finger along the edge of her board, leaving a trail of little water droplets behind it. “That must have been really hard for your mother.”
“Hard for her?”
“To leave, I mean. To leave you with someone who could do better.”
Cameron snorts softly, about to retort, but he can’t quite find the words. Of course he’s heard that sort of line before, people saying that his mother ditching him with Aunt Jeanne was a blessing in disguise. An act of mercy, even. Even Aunt Jeanne herself used to say that. Those comments always seemed like grade-A bullshit, hollow platitudes meant to make him feel better. But somehow, hearing them from Avery, the words feel real and solid.
When he was younger, he used to imagine what life with his mother would have been like, but in those fantasies, the mom figure was always . . . well, a typical mom. Like some version of Elizabeth’s mom, with her aerobics videos and famous recipe for butterscotch cookies. Naturally, it hurt like hell to mourn the loss of that. But maybe Avery is right. It never could have existed.
“I went through some shit when I found out I was pregnant with Marco,” Avery goes on. “Decisions, you know. And every single person in my big obnoxious family had an opinion on the matter. Thought I’d be ruining my life, no matter what I did.”
“People and their opinions generally suck,” Cameron says. “And for the record, you’ve done an amazing job with your life.”
“Well, yeah, I kind of have, right?” A half-modest smile flashes across her face before it turns serious again. “But back then, I was seventeen. I had no idea what I was doing. I decided to keep the pregnancy, but there were moments when I thought it might be better—for Marco, if not for me—to let someone else have him.”
“You thought about giving him up for adoption.”
“Almost went through with it.” She hugs her knees to her chest. “My family, they all kept saying it was best for everyone. And in my case, they were wrong, you know? But I understood their argument. It can be the right decision.”
Cameron sees again, in his mind, the self-assured way Avery ruffled her son’s hair. Took no shit about dirty socks on the floor. He can barely scrape up enough money to buy a crappy camper with money siphoned from his overly generous aunt, and meanwhile, Avery has raised a whole entire human being, not to mention buying a house and a paddleboard store, and doesn’t think twice about giving away a twenty-dollar jar of organic Vaseline, for free, to a schmuck like him. A sucker for injured creatures, indeed.