Free Wherever You Go by Heather Davis Page A

lot, his BMW swirling up a microcloud of dust. Jason got up and started taking off the mainsail cover. By the time he had it folded properly and stowed, his dad was boarding the boat.
    "Thought you were standing me up," Jason said.
    "Sorry. Got stuck in a meeting." His dad slipped off his leather shoes. "Big client. Trying to build a new mall over on the Eastside."
    "Sweet. Aren't enough malls," Jason replied.
    Ignoring Jason's comment, Peter went below deck to change.
    Jason ran the sheets to make sure they weren't tangled in a pile underfoot. He was used to the ritual of it all. Ever since his dad realized Jason was halfway dependable, he'd had his son rigging the boat, and that meant every line checked to make sure it wasn't fouled. Every knot tied a certain way. Every line properly coiled. Shipshape was no joke on the
Lucky Lucy.
Still, even with all the work, sailing was something they could do together, one of the few things they shared.
    Jason hopped down to untie the spring lines and bowlines as Peter emerged from the cabin dressed in shorts, a polo shirt, and deck shoes, a beer in his hand. "Ready?"
    "Yeah. She's ready."
    They cast off and motored out of the slip to the open lake. Jason made the familiar trip back and forth to untie and stow the fenders, which kept them from rubbing the dock or other boats in the slip. His dad always said it was bad luck to take them off until they were well out of the marina. Remove them too soon and you were bound to crash into another craft.
    "All right. Prepare to hoist," Peter called out.
    Jason took off the sail ties and stowed them, then he got on the halyard to hoist the main.
    Once they had the mainsail up, his dad Cl ue spring cut the engine. They sailed along for a little while, riding the momentum and a light breeze. Eventually, they brought out the jib, and soon they were headed on a starboard tack, on a long glide across the lake.
    Jason rode out on the bow for a while, the breeze blowing through his hair. He never felt as free as he did on the boat, with the wind and water working together and the sun warming his face. Even in foul weather, when Seattle skies were drenching them and the winds whipped up quickly, making the sailing urgent, necessary, he felt at peace. Aside from the terms and gear, sailing was simple, really: you picked a point of destination, trimmed your sails to suit the wind, and let the boat go.
    "Ready about?" Peter called out, preparing to tack again.
    "Ready." Jason hopped back in the pit and, when his dad gave the signal, released one jib sheet. As Peter turned the helm all the way in the opposite direction, the jib moved to the other side of the boat. Jason pulled in the sheet tightly on the new side, winching it down with a handle. The
Lucky Lucy
cruised along at a good clip now.
    "Dad," Jason said. "Why do you think Mom stopped sailing with us?"
    "Where's that coming from?"
    "Just wondering," Jason said, stowing the winch handle in the side pocket.
    "I'm not really sure."
    Jason sat back on the bench, watching his father focus on the telltales hanging listlessly on the jib. The telltales told you how close you were to the wind, and if you could get them to fly horizontally, you were right on course. Any more or less, you should adjust your sails or heading.
    "Come in a little bit," Peter said.
    Jason grabbed the winch handle and gave it a few turns to tighten the jib sheet. The jib stopped luffing as the sail better contained the wind they were headed into. The telltales twirled happily in the breeze.
    "Nice." Peter gave his son an appreciative nod.
    Jason put aside the winch handle. "Can I ask you a question?"
    "Course. What's on your mind?"
    "Still Mom. What's going on with you two? I mean, are you moving back to the house? You know, when you stop splitting your time at the Portland office?"
    "I don't know. Things are difficult between us." Peter gave Jason a sympathetic look.
    "I just want to know what's going on."
    His dad let out a long