Free Wherever You Go by Heather Davis Page B

breath. "The truth, son? Well, I don't know that your mother and I are in love anymore."
    That was hard to hear. He hadn't ever imagined that things would sound so over, so Cd sem">
    "How does that happen?" Jason asked. "How do you just decide that you don't love someone anymore?"
    Peter laughed uncomfortably. "That's a good question. Maybe people aren't who you think they are. Or maybe they just change over the years."
    "Mom's not who you thought she was?" Jason said, shielding his eyes against the dying sun.
    "No. I mean, it's not that simple." Peter shifted at the helm, reaching for the open beer can in the cup holder. "Let's tack again."
    They brought the jib to the other side of the boat, and Peter steered toward Gas Works Park, the landmark that anchors the north end of the lake. "People change. I can't put it more simply than that."
    "So, you changed," Jason said.
    "We all change." He motioned for Jason to come take the wheel. "I'll always love your mother, but that doesn't mean we belong together."
    Peter handed off the helm to Jason and took a seat on one of the benches in the pit. Jason brought the boat around and they headed downwind, jibing on a broad reach. They took their time, sailing in near silence except for commands. When the sun began to dip, Jason headed the boat back toward the dock.
    "Dad, do you think we could take some friends out this week?"
    "Out on
Lucy?
" Peter said.
    "Yeah," Jason said as they furled the jib. "My friend Holly and her grandpa."
    "Maybe. We'll see."
    "Dad, it's not a 'we'll see' kind of thing. This dude is old and Holly takes care of him. She'll need a firm plan."
    Peter let out a long sigh. "I've got client meetings for the next few afternoons." They lowered the mainsail, flaking it over the boom and fastening it with the sail ties. "This is a really bad week."
    He slid the cover over the sail. "This is important. It's not like I'm asking for much, Dad."
    Peter started up the engine and motored toward the slip while Jason got out the fenders.
    "This girl someone you're trying to impress?" Peter gave Jason a playful smile.
    "Seriously. Can you do this for me? Can we just take Holly out on the boat and you'll promise not to be a total nerd?"
    "I've never been a nerd," Peter said.
    "Right." Jason jumped from the boat to the dock to secure the bowline.
    C nee d"I just mean that you can't embarrass me."
    "Uh-oh. You've got it bad," Peter said.
    "Ha." Jason secured the spring lines that would keep the boat from rocking around in the slip. "She's not my girlfriend or anything. We're friends."
    "Not girlfriend material? Well, I guess after Faith she'd have a lot to live up to."
    "No. No. It's not like that. Give me a break. She's nothing like Faith. She's just a girl."
    "So she's pretty amazing, then," Peter said, fastening the mainsail cover.
    "Yeah," Jason admitted. "But she's, um, well—she used to date Rob."
    "Oh." Peter slid the hatches into place and locked up the cabin. They grabbed their gear and walked up the dock toward the parking lot. "Listen," Peter said, "don't you think if Rob had his say, he'd let you know he'd rather see Holly happy than miserable over someone who's gone for good?"
    "Yeah, maybe. But it's not me who's got the problem about this whole thing."
    "So you do like her. All right, how about Tuesday? I promise not to embarrass you," he said, throwing an arm around Jason's shoulders.
    "I think that's impossible, but okay. Deal."
    Peter unlocked the BMW and hopped inside.
    Jason went around to the driver's side of his Audi and looked out toward the dipping sun. The horizon was as vivid as a melted pile of crayons. There wasn't any warmth left in the air, though, and he shivered, watching the sun turn blood red as it sank.
    His dad was probably right, that Rob would want them to be happy, so why should he feel guilty for liking her? She was amazing. She cared deeply about other people. She was dependable. She had this laugh, rare these days, that made you want to