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How things were

She watched the lifeless face slip beneath the lapping waves, but she no longer saw the man. She could only think of Anne. This one act couldn't bridge the chasm that had split the ground between them, but it made her feel steady and sure.  Truthfully, her body had been shaking for the last hour. The mist that sprayed from the bow of the small boat rose in clouds that she drifted through.  Everything was damp in the predawn air.  She found an old towel the owners must have used for wiping droplets off the smooth blue sides of the vessel.  It was thin and had holes, but it felt good to have something to wrap around herself.  The gaping mouth of the real world waited to swallow her at the edge of the water, and she hesitated.  Had she been careful enough? In the back of her mind she knew that Anne would realize the truth, at least the important part of it.  Even if they never spoke again, it would have been worth it.  For a moment, she considered pointing the small craft at the predawn blue and never looking back.  How far would she get? Would she want to come back when it was too late? Whatever she was, she wasn't a thief.  Carefully picking out the place where she found it, she tied a number of confusing knots to make sure the watercraft wouldn't drift away and stealthily made her way back to the road.  No one had seen.

She couldn't help herself but to go by the house, though she swore never to return.  She created the curving hill of the seaside road and the sky was aglow in the wrong direction.  She made a quick mental calculation and pushed the pedal to the floor.  The gravel slid beneath her tires as she turned onto the access road too quickly.  Barely getting the car under control, she cursed her carelessness.  If she didn't get it together, she would have a lot more trouble than getting out of a ditch.  She glanced at the garbage bag in the passenger seat beside her. She'd have to find someplace to burn it.  She found the place burning quite efficiently when she arrived.  The silhouette of Anne holding her daughter close flickered against the bright heat. She leapt from the car and went to them, all inhibitions forgotten.  Anne let her embrace them, then pulled away.  Fire and shadow danced in her eyes. They were met with shame and fear, begging silently for forgiveness but expecting none. Anne pulled the little girls head against her, laying her hand gently but firmly over her free ear.

"I didn't have a choice. You never were very good at cleaning up after yourself."

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened to speak, but there was nothing to say that Anne didn't already know.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't..."

"You did what you had to do. So did I. It's going to be better now."

Hope stirred in those dark eyes, and apology. The fire was diminished by dawn, and nothing was left of how things were.
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