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Back Memories in the Drift Save as PDF
Chapters (39)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CONTENTS
  5. CHAPTER ONE
  6. CHAPTER TWO
  7. CHAPTER THREE
  8. CHAPTER FOUR
  9. CHAPTER FIVE
  10. CHAPTER SIX
  11. CHAPTER SEVEN
  12. CHAPTER EIGHT
  13. CHAPTER NINE
  14. CHAPTER TEN
  15. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  16. CHAPTER TWELVE
  17. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  18. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  19. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  20. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  21. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  22. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  23. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  24. CHAPTER TWENTY
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  34. CHAPTER THIRTY
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  38. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  39. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

My emotions are rocks that collect in a pile on the ground at my feet, and I don’t know what to do with them. My mother is not the woman I remember most vividly; this remorseful, sober, loving woman is the one whose ghost used to haunt my dreams with memories of songs and kisses and nightly tuck-ins. It’s an overwhelming blend that pelts me with the rocks, starts my thoughts spinning a vortex around me until I am left confused and standing in a cold apartment, with the snow tapping against the window like something wants to get in, and staring at a woman who looks like my mother.

I rub my head, pull at the ends of my hair. The last time I saw her, she was stumbling toward me at graduation. But now we’re in Dad’s apartment; I know for sure because of the lingering smell of burned toast in the air and his favorite chair under the window. “Mom? What are you doing here?”

She squeezes my hand before pulling something from my pocket. A note card with three facts printed across the front:

  1. Dad died of a heart attack on September 21.
  2. Mom lives in Whittier and she’s different.
  3. Tate Dunn lives in Whittier and is the new harbormaster. You told him about the baby. You are friends.

I press a hand to my chest, but this information is not new. I can feel it, even it if fills me with a noxious blend of grief and hope. There are boxes scattered in the apartment. “Are you packing up his things?”

She holds out her hand. “I thought you’d like to help me.”

Despite an aching in my chest, I nod, and together we kneel in front of his bookshelves and start there.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Monday, February 11

The lobby is louder than normal with kids hanging out after school, sitting in twos and threes, talking, doing homework together. It brings a smile to my face.

Just as I turn toward the market, I glimpse a small form in the corner, away from the kids who laugh easily together. She’s got her knees drawn up and a booklet tucked on her thighs, eyes focused on whatever she’s writing or drawing. She can’t be more than ten, but she’s dressed in black pants and a black sweatshirt, and her dark hair is pulled into a high ponytail that curls around her head on one side. Maybe it’s the picture of her alone against the backdrop of comfortable banter and easy friendships, but something draws me toward the girl.

My phone vibrates with instructions. Market, Gardens. A twist in my belly reminds me to do what I have planned because going off schedule is murky territory where I easily lose focus.