She nodded her head once. “I’ve been around horrible decisions before, Ethan. If you were as you say you are then it wouldn’t have been so easy to defuse you. When you mix alcohol, though, with a perfectly kind individual, that kindness can dissolve quickly. It’s toxic in so many ways.”
I nodded, letting the shame of her words sink into me. The reality of what I was going to do that night hit me like the atom bomb and my hands began to tremble in fear of what I’d almost done.
“You’ll be okay, Ethan Moonsong,” she said simply and turned her eyes toward the water once more.
After a few minutes of silence, she started a playlist on her phone and set it on a rock near the shore then removed her sandals and waded into the water. When the water reached the bottoms of her knees, she turned to me and signaled for me to follow her. I removed my own boots and socks but took my shirt off and met her side, soaking my jeans but I didn’t care.
“It’s tepid,” she said, running her fingers over the surface.
I nodded.
She stepped farther into the lake then began to float.
“Come on,” she said to the sky, so I obeyed. When I drifted close enough, she hooked her arm with mine. “We’re otterific.”
“What?” I asked, not able to stifle a laugh.
I could see from the corner of my eye her mouth turning up. “In the water, sea otters latch paws when they sleep so they don’t lose track of one another.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
I smiled. “When?” I asked after a few minutes of silence, not needing to embellish further.
“Two weeks, three days.”
“For how long again?”
“One year.”
I thought about that. “That’s an incredibly long time. What type of work will you be doing?”
“The toe-curling kind.”
A lump formed in my throat. “I’ll respect the vague. Just tell me one thing, though?”
“Depends on what it is,” she countered.
“Finley, is it dangerous?” I asked.
She was quiet, too quiet, making me nervous, but when enough time passed, I knew she wouldn’t be responding, so I had my answer anyway.
“Finley.”
“Please, let’s change the subject, Ethan.”
I sighed. “Why Vietnam?”
“Because I can. Next.”
“Where in Vietnam?”
“Hạ Long City.”
“I have no idea where that is.”
“It’s far north Vietnam and on the east coast, about two and half hours from Hanoi and about three hours south of China. It’s—” She paused then took a deep breath, “It’s a heavy tourist area.”
My gut tightened at her hesitation. I didn’t understand it but it made me nervous as hell. “I’m actually scared for you, I think.”
“I’m not afraid of death, Ethan.”
“Is death a possibility?”
“It is. I’m prepared for it. Plus, I’m carrying hope with me, so I’m cool.”
I turned toward her, my left ear sinking into the lake. “Finley, you’re not even the slightest bit afraid?”
She looked at me, the lake water rippling from her movement. “Ethan, you can choose to hope or you can choose to fear. Fear is a crippling disease. It takes over and paralyzes. Hope bolsters, motivates. People who fear, die. People who hope, live. Even in death they live.”
I let her words sink into me while we paddled closer to shore to prevent ourselves from drifting too far. We did this when the music started to feel too distant. We floated in silence, listening to her dynamite playlist and memorizing the stars and moon.
“Finley?” I asked a half hour later.
“Hmm?”
“You said at the bar that we were never friends in high school.”
“Right.”
I turned toward her again, our bodies rippling with the movement. “Do you really believe that?”
She sighed toward the stars. “Yeah, I do.”
“That’s bullshit,” I said matter-of-factly.
She didn’t respond, but I could practically feel her eyes roll.
“It’s bullshit,” I explained, “because there’s still merit in small conversations. Yeah, we might not have waxed philosophic, but we most definitely talked real life. I think you forgot that. To be honest, those seemingly nothing talks to you meant so much to me.” She furrowed her brow. “I needed to talk to someone so badly at that time about regular things, regular life. I was overwhelmed with responsibility then and felt like I was drowning. I found solace in our synoptic talks, Finley. I found worth in the culmination of those hundreds of hours we spent in one another’s company. I didn’t do that with anyone else.” I paused. “You were a soft place to fall,” I whispered.
Fragile tears pooled in her eyes and spilled into the lake beneath us. ”Don’t mistake me,” she explained. “They meant something to me as well. I just had no idea they signified anything to you. I assumed you were just passing the time with me, Ethan. It’s why I never considered us friends. I figured them as one-sided politeness on your end.”
“I was careful around you,” I admitted, her crush then an unspoken point, “but I was still vulnerable to you.” I was thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t want you to think that your friendship was only an escape for me either, though. I need you to know that I counted you as significant.” I looked at her and she looked at me. “You’re still significant, Finley.”