I didn’t answer, glancing back toward shore, watching it slowly disappear as I considered his question. Was I okay? Since I’d begun this journey down memory lane with the Baumgartners, I’d felt uneasy, off-kilter. The world, which had once felt so safe and solid, had somehow tilted sideways and I was struggling to keep my footing-and I was afraid to look down to see what was waiting for me, should I fall.
“Where are we going?” I asked, turning back to watch Doc rowing, the oars slicing through the moonlit waves, his shoulder muscles flexing as each stroke took us further and further away from shore…from safety.
“Do you trust me?”
Of course I did. The man had been a little like a second father to me as a teen, and had transformed into an experimental lover during my young adulthood. He was kind, wise, and he loved me. I knew it was true…but being alone out here on the water, so far from shore, made me uneasy still. I wasn’t afraid of Doc, I knew that much. But what was I afraid of?
“Ronnie, do you trust your husband?”
Slowly, I nodded. I did, I always had, and he had proven himself to be trustable again and again. Thinking about TJ made me miss him suddenly, deeply, and I longed to hear the sound of his voice, to feel the rake of his whiskers over my cheek.
Doc stopped rowing, letting the boat drift. The waves rocked us gently up and down and we sat in the silence, looking at each other in the moonlight.
“What are you afraid of?” he asked, leaning toward me as he asked the question-the same question I’d been asking myself. It was just a two person raft, and when he moved, our crossed-knees touched. “Tell me.”
“I…” Shifting my weight made the boat rock. I steadied myself, shaking my head. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t you?” Doc grabbed the oars again and gave a strong, solid pull, sending us moving swiftly through the water again and making me gasp. “Are you afraid now?”
“Yes,” I admitted, swallowing hard and glancing back toward shore. We were so far! The windows in the house were just tiny squares painted on the night. “But I don’t know why.”
“You love TJ, don’t you?”
I nodded. “Of course I do.”
“Has he ever given you a good reason not to trust him?” He hadn’t. I mean, aside from a few things here and there-saying he’d do something and putting it off, small promises made not kept. But in the scheme of things, throughout our marriage? “No.”
“Does he lie to you?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Does he cheat on you?”
I hesitated then. We’d talked about being with other people, and now I had officially betrayed our marriage, twice, with his permission. But to my knowledge, he’d never cheated. He’d expressed an interested, yes, but technically…“No.”
Doc took my hands, looking into my eyes. His were dark and wet with reflected moonlight. “Do you really believe he would steer you wrong?”
“Not on purpose, I guess…” I bit my lip, thinking. “I’m just afraid he’s going to…well, like this…” I looked around us, at how far out we are, feeling the waves rocking the raft. I wasn’t stupid-I understood Doc’s metaphoric little boat trip perfectly. “What if he rows us out too far… or does something stupid, like throwing away our oars.”
“What if he does?” He squeezed my hands in his. “Would you trust him anyway?”
“I…” Frowning, I pulled away, shaking my head. “Why should I have to?”
“Love is trust,” Doc whispered, and the words were so soft the might just have been waves lapping at the sides of the boat.
I folded my arms across my chest-I was still wearing the spaghetti-strapped top and mini-skirt, and while the night was warm, the water made it feel cooler. “Why should I have to prove anything?”
“Why should he?” Doc countered with a wise smile.
I gave up, feeling tears pricking my eyes. “I just…I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to lose what we have.”
“Do you think he does?”
“No,” I admitted softly. TJ loved me, I knew that. He didn’t want to lose me or our marriage, any more than I did.
“Then trust him,” Doc urged, reaching over to wipe away one of my tears with his thumb and lifting my chin, making me look into his eyes. “Let your heart lead you. Not your fear. Not your guilt. Not your shame.” His words made so much sense and I felt myself melting, “Doc…”
“Trust him to steer the boat.” He leaned forward and kissed my wet cheek.
“But…”
Doc sighed, leaning back and snapping one of the oar holders open. “No buts, Ronnie. None. Not even if he throws away the oars.” He snapped the other open and my heart plummeted.
“What are you doing?!”
Doc gave each oar a shove and they were free, floating lazily away.
“Throwing away the oars.”
“Are you crazy?” I panicked, grabbing over the side for one and just succeeding in getting myself wet. It was already out of reach! “What now?”
“That’s a great question.” Doc smiled, leaning back, and I marveled at his calm. “Are you afraid?”
I looked back and forth between the oars as they disappeared into the darkness. “Yes!”
“But do you trust me?”
I stared at him, angry, confused, afraid…but still… “Yes.”