Good for You: A Novel (11)

SIX


That night, Aly dreamt she was on a boat. She hadn’t been on one in more than a decade. Although she’d grown up near the shore, and she and Luke had made up dozens of stories during their childhood about a brother and sister who sailed around the world, she didn’t like the water—or at least not how powerless it made her feel. But in her dream, she was in the middle of a vast lake, or maybe it was a sea, and the waves were crashing over the side of her dinghy.

In Aly’s dreams, she was always aware of her real-life limitations and constraints; she was always herself. And so, in this dream she was all too aware that she had no idea how to sail.

“Luke!” she cried out, frantically glancing around for him. She knew, the way you just do when you’re dreaming, that he was there with her on the boat—or at least he had been very recently. Luke had taken up sailing in his late teens and had immediately become obsessed with it. He could help her. “Where are you? I need you!”

Above her, lightning split the sky and the boat lurched sideways. Then, suddenly, she was overboard.

I’m wet. Aly could actually feel the water around her, pulling her under. She was a decent swimmer, but she was no match for these waves, for this storm. I’m going to die, she thought as water filled her nose and mouth, and then her lungs. Just like my brother.

Suddenly she was at the shore; she was dragging herself up the beach; she was in front of Luke’s house.

And he was there.

“Did you save me?” she gasped. “How did I get here?”

Luke flashed her his crooked smile. “You swam, you crazy shark,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. He was so warm and welcoming that she didn’t even care that she was soaking his shirt. “You saved yourself. I was just watching to make sure you knew how.”

Aly’s eyes flew open. She was drenched in sweat; no wonder she’d felt water on her skin in her dream. The clock on the bedside table read 4:04. Outside, Eighteenth Street was as silent as it ever would be.

According to an All Good article about sleep, though dreams are often interpreted symbolically, they’re really nothing but an opportunity for the brain to problem-solve and form new memories. Anyway, Aly didn’t believe in signs.

Or at least she hadn’t. Because as she threw off her soggy covers and got out of bed, she could not deny that this particular dream seemed like far more than an expression of her overanalytical mind, or even her latent sorrow.

It was the first time she’d dreamt of Luke since he’d died, and he’d spoken directly to her. It had to mean something; it just had to.

Aly spent the rest of the day packing and preparing. Early the following morning, Manhattan disappeared behind Aly as her cab sped into the Queens Midtown Tunnel. A few hours after that, clouds swallowed the city as her plane rose in the sky. She didn’t want to leave; she didn’t want to deal with the house now, when she needed to focus on getting her career back on track. But even in her subconscious, Luke was right, just like he’d always been. She was a shark, and she needed to keep moving.

And at this juncture, the only way for Aly to keep moving was to do the one thing she dreaded most.





SEVEN


“Denied?” Aly looked at the woman at the car rental desk with surprise and horror. “Are you sure?” Yes, she’d put the last-minute plane ticket on the credit card she’d just handed to the clerk—but she’d covered half the fee with the airline miles she’d accumulated while racking up debt over the past couple years. Had the occasional takeout order here and box of tampons there really added up to that much money? How did anyone even manage to live anymore?

“I’m afraid so,” said the woman kindly, even though she probably had this exact conversation several times a week. “Do you have another card you can try?”

Aly swallowed hard. Her American Express was already maxed out, so that wasn’t an option. The only other choice was her debit card. Her bank account contained enough cash to get her through three weeks of expenses, at best—never mind that she would be without a paycheck for four. Well, she’d made do with less before. Maybe she could spend part of the next month editing assignments and admission essays for students, like she’d done to make ends meet when she was in college. Or she could try to sell the designer purse Seth had gotten her for her birthday last year. It didn’t match the rest of her wardrobe, and she’d always felt like a phony carrying it. Or . . . something else, something that didn’t involve borrowing even more money that she wouldn’t be able to pay back this decade.

As she rifled through her overpriced bag for her wallet, she tried not to focus on how much she hated herself for telling James she’d accept a lower salary, even if it was only until the magazine was doing better.

“Do you take debit?” she asked, and the clerk nodded. “Great—but I’m going to have to change my reservation. How much would it be to just rent the car for twenty-four hours? Is there a place in Saugatuck where I can drop it off tomorrow?”

“Hmm.” The clerk frowned and began typing rapidly on her keyboard. After a moment, she said, “The nearest drop-off location is in Grand Rapids.”

“That’s forty-five minutes away,” said Aly. She’d tried to book a flight to the Grand Rapids airport, but they’d been nearly twice the price of flying into Detroit. “How can I get from there back to Saugatuck?”