The Rowboats

  The two rental boats we’d gotten were sturdy enough, but unsteady. The three of us came out to Reed Lake right before the sun set for the night, and we’d rowed to the middle just in time to see it happen. The rippling water was set on fire by the orange light, but that wasn’t why I was here. 

  The outing was Gina’s idea. She was a friend of mine and had asked me to come along. Why, exactly, I wasn't sure. She and David—her newest partner and a friend from my workplace—seemed no less than enthralled in each other's company, sitting opposite each other in a little rowboat on Reed Lake. I kept a distance from them, following in my own boat and watching them banter back and forth. I couldn't help but smile as the two laughed and chattered like old friends, and I came to a stop to watch them go on without me.

  Gina had been through rough patches before in her previous relationships, but with David, things seemed to be going more smoothly than ever. They'd met half a year ago at a job interview I managed to land for her, and the two had hit it off from the moment they started talking. The dynamic only seemed to blossom. Just how good would it get? Gina loved the highs of her flings, but I worried for her when she hit the lows. David, too. He seemed committed to her for better or worse; she, on the other hand, had always been of a skittish nature. I was, in all honesty, surprised and pleased to see the couple make it to half a year. Whether she'd stick it out this time was to be determined.

  Gina had a long history of being the first to leave. I’d stayed in contact with her as she fled from city to city in search of opportunity, personal or professional. She’d always stay until something—or someone—better came. Then she’d be gone with the wind. I tried to influence her, to help her find stability, but she didn’t want it. The escape of a new home never lost its appeal to her, and she never neglected a chance to chase it—even if the loss of what was familiar came with it. Even when novelty itself became a form of stagnancy, Gina couldn’t pull herself from it.

  Their boat began to rock as their ribbing came to playful shoves. They grinned like fools, seeming unaware of the water flooding the craft. I would have cautioned them, but I knew they wouldn't hear me.

  I remembered a conversation Gina had with me not a week ago. It wasn't about David (not at first, anyway), but a job opportunity she'd received. It would take her to another city, and she had already accepted the opportunity. The change would benefit her greatly, and she told me she thought it was time for a change in scenery, but she went quiet when I asked if she'd told David yet. He was a homebody, and I doubted he'd be willing to up and move to be with her... but even if he was, it seemed only a matter of time before she found some other life changing decision to hide from him. As I've said, she was high-spirited; she didn't communicate for fear of tying herself down to her promises. Though I understood, I knew it wasn't the best quirk to have in a partner.

  Even now, as the vessel reached its tipping point, pitching wildly, I knew Gina hadn't told him anything. A part of me wanted to tell him she’d leave, just to spare him the lost hope of a long-term relationship.

  Finally, the two of them catapulted toward the surface of the water together.

  But they hovered above it instead of plunging in.

  The boat stood still, and the ripples of the Reed Lake paused like little hills and valleys. They distorted the lights of the city around us.

  Gina's face was frozen in a wide smile, even though she knew where things were going. David obviously knew they would fall too, but in light of the full picture he still seemed oblivious. In Gina's eyes, today was today and tomorrow was tomorrow—but to him, tomorrow was forever.

  I knew how things would unfold now, and the knowledge killed me. They were happy now, but they'd hit the water all too soon. The laughter would pause. They'd go under together, but David would be pulled down. Gina would recover (as she always did) and move on to new opportunities. As for David, there'd be a delay in his return. He'd come back, but not without his scars.

Was it fair? Was that really for me to decide? Or did they know what was coming?

  David didn't know about the job, but he knew Gina. He wasn't blinded enough by his desire to know she lived on the fence to be ignorant. Maybe he was just spending time with her before the end came. He was sincere in his pursuit of her, but her passion would be fleeting. Maybe they both knew that he'd be ready for its passing.

  That he'd have to be.

  The boat's violent motion resumed, and the two of them disappeared under the water. 

  From there, I’d watch what happened. I’d help if someone got hurt, and I’d be there for both of them. I couldn’t tell them how to live their lives. I couldn’t make them do anything, even if I thought it would help. Soon enough, the two would hit their rough patch, and Gina probably wouldn’t let the relationship recover. I’d be there to help them both heal. Part of me thought it wasn’t right to let them crash and burn, but the other half knew it wasn’t my place to intervene. The relationship would go where it went, and it was all I could do to be there, waiting in my own boat to help them with theirs.