Silent Fall

oblivion. He wanted... so many things.
    "Dad?"
    He tried to focus, but he couldn't see clearly. It's the alcohol, he told himself, but when he wiped the back of his hand across his eyes, it came away wet.
    "Are you all right?" Kate asked with concern on her face.
    Kate had the look of Nora in her eyes, but her hair was blond, her skin a golden brown and free of the beautiful freckles that had kissed Nora's nose. Kate's face was stronger, too, her jaw as stubborn as his own. There were other differences as well. Nora's love had never wavered. But Kate's...
    "The boats are coming, Katie girl. There's a wind brewing. You know what that means? You know where we should be?"
    "Not today," Kate replied.
    "You never want to sail anymore. I don't know why." He shook his head, trying to concentrate, but his head felt thick, his brain slow.   "What happened to us, Katie?"
    "Let's go home."
    Home? Where was home? He'd had to sell the Moon Dancer. It had almost broken his heart, selling his beloved boat. Now he lived in a small old sailboat. He'd wanted to call the boat Nora, but he couldn't quite bring himself to paint his wife's name on the side. Nora wouldn't have been proud of this boat or of him. Kate wasn't proud of him, either.
    "I'm sorry, Katie. You know how sorry I am?"
    "You're always sorry when you drink." Kate put out her hand to him. "Let's go home."
    "I can't go now. I'm telling Will here about our big race."
    "He's heard it before. I'm sorry, Will," Kate said.
    "It's no problem," Will replied.
    "What are you apologizing for?" Duncan demanded. "I ain't done nothing. And I'm your father. You don't apologize for me." He got to his feet, wanting to remind her that he was bigger and stronger and older than her, but the sudden motion caused him to sway unsteadily. Before he knew it, Kate had a hand on his arm. He wanted to shrug her away. In fact, he would do just that as soon as he caught his breath, got his bearings.
    "Need some help?" a man asked.
    Before Duncan could answer, Kate said, "What are you doing here?"
    "I was thirsty."
    "Can't blame a man for being thirsty, Katie girl," Duncan said, feeling more weary by the second. "I gotta sit down."
    The man grabbed Duncan's other arm as he started to slip out of Kate's grasp.
    "Your car?" he asked.
    "I don't want to go home," Duncan complained. "I want another drink."
    The alcohol is going to kill you, Dad," Kate told him as she and the man managed to walk him out of the bar and into the parking lot.
    "Better the alcohol than the loneliness," Duncan murmured. Kate pushed him into the front seat of her car. His eyes closed and he drifted away. He was finally able to sleep.
    Kate saw her father slump sideways in his seat. For a moment she felt a surge of panic that he wasn't just sleeping, that something was happening to him, that he was sick or   --   no, she couldn't think the word, much less say it. Her father was strong as an ox. He wasn't even that old, barely sixty. He was just drunk. A terrible, lousy drunk. A terrible, lousy father for that matter. Why was she worried about losing him when it was so apparent that she'd lost him a long time ago?
    "You'll need help getting him out of the car," Tyler said, interrupting her thoughts.
    She'd almost forgotten he was standing there. "You've gotten yourself quite a headline, haven't you? 'Victorious sailor turns into worthless drunk.'"
    "Is that how you think of your father?"
    "No, but it's probably what you'll say."
    "How do you know what I'll say?"
    "I've been interviewed before, had my words twisted."
    "Is that where your resistance comes from?" he asked with a thoughtful expression on his face. "I'm not interested in embarrassing you, Miss McKenna. I just want an interesting story. Fame, success, adventure   --   those are things that change people's lives forever. Most people never experience even one of those, much less all three, the way you did."
    Kate didn't know what to say. She needed time to think, to figure out the best way to handle this man Maybe if she told him just enough, he would go away. But what would be enough? Would he start digging? And if he did, what would he find?
    "I need to take care of my father," she said. "Maybe tomorrow, if you want to stop by the bookstore, we can talk."
    "Why the change of heart?" He sent her a skeptical look.
    "You don't look like someone who gives up."
    "That's true." Tyler tipped his head toward the car. "Will your father be all right? I could follow