The old wood-paneled station wagon rolled into the parking lot, into a spot directly overlooking the broad sandy shore. He didn't know why they had come today, but she had wanted to come and his father always obeyed her every wish. Especially these last few months.
The wind blew strong, kicking up torrents of sand that pecked at his flesh as he got out of the car. He watched his father help her out of the front seat into this sandstorm and was angry. He was always angry lately, but this really curdled his blood.
Already she was terribly sick and still his mother insisted on going on a family trip to the beach. Her eyes sunken, bruised, her waif-like body barely strong enough to stand up to the wind as she leaned heavily into his father's side.
It made him angry that his father hadn't forced her to stay home. It made him angry that Liz had been as light-hearted as ever, as if she didn't see, didn't understand what was going on. He was only fourteen, but he knew, he understood she was dying. Why didn't Liz? Or did she even care?
He followed his family begrudgingly, kicking at the sand as he walked, glaring at his feet. He watched his father set up the metal beach chair with the woven plastic seat. Her body drooped into the chair as she caught her breath from the short walk they took. For one moment her face showed the depth of her fatigue, the pain she had been suffering the past several months. Her fair hair was wrapped up in a blue scarf.
He looked away, gritting his teeth against the emotion he'd been fighting with for just as long. He looked back when he could face it, and his mother's face was relaxed again, mouth in a soft beaming smile as she watched her carefree daughter running through the waves. Her eyes turned their warmth over to him and her head cocked in a look of bemused sadness.
"Lucas," she said with a sigh, a shake of her head as she reached out a hand out towards him. He took it and she surprised him by being strong enough to pull him down to his knees before her. Like she was a Queen demanding due respect. Or maybe it was just that he had let her.
"Please," she said, a soft plea. "I know you're mad at me. I know you think I'm crazy. But I just want this one day. One day, where we are the family we use to be. Before all of this darkness. One day where I can see my children happy and I can forget about illness and chemo."
He looked down at the sandy ground, stubborn but also unable to resist that spell she used on his father. That made him angry most of all.
"If you were home, you could be resting. Then you could get better," he said. "Then we could have all the days you want."
"Oh, Lucas," she murmured as she laid her thin pale hand on his cheek, "I'm trying, I've been trying so hard. But honey, I don't think it's enough."
His eyes burned as his mouth tightened further into a powerful scowl as he continued to stare at the sand.
"I know," she whispered, "it's going to be hard. For you, for your father, but especially your sister."
"Liz? Look at her? She could careless," Luke said angrily as he glanced over at his sister playing in the waves.
"Luke, she may be flying through her happy cloud now, that's how she copes with sadness; but when she falls, she's going to fall hard and she's going to need someone to catch her. Promise me you'll watch over your sister, please. Lucas?"
Luke looked into her eyes and nodded, "Of course I will."
She smiled, her hand still on his cheek, and her thumb rubbing at his jaw line.
"And your Dad, " she whispered as she glanced at her husband standing further way, staring into the ocean. The wind keeping her words from carrying, she continued, "Be patient with him. I know he can get in his own head, but he loves you both and he will do what's best for you. Just give him time."
Luke nodded and felt her hand leave his cheek.
"Now, go enjoy the water. Give me a good memory," she said. Luke stood and looked over at the sea. He walked along the beach, towards the pier, wondering how he could possibly forget his problems and do as his mother wished.
He leaned against the rail, quickly swiping at his eyes. The steady tears that he couldn't hold back anymore. He brushed angrily with his forearm and hugged himself against the wind. He should have listened when he was told to bring a coat, but it was too late now. And he didn't mind really.
The wind dried his face as he stood there. He heard feet running and a head of dark curls appeared beside him. The wind tossed her hair around her head.
"Have you seen any mermaids?" the girl asked excitedly. Luke looked her over, she was just a kid, not even Liz's age.
"How old are you? There are no such things as mermaids," he said.
"So people say. But one of these days, I'm gonna see one," she said with a sparkle in her blue eyes. He shook his and looked away.
"Lorelai Gilmore!" called a sharp voice, "is that how a lady behaves?"
Luke turned and watched as the girl guiltily turned around and smoothed her very expensive sundress.
"You do not run around like a hooligan. Now come back here. I swear this is the last time I get recommendations from the Halpert's. The facilities are terrible and this beach is dirty, they'll let just anyone in here."
The girl walked back to this severe woman, who stood beside a tall man oblivious to whatever was going on with his family. The three walked away with the woman still complaining about the beach.
Luke looked back at the ocean and put them out of his head. In the distance, he saw the spout of a whale on the horizon. He stood up and turned to run, he knew this would be something his mother would want to see. He ran back along the beach, hoping this would be a good memory for his mother.
