Thomas could see from far off when Mike finally returned to the beach. He was swimming slowly, but not because of tiredness. He seemed to be thinking.
"Uncle Mike?" Thomas asked when Mike had returned to shore. Mike just shook his head and waved a hand to mean, ‘not now.’
"We’d better get you home, Thomas," he said, and ushered the boy into the boat. Then he said nothing more for the rest of the ride home.
Mike and Thomas returned home about a half-hour later. Nicole looked worried about Thomas when she saw he was soaked. He didn’t seem to be hurt, but somehow she knew there was something wrong.
“What happened?” she asked Mike. Thomas looked tired.
“Nothin’ that couldn’t be fixed,” Mike assured his sister without meeting her eyes. “He’ll be fine.”
“Mike, what happened?” she persisted.
“I went out too far,” Thomas explained.
“Are you alright?” Nicole asked.
“I’ll be fine,” Thomas replied. “Just need to get some sleep.” He turned and headed towards his bedroom.
Mike turned to leave, but Nicole stopped him. “What happened?” she asked.
“Just what I said,” Mike replied, still not meeting his sister’s eyes.
Nicole didn’t believe him. “Mike, tell me the truth, please.”
“It’s a long story, okay,” he told her. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Thomas is fine, he’s safe, what’s the matter?” With that he turned and left the room, effectively ending the converasation.
Once again, he stared out at the sea, once again thinking of Layla. Now that he knew why they couldn’t be together, he didn’t feel any better. Just lost.
Peter spotted him on the back deck of the Pad, looking out at the ocean. Mike didn’t say anything. He knew Peter would.
He sat down next to Mike and heaved a sigh, letting Mike know he was there, even though he knew he already was. But before he could say anything, Mike spoke up.
“I’m glad you’re here, Pete, I need to talk to you,” he said, turning to face him.
“What about?” Peter asked.
“I got a call this afternoon. Around four.”
“Oh?” Peter asked conversationly. Mike got phone calls all the time. It wasn’t a surprise.
“Yes. It was from a man that I’ve been talking to.” He paused and looked Peter in the eyes. “He wants to give us a contract.”
“A contract?” Peter repeated, not understanding. “You mean he has a club?”
“No, Pete, not that kind of contract,” Mike replied.
“You mean a-a,” Peter began. He didn’t continue, too afraid to speak the words for fear of what they might do. What if they weren’t true?
Mike nodded at him, and Peter gasped. “You can say it Pete,” he told him with a smile.
“A r-r-record contract?” Peter gasped. Mike nodded.
“He’s a friend of Mr. Olsheim’s, and he came to listen to us a few times,” Mike explained. “I knew about it, but didn’t want to tell you guys.”
“Understandably,” Peter replied. “Mike, this is-this is great! Do Micky and Davy know yet?” Mike shook his head. “Do you mind if…if I tell them?”
“Go ahead, Pete,” he replied grinning, and chuckled to himself slightly as Peter went running off. He sighed to himself. His career was starting to take off. But there was someone missing.
He glanced out at the ocean.
’It can’t happen,’ he told himself with a sigh, but he still missed her. Heaving another sigh, he stood up and headed into the house, away from the persistent glare of the ocean.
