Blue Water: A Novel by A. Manette Ansay

By A. Manette Ansay

From big apple instances bestselling writer A. Manette Ansay comes an unforgettable tale of 2 households united through tragedy -- and one woman's deeply emotional trip towards a call she'd by no means inspiration attainable. On a regular morning in Fox Harbor, Wisconsin, Meg and Rex Van Dorn's lives are irrevocably altered whilst a under the influence of alcohol driving force -- Meg's onetime ally, Cindy Ann Kreisler -- slams into the Van Dorns' vehicle, killing their six-year-old son, Evan. As Meg recovers from her personal accidents, she and Rex are stunned while Cindy Ann gets a trifling slap at the wrist. of their rage and grief, they purchase a ship to sail all over the world, hoping to place as a lot distance as attainable among themselves and Cindy Ann. but if Meg returns to Fox Harbor for a kinfolk marriage ceremony, she's pressured to stand the complicated ties that bind her to the girl who has destroyed her peace.

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M A N ET TE A NSAY cline. It was as if we’d stumbled upon a strange, magical kingdom, a place where down was up and up was down, where the ground flexed and trembled while the sky appeared solid, fixed. Even our vocabulary changed. ) Down the stairs (companionway), there was a kitchen (galley); a toilet (head); a main room (salon). We didn’t sleep in a bed, but rather, in a berth, which was located in a stateroom. “It’s like a foreign language,” I said. “Don’t sweat it,” Rex said. ” “A seasoned sailor, matey,” he said, giving me a fierce pirate scowl.

You think I don’t wake up every single day and think about how awful it is? ” I spat the word from my mouth, and then I told him what I’d told no one else: how I’d sat in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot, hands gripping the wheel, waiting for Cindy Ann and her ice cream. ” “I would feel sorry, Cowboy,” he said. ” I turned, walked out the door. Hurrying past the front window, I caught a glimpse of him standing between the tanks: one side of his face stricken as my own, the other half lost in darkness.

I thought of our claw-footed tub back home, the master bath shower with its twin showerheads, the stack of soft towels in the closet. I imagined slipping into my good silk nightgown, walking barefoot through the house and out onto the lawn. The cool evening dew B lu e Wa t e r ~ 29 against my sun-toughened feet. Evan and Rex filling jars with fireflies. Perhaps that very evening, Toby would stop by—without Mallory, as he sometimes did—to sneak a forbidden hamburger, watch a little TV. All of it seemed unreal to me now, like something I had dreamed.

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