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I think about that family I saw unloading their Honda Odyssey back in South Port. My heart twists again, same as it did then. Only this time the twist hurts.
I want so badly to introduce Dad to the guy of my dreams, to call him with the news that I’m engaged, I’m pregnant, I bought a house. And now that I know Dad’s time may be limited...
A fresh round of tears.Do not go there.
I don’t. Instead, I take a deep breath, wipe my eyes, and order some food with Dad.
When it comes, I pretend to nonchalantly dig into my sweet potato hash. “All right, Dad. Let’s come up with a plan for beating this thing. I may not be able to find a soulmate between now and then, but I can design T-shirts and provide an extra bedroom for any hospital stays you have in Wilmington. Lady’s always welcome too.”
two
. . .
Abel
Dukes Up
I walkonto the dock with a black eye and a bad feeling in my stomach.
Joe’s boat bobs innocently enough in its slip at the edge of Harbour Village Marina. A pirate flag flaps proudly from its mast, letting me know Joe is indeed onboard.
The Jolly Rogeris old, older than I am, but you wouldn’t know it from the proud gleam of the spotless hull. Shiny new buoys hang over the boat’s side. They match the new paint job and rigging.
Joe takes good care of everything in his life. I’m proof of that.
He doesn’t ever—ever—ask me to meet him here. Much less on a Saturday afternoon. I see him often enough. But it’s usually for Sunday supper at his place, or cold beers at Stede’s, the restaurant across the way. So when he called me yesterday and said he wanted to talk, I had a feeling something was up.
The sun glints off the calm surface of the ocean, makingme squint despite the sunglasses I’m wearing. My eye throbs. Nothing I didn’t deserve.
“Hello?” I call, the boat dipping as I step onboard. The sun is warm on my shoulders and back.
But that’s not why I start to sweat.
That, I blame on the memory of Jen, the leggy blonde I was with last time I was aboard. Tuesday last, when Joe took us for a sunset cruise because Maren was dying to get out of the house.
I vividly remember Jen emerging from below deck, beer in hand. She was wearing a pretty pink sundress. Barefoot. Bangs that were new and,wow, looked fucking great on her.
She aimed a wide, white smile at me. I couldn’t breathe for a full minute. I hate that she still affects me that way. I fell hard for her when I was twenty-two—happened the summer she was home from her sophomore year of college and we spent a lot of time together talking about art and visiting museums within driving distance—and I still haven’t recovered at thirty-four.
Jen hadn’t missed a beat. She’d gone up on her toes and wrapped me in a hug. “Abel! Hi! I didn’t know you were coming. I’m so glad to see you.”
I was a boy, all animal, before Joe made me a man. One who admittedly still has some animal in him.
By sheer force of will, I remained that man—kind, controlled—as Jennifer Lynn Monroe melted her body against mine. A miracle, considering how soft she was. How good she smelled, like jasmine on a summer night.
The scent is pretty.
Jen’s always been pretty. A cross I’ve had to bear. One of many. Felt especially heavy at the moment.
“Good to see you too.” I carefully hugged her back. A lame, loose hug that saidwe’re familyand notI’ve dreamed about kissing you since I was twenty-two.I try not to flirt withher. I try very hard. I hope I succeed, most of the time anyway.
The memory evaporates asThe Jolly Rogerlifts on a wave. Falls back down. The memory itself is gone, but the warmth it leaves inside my skin stays put.
This time it’s Joe who emerges from below deck, a pair of beers in his hand. “Hello there! Thanks for coming out.”
“Hey, Joe.” Taking the beer, I look at him. Unease swims inside my gut when he frowns at me.
“What’s that?” He motions with his beer to my eye.
