“I’m just visiting for a few days,” I say, knowing I need to ask him the same thing but considering skipping it. Then the wordkarmaflashes across my brain again. “You?” I manage to squeak out.
“I’m headed to visit my son and his family for Christmas,” he answers proudly. “I fly out and stay a few weeks for Christmas every year.”
His answer makes me wish I had taken the bitchy way out and not asked, but it’s not his fault that part of the reason I despise this season so much is because I have no family to spend it with. I’ve considered getting a pet, but I always work so many hours that I know it wouldn’t be fair to the poor, innocent creature that was unlucky enough to come home with me.
“That’s nice.” I muster up a smile—or as close to one as I can possibly offer. “Well, I hope you have a wonderful holiday.”
I start to reach for my headphones, but his voice stops me.
“What part of Maine are you headed to?” he blurts out, still looking at me politely, even though I’m doing everything in my power to end this conversation. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Holiday Harbor,” I mumble because even the name of the damn town is annoying. Not as annoying as another Maine place I saw that was called Christmas Cove, but still … irritating nonetheless.
“Well, I’ll be. My family lives just the next town over.” He chuckles. “Small world, I guess.”
“Sure is,” I say, attempting to flash him a smile because he seems like a nice enough man, and I feel a little guilty that this season and being in the air have me on edge so much that I don’t even want to talk to him. “I hope you enjoy your Christmas with your family.”
“Thank you.” He pauses. “I hope you have a good trip and enjoy seeing Maine. I don’t know if you’ve ever been there, but it’s … it’s truly one of a kind. It’s one of those places that really sticks with you, you know?”
I don’t know what he means, but I’m not going to tell him that. So, instead, I just smile, nod, and put my headphones back on. I press play on my phone, but as the documentary begins to start up again on the screen, his words keep repeating over and over again in my head.
“It’s one of those places that really sticks with you.”
I’ve bounced around between so many places, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt like anywhere stuck with me. At least not in a positive way.
North Dakota stuck with me because that was where I was taken from my parents. Granted, it wasn’t a safe environment, but still, being taken out of the only home you’ve ever known?Yeah, that’ll stick with you. A few hours south of where I grew up, still in North Dakota, was where I went into the foster care system for the first time and figured out that I might have been better off with my parents. Even though they were addicts, they’d at least ignored me. Ohio was where I learned my mom and dad were both dead. Virginia was where one of my foster fathers came on to me when I was fifteen, forcing me to kick him in the nuts, and where I was slapped across the face from his wife because she said I’d led him on. New Jersey was where I became emancipated and moved into a small, crappy apartment. But New Jersey was also where I received a scholarship to college in New York, so I guess that’s the one positive from all of the places I’ve been.
I moved to New York ten years ago, when I was eighteen. And now, I’ve become accustomed to the honking horns, fast-paced days, and lively nights. It really is the city that never sleeps, and that means it’s always busy, and nothing is ever quiet. And as long as everything around me remains busy and there’s noise, I don’t have to stop and think about the past. I can just bury myself in work and think about the future I want.
And the first step in my future is arriving in Maine and convincing these fishermen to sell Ironbound Developments their property. If I can do that, I’ll surely move up the ladder. And the faster I move up the ladder, the more my name gets out there, the more money I save, and the closer I am to starting my very own company.
It’s all going to happen, thanks to these fishermen.
Maine is everything that I expected it to be. At least, so far, the hour I’ve spent in my rental car, driving from the airport toward this so-called promised land, has proven that it is. Trees.A whole lot of trees.And cars with people who enjoy driving slowly, like they are all on a Sunday drive even though it’s Thursday afternoon and they should be all ready to get home from work. But if that’s the case, they’ve got a weird way of showing it.
I’ve passed through a few small towns, and I haven’t heard a single honking horn. No one is yelling a slew of choice words out their car window, and everything seems weirdly calm. I suppose I can see the appeal when people come here to escape. Especially if you enjoy the whole … great outdoors thing, but this isn’t my cup of tea. I like busy. And the horns? They comfort me.
They are sure better than quiet.
I glance at the screen and see I only have about five minutes left of driving until I arrive at the small house the company rented for me to stay in. I looked at the pictures briefly. It’s right on the ocean, and it sits on land that borders the hundreds of acres Ironbound is trying to acquire. Which means the fishermen won’t be able to escape me. I’ll berightup their asses.
I think back to watching the man who had sat next to me on the plane be greeted by his family when he walked into the airport after we landed. His son, daughter-in-law, and their three kids all looked ecstatic that they had his company for the holidays.
I should have been nicer to him.
He was obviously a stand-up guy. And yet all I could do was answer just enough of his questions so that he’d leave me alone.
Google Maps tells me to turn right in five hundred feet on Shore’s Edge Drive. I narrow my eyes, taking in the row of mailboxes ahead, realizing that’s exactly where I’ll be turning.
When I reach the driveway, I slowly turn, glancing down the road and taking in the huge sign with a picture of a lobster at the top. Squinting, I read the lettering.
“Adams Lobster Co.” I whisper the name, knowing it’s the family whose land I’m here to make an offer on. “Found you.”
I’m not going over there today though. No, today has been long enough, and all I want to do is drop my stuff off, make sure the house is clean enough to stay in and not crawling with mice or spiders or whatever else Maine may be full of, and then find the nearest grocery store and stock up on everything I’ll need for the week.
Tomorrow. Yep, that’s when I’ll have to plaster on my sweetest smile and charm the hell out of these fishermen. But I also know that some of these fishermen could have wives or girlfriends, and that may throw a curveball in the whole thing—because we all know who the shrewd ones really are.
See, men are pretty easy to figure out. Women? Not so much.
