But then the girl wiped away a loose tear with the heel of a fist and glared at Daria even stronger. “I know. I asked the shipping company for the full report. They had identified them based on your description.” She gave a bitter laugh. “He said that’s what makes your stupid story so believable because you could describe them so well, but you could’ve just made it up! You could’ve just picked random traits or picked sailors you knew of in town or…or…” She was really struggling now.
“Surely you know how ridiculous that sounds.”
Her head shot up in vehemence. “Not as ridiculous as you going out in that storm! If you’re that stupid, it should’ve been you. Why wasn’t it you?”
She broke then, and the tears came out hot and angry.
Daria wished there was something else to say, but there wasn’t. The girl wasn’t exactly wrong. It should’ve been her too, her first in fact. And if not for Kallias, she’d be at the bottom of the sea with them.
CHAPTER 68
Daria opened the door to the carpenter shop and Mr. Wilson was inside, standing at the counter and reading something—something relatively small, just larger than his hands, but she did not recognize it.
He looked up and his face instantly lit up upon seeing her. “Daria! What on earth are you doing here?” He smiled at her deviously, his green eyes twinkling. “Don’t tell me you’ve become so enthralled you left the lighthouse just for me.”
It was so obviously a joke, from his tone to his expression, that she couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, yes, you know how I’ve always dreamed of getting out of the lighthouse.”
He shook his head fondly and gestured to a stool on the side of the table opposite him. “Care to sit?”
She sat, placing her package on the counter and saying, “I brought you this,” just as he asked, “Would you like some tea?”
They both laughed again, and she couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt, how easy it might have been if she had never come to meet Kallias. There was none of the spark she had with Kallias, none of the desire, but the friendship was warm and calming, like lemon tea on a sunny day.
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
The room was both his shop and the first floor of his house, and the stove was behind him, off in the right corner. “It’s probably still a bit warm,” he said, opening the fire hatch and putting in a small log. Closing it, he slid the kettle to the burner. “So why are you here,MissDaria?” His voice was still all tease and he leaned against the table beside the stove, hands on its top like he was ready to leap into action at any second. “And what did you bring me?”
She pushed it toward him a bit and he came closer to stand across the counter from her. He nodded to it. “May I?”
She nodded back. “Of course. It’s for you.” And he started unwrapping it. “I asked the bakery for your favorite….” Her words died off as she watched his face. This was clearlynothis favorite. That absolute bitch. “Oh, no, Mr. Wilson, I’m so sorry. She said it was. I can go back.”
“Oh, no, no, of course that’s not necessary. Pumpernickel is fine.”
It was clearly more than a distaste; he was staring at it with that wary suspicion she had had when Kallias had once brought her back some sort of amorphous, gooey, squishy-looking thing and told her it was a fish. It was that mix of absolute disgust warring with the thoughts that it really couldn’t besobad and that for the sake of the gift giver, one bite couldn’t hurt.
“Don’t force yourself. I’ll get another,” she said, standing.And give that bitch a piece of my mind. Though she wouldn’t say that out loud.
“No, no, Daria,” Mr. Wilson said, urging her to sit back down. “No, it is the thought that counts. And I thank you immensely for it. I actually do have some of my favorite here.” He turned and grabbed something from the cupboard. “Plain bread is what I actually buy. I’m afraid I’m actually quite boring in this regard. Would you like to try?” He started slicing some before she even answered. “Butter?” he asked and she shook her head.
And then the kettle was singing and he was pouring the tea. He placed out the two cups and plates with bread before settling into the stool across from her, cup in hand. “So to what do I owe the honor of this visit? Don’t tell me you broke your boat again,” he joked. “Although honestly, if you did this soon, it probably would be a manufacturer’s error.” His smile fell. “Oh Lord, but there was a storm just yesterday, wasn’t there? Oh, tell me you didn’t have to go out.”
He looked so concerned for her despite her so clearly sitting here fine. It was sweet.
“As you can see, I’m fine, Mr. Wilson. But yes, I did have to go out yesterday.”
“Any survivors?”
“Yes, all of them.”
“Good work.”
“Well,” she laughed. “I only had to save one. The ship didn’t sink, but the dinghy had snapped off with him in it. He was wounded so I hadto tend to him.”
“Wounded how?”
“The mast had exploded when lightning struck. Lord knows whyhewas out on deck.” She seriously doubted he was one of the ones throwing their backs into saving the ship. But hey, maybe she was wrong and he had been telling the truth that she hadn’t seen the real him.
“That could have been quite the injury.”
