Grace
It’s bearable with layers.
Her literal response made him wonder for the hundredth time if texts didn’t convey flirting, or if his attempts were worthless and weak, or if she deliberately ignored them.
Grace
We call at Kodiak tomorrow. Do you want a snail mail postcard?
I want you.
Sure.
How would she sign this one? Not “With Love” or “XOXO” if it tracked with the postcards pinned to his board. Week One: the Seattle Space Needle, “from Grace.” Week Two: a Washington State Ferry, “Take care, Grace.” Week Three: a pink-tinted Mount Rainier looming behind the Seattle skyline, “Keep at it! Grace.” When they started texting daily, the postcard frequency decreased. From “Thinking of you, Grace,” she’d moved to signing the last two with her initial crammed below the filled message space. He guessed she assumed that by now he’d know who “G” stood for. While that was more personal than “Take Care” or her full name, the distance from “G” to “Love” could be Denali.
Grace
How was the Marquis today?
He wouldn’t whine about the brutal table session or the core work. On the other side of the joint living room, Kade had a colostomy bag and half a dick. He felt lucky to be tall enough to piss standing, so no complaints.
Exchanged tips on tomato fertilizer.
Grace
You’re kidding.
You don’t think we talked shit all morning?
Grace
Palm to head.
That’s my line.
All his old material was useless these days, but Grace made him feel like he had so much to share.
Both day and nightshifts mingled on deck with a stash of microbrew to celebrate the end of the cruise. Grace’s bottle was half-empty as she leaned on the rail listening to co-workers compare big fish stories, but it was close to midnight in Rey’s time zone, so she slipped below deck.
By the time the first bars of “Call Me Maybe,” her custom alarm signal that played five minutes before their nightly calls, blared from her phone, she’d arrived at her berth.
Rey
Hi.
Weeks ago she’d stopped comparing him to the boyfriend who’d managed three calls last summer before dropping off her sonar faster than a Russian sub.
Hi back.
Final pollock count today.
Her text program wanted to capitalize it like the last name of the drip painter.
Great numbers—up 40%.
Rey
No squidding!
