“Yikes,” he grunts, grimacing at it. “Fight a bear?”
I snort, then type out my reply:
“Shit. I’d probably just stick with the bear story,” he teases, chuckling as he slides me my drink.
From a few stools down, I notice Gannett glowering at the interaction between the bartender and I, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s jealous. Certainly appears it, anyway, but now that I have his attention, I see my in—despite Marcus also clearly glowering, but his ire is directed at me. I pick up my drink and stroll down to the empty stool on the other side of Gannett, settling in there. I clear the last message from my phone and type up a new one. Then, I show Gannett the screen, asking if he has a job opening he’s hoping to fill.
“Actually, I do,” he replies. “Why, you lookin’?”
I nod.
“You know anything about lobster fishing?”
I shake my head.
“Do you speak?”
I shake my head again, pulling down my collar to show him my scar too.
“Oh, shit!” He winces. “Thefuck happened?”
“He fought a bear,” the bartender snarks, winking at me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Marcus shift uncomfortably on his stool, his eyes narrowing on the bartender. I start typing out another message, hoping to relay to Gannett that I’m a quick learner and a hard worker, when suddenly Marcus stops me. “Just say what you want to say, and I’ll interpret for you…”
My brows knit.
“Oh come on, just accept a kind gesture,” he snips, rolling his eyes.
I sigh dramatically, then sign, “I don’t know anything about lobster fishing, but I am a quick learner and I don’t shy away from hard work. I do know quite a bit about mechanics, if that helps at all.”
Gannett nods after listening to Marcus. “I think I could work with that. Do you think you could handle the early mornings? Also, do you get seasick? I swear to Christ, I don’t do puke. Even listening to someone retch gives me sympathy-nausea.”
I begin to sign quickly, “I can do mornings easily. My son is old enough now that he can get himself up and ready for his day without me hovering. As for seasickness? No. No issues there.”
To his credit, Marcus repeats everything word for word, interpreting like a pro. The thought of that suddenly niggles at me because there were more than a few times during my date with Lauren that I wondered if perhaps her mystery husband was Mr. Deeply-Closeted himself.
What the hell would the odds of that be though?
Well, it’s looking a lot more plausible as the minutes pass, I’ll tell you what…
Gannett looks like he's pondering that over for a second when the older gentleman from down at the docks—Wagner, I guess—pipes up, “You’re seriously going to sit there and stew on that, son? How long have you been whining about having no help on your boat? Sittingaround waiting for Evan to come back is pretty useless at this point, don’t you think?”
“Christ's sakes,yes, Dad!” he grumbles. “Give me a goddamn minute, would ya?! I'm working out the human resources logistics of it in my head because I just hired this other guy too!” He flaps his hand, gesturing at Marcus.
And, I’m sorry—he what?
If Gannett hires me, I’d be working right alongside Marcus?! Fuck my life entirely. That asshatknewI was trying to ask Gannett for a job, and he went ahead and offered to interpret for me? What the actual fuck?!
I start signing furiously, thanking Gannett for his time, but that I can’t accept a job from him after all. Backing out of the whole deal entirely before it was well and truly offered. Gannett is wide-eyed, trying to figure out what I’m blathering on about, when finally, Marcus stops me again.
Speaking over me, he says, “Caleb, listen. Juststop, alright? I’m trying to make things up to you here, so don’tnottake the job because of me. If anything, and Gannett only wants one of us, it should be you. I have a job right now… even though I don’t particularly care for it.”
“Wait, wait—” Gannett cuts Marcus off. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t it be agoodthing if I hired you both? I know I’m not a stellar model of intellectualism, but, like, wouldn’t communication be easier if I just friggin’ offered you two the job? Idoneed more than one guy, I just wasn't planning on securing two new crewmen on the same day.”
I puff out a breath, searching the ceiling for the right answer to that question, as if it’ll magically appear there. Yes, Marcus can interpret for me. No, I do not like that option though. But one thing is for certain: I need reliable income.
Fuckin’ wonderful.
