Page 62 of The Sailor

“No. Eliot and Jonah brought the traps to their place. We’ll swap them out this winter. We’ve got about a third of the pots in the water that we do in the summer, so we’ll work on this batch, then switch them with the ones that are currently on the bottom of the ocean. We also have to repaint some of the buoys.”

“Tedious work,” Zach commented.

He wasn’t wrong. “Yeah. But necessary. What about you? You mentioned yesterday the delivery business is going okay?”

“Uh-huh. Slower than I’d like though. My main issue is getting word out about the weekly specials. I’ve been using social media, but not everyone is online all the time. I have a newsletter list, but it seems that only about forty percent of the people who signed up for updates even open the emails. And even if I put a big sign outside the shack, only the people who happen to drive by will see it. It’s frustrating.”

“You have a phone number for The Lobster Buoy, right?” Marit asked.

“Of course. It’s how people call in to order. They can also submit an order online.”

“What if you put a recording on the phone? Like, push one to hear the weekly specials, push two to place an order . . . that kind of thing. That way, you can print flyers and stuff with the phone number on it and tell people to call to hear the special of the week . . . making sure they know it will always involve lobster in some way. Or you can set up an automatic message, where people can get texts with the specials. A lot of people would probably prefer that option.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“I know back in the old days, the eighties, that’s how people found out the movie schedules. They’d have to call and listen to the recording for the times of each show. Did you know there was even a number people could call to get the time and temperature? It seems crazy today, but that’s how it was back then.”

Zach chuckled. “You make it sound as if it was a million years ago.”

“It feels like it was. Oh, what about an app?” Marit asked.

“An app?”

“Yeah! Everyone has one these days. You can hire someone to keep it updated. Maybe the girl you’re using to update social media. Or you can see if you can find someone from one of the universities in the area. Aren’t they always looking for internships or something?”

“Maybe. What would this app do though?”

“Well, it wouldn’t actually do anything. It’s not like it’s a game. It would be for information. But wait . . . what if it was a game? Or at least a section of it was? One part could be for pictures of the dishes you’ve created, another for the weekly special, hours of operation, where you’re located, things like that. Then another part could be a lobster trap game! Something simple but entertaining. People would have to click on lobsters swimming in the ocean, or click on a lobster and drag it into a pot . . . I don’t know. But it might be a way to get people to download the app and keep them on it.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start with something like that,” he admitted.

“Me either, but you know everyone, Zach. Someone around here has to know someone else who can help you.”

Zach was splitting his attention between her and the road. And he was smiling like a goof.

“What?” Marit demanded. “We’re brainstorming here.”

“I know. And you’re very good at it. I’m just wondering how in the hell I got so lucky to have you in my corner.”

“It’s one thing to come up with ideas. It’s another to actually get them implemented,” Marit couldn’t help but caution.

“I understand that. But they’re very good ideas. Changing the subject here . . . Are you sure you wouldn’t rather hang out at your place today? It’s cold outside, and it’s not exactly going to be fun lugging Chad and Britt’s stuff to their new place. Not to mention the fights that will most certainly break out when we start putting together the baby’s furniture.”

Marit smiled. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you and your family. They’re awesome . . . even if you guys all fight over who gets to do what in regards to that baby and his or her furniture. I still can’t believe they already have practically everything they need for the baby’s room.”

“Are you kidding? That was the first thing my mom did. I swear, she’s been preparing for grandkids for years. She probably had that furniture bookmarked on her computer, or already in her cart, and the second she heard Britt and Chad say they were pregnant, she just went in and clicked on the purchase button.”

Marit giggled. She could definitely see Evelyn doing something like that. She was so excited for spring and the arrival of her first grandchild. “Harper said she was going to come over with Kash for a bit today. She has the evening shift at work but said she has some time this morning to come help. How are things going with her and Linc?”

“No clue. He doesn’t talk about her, and it’s not as if I’m texting Harper every day like you and Britt,” Zach said in a teasing tone.

“I like them. I really do. I know Harper was . . . difficult when she was a kid, but I’m guessing she’s nothing like she used to be back then. Life has a way of kicking you in the teeth, then stomping on you to make sure you stay down.”

Zach frowned. “Do you really feel that way?”

Marit thought about his question for a second, then shrugged. “I used to. I mean, with everything I’d been through with my family. Moving all the way to Maine and struggling to find a job when I first arrived. Then finding lobstering, and not being welcomed by some of the people I worked with day in and day out. It was a lot.”

“And now?”