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Royal smiled, flashing even white teeth. “Gone. It was itching me.” He rubbed his fingers over his chin and smiled widely. “Smoother than butter. Forgot what it feels like. And I woke up refreshed this morning—first time that’s happened in ages. Must’ve been all that fussing with Nate yesterday that wore me out.”
Kit stared, taking in the strong angles of his face and the bright, rested look of his eyes. He looked at least ten years younger. “You just . . . you look so different.”
“Well, hitch your jaw back together and stop your gaping.” He turned and walked down the hall, then paused, glanced back at her, and winked. “I’ve always been a handsome man.”
It took Kit and Royal ten minutes to fill three coolers with ice and pack each with soda cans, bottled water, and beer. She would’ve finished faster, but she couldn’t stop looking at Royal. The transformation—courtesy of a shave and lifted spirits—was remarkable.
Royal, Mackey, and Kit had just started hauling the coolers down the front steps when Beau, Nate, Cal, and Viv walked up the driveway. Beau noticed them first and hustled over to relieve Kit of the cooler she held.
“I’ll get that,” he said, smiling.
Kit smiled back, a giddy rush she hadn’t felt since her teenage years surging through her. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He hitched the cooler into one hand and reached for Mackey’s, too. “I’ll take that for you, Mackey.”
“Thank you.” Mackey handed it over, then jogged down the steps to Cal’s side and held up his hand for a high five from his new friend, who obliged him. “Ready to catch the shrimp?”
Cal nodded. “I’ve never been shrimping before.”
“Then you’re in for a real treat, son.” Royal offered a curt nod to Beau, then ambled down the steps and halt in front of Cal. “My boat’s called theSylvie Lee.” Sadness shadowed his smile. “After the most beautiful woman in the world.” He caught sight of Viv and held out his hand. “She looked a lot like this beautiful woman right here.”
Kit grinned. Viv looked as shocked as Kit had felt minutes earlier, when she’d first caught sight of Royal. “It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?”
Viv glanced up at her, surprised. “He looks so much younger.”
Royal laughed. “Well, ain’t you the one that snapped at me yesterday, telling me I wasn’t old yet?” He shrugged, his voice softening. “I just figured it was a new day.” He swept an arm toward the patch of blue sky that peeked between high, wispy gray clouds. “A new day with a dab of sunshine. Something we haven’t had much of the past couple of days.”
“And less to come,” Nate said, strolling over. “Forecast shows storms kicking up stronger. Morning report said there may be one headed this way in a day or two. Supposed to be somewhat of a gully washer.”
“Then that’s all the more reason to head on out and net up the shrimp now.” Royal gripped the cooler tighter in his hand and headed up the driveway toward the backyard, waving an arm in the air. “Y’all best come on. I’m gonna put you to work.”
Forty-five minutes later, they had all boarded theSylvie Leeand were well on their way out into the Atlantic. The wind picked up as Royal’s shrimp boat gained momentum. Clouds floated by more swiftly overhead, leaving patches of sharp morning sunlight in their wake, the bright rays sparkling in every direction, painting the water into a vast sea of gold silk that moved and rippled. A flock of sea-gulls and pelicans took flight above the lowered steel outriggers, flapping and squawking, excited about the day’s potential meal.
Royal stood inside the pilothouse, showing Mackey and Cal, who stood by his side, all the gizmos and gadgets he thought might interest them. Beau and Nate leaned on the gunwale on the starboard side, chatting quietly.
Kit, standing near the bow of the boat, tipped her head back and closed her eyes, soaking up the morning sun. Her cheeks warmed, and she breathed deep, filling her lungs with fresh ocean air, a hint of salt on her tongue.
“Been awhile, huh?”
Kit started, then glanced to her side. Viv stood beside her, watching her face, studying her expression. It was the second time since she’d returned home that Viv had actively sought her out.
Viv frowned. “What?”
Kit shook her head. “Nothing. I just . . . Someone else asked me that same question when I first arrived.”
“Who? Dad?” Viv asked, glancing at a pelican that perched on the port handrail, several feet away from the port outrigger.
“No.” Kit squinted at the sunlight bouncing off the water and recalled the day she’d returned to Hope Creek. Things had seemed so dismal then, so daunting. “Lou Ann Cragg.”
Viv made a small sound of irritation. “The Marshland Messiah? Last time I saw her, she was knocking some poor guy senseless at Lou’s Lagoon. That woman’s always in everybody’s business.”
“She listens to talk,” Kit agreed, “like everyone else. But she doesn’t always believe it.” She glanced over at Viv and smiled at the healthy pink glow the sun had coaxed to the surface of her sister’s pale cheeks. “She offered me a cigarette. It was the first one I’d had in years. It reminded me of Mama.”
Viv turned her head away, and her long hair, whipping in the wind, obscured her face.
“She remembered Mom,” Kit continued. “Said she remembered us running around as kids, too. In diapers, no less.” She hesitated, then asked, “Do you remember Lou Ann being around that far back? Do you remember if—”
“What are you doing, Kit?” Viv spun back around, her eyes, full of anger and pain, seeking Kit’s. “Trying to relive good memories? Reminisce about our oh so happy childhood full of laughter and fun?” She shook her head. “Cuz if you are, I’ll tell you right now, there are none. The earliest memory I have of Mom is when she threw a whiskey bottle at Dad’s head and accused him of try-ing to kill her.” Voice shaking, she drew in a heavy breath. “You and I were nine, curled up tight together under the kitchen table, too scared to move. How’s that for a memory?”
