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Dune climbed into his topless, doorless, and fully restored 1973 Bermuda green Bronco. His car was his prized possession, and it rarely left the island. Hell, he rarely left the island. If he had business in the city, and he couldn’t take one of his boats there, he’d borrow his mom’s car or beg one of his brothers or friends to take him.
The Carters were a well-known family in Seaport. They owned Blue Lobster Adventures and Carter’s Diner, which not only catered to the tourists but had endless fun activities and good eats for the locals. It didn’t matter how many times Jenny-from-down-the-road took the whale-watching tour, she’d still do it every year without fail. She was just one example of how much everyone loved the Carters.
Dune pulled his Bronco into the family compound and veered right toward his tiny home. When it came time for him to move out, he didn’t want to. Not because he loved his parents or didn’t want to be away from his brothers, it was because nothing beat the view his childhood home had. Instead, he built his small house, which was far enough away from his parents to give him the privacy he needed, especially when he had an overnight guest, but close enough that if he wanted a home cooked meal, he wouldn’t have to drive anywhere for it.
The Carter house sat atop a sea grass knoll overlooking the water. The colonial style home, with its wide-planked wraparound porch, was the envy of the town. Each room had a view, but Pearl Carter’s favorite spot was the widow’s walk. She frequented the space often, mostly when an errant storm would arise, and her men were still out at sea.
Dune parked and then made his way inside his childhood home. Pearl greeted her son with a kiss on his cheek when he walked through the door. “Leave your sandy clothes outside,” she said after brushing her hands together. Not that it would matter; every day they would sweep piles of sand into the pail.
“Good morning to you too, Mom.” Dune tossed his sweatshirt and flip-flops outside and came into the kitchen. He went right to the frying pan on the stove and pilfered a piece of bacon, stuffing it into his mouth before his mom could see him.
“Where did you run off to this morning?”
“Second,” he said, referring to the nickname of the local beach. He could’ve easily gone down to their private beach, but he loved Second with its long shoreline, expansive beach, and tourists. Dune had a thing for tourists, or they had a thing for him. Their attraction was mutual, and it never failed that he'd meet one on the pier or lingering around Diego's. Visitors seemed to know that if they wanted to hook up with a local, Diego's was where they hung out. Most of the women he had encountered there, were there to "hang" with the local crowd. They were, after all, the best in town for a good time. “Are you spying on me?”
“Your truck is loud. I heard you leave.”
“Did I wake you?”
“No,” she told him. “Crew has taken up singing in the shower. He woke me.”
Dune coughed as he tried to hide a laugh. “Why’s he singing?”
Pearl shrugged. “I think he’s in love. Your dad won’t let me ask him.”
Crew was the youngest of Jack and Pearl’s four boys, with Dune being the oldest, followed by Tidal and Sail. Sure, they had some unusual names, but they were the only ones on the island with such names and had the faces and personalities to go with their unique monikers. Once you met the Carter boys, there was very little chance you’d forget them.
“Interesting.” Dune knew he could get the information out of his brother and would tease him relentlessly until he gave up the object of his affection. Crew hadn’t taken anyone to his prom, and no one lingered around him during his high school graduation party. Now that Dune knew this, he’d make it his mission to figure out who caught Crew’s eye.
“Leave him alone,” Pearl said when she went to the stove. She picked up two eggs, cracked them together, and let them fall into a skillet.
“What are you talking about?”
“You have steam coming out of your ears, which means you’re thinking of ways to torture my son.”
“I’m your son,” Dune pointed out.
“You know what I mean.”
“Is it because he’s the baby?” Dune couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his face. Even though his parents treated the boys equally, it was a known fact that the youngest Carter always had the tiniest bit more leeway than the others; his mother said it was to make up for his brothers’ relentless teasing when they were growing up.
Pearl ignored Dune and slapped his hand away when he went to steal another piece of bacon. “You can wait for breakfast.”
