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“Nothing. It means nothing. Oh, look, it’s the crab boat. They’ve got more than last year.” He points out over the water.
Another vessel has arrived. It’s flat-bottomed and filled with characters outlined with light. One is a mermaid, and she is surrounded by crabs.
“We’ve come full circle,” Tillie says. “The mermaid sunrise and the reason we met.”
“It’ll be months before the crabs are breeding again, and that’s twice you’ve brought up reproduction in the last five minutes,” I say.
“What’s reproduction?” Violetta asks.
“And ... time to move the child. Mom has dessert.” Mendo steers Violetta to the table where the food is laid out.
The boats come faster, the next with a lighted tree so tall it rivals the one in the bay. It’s quickly followed by another with a loudspeaker system, the entire hull covered in lights that blink in time with the music.
“Have you given any thought to what we talked about for the Georgia trip?” Tillie asks.
I rest my chin on her shoulder. We’re heading to Atlanta to celebrate a late Christmas with her brother and sisters. Tillie wants me to reach out to Anita and have coffee again.
“Are you going to visit your dad?” I ask.
“Unfair question. That’s a three-hour drive. I have to see how it fits in.”
“I think if I visit Anita, you should at least consider going to see him.”
She’s quiet and I know she’s thinking about the old house, walking in it again, and maybe her father not even talking to her. The sisters occasionally try. Ensley and Tillie made a pilgrimage a couple of years ago in hopes of getting him to meet his first grandchild, but he didn’t so much as open the door. They’re not sure he ever saw the wedding invitation they sent.
It’s asking a lot for her to try again.
“Okay,” she says. “But you’re going with me.”
“Deal.” She went with me to see Anita the first time. It’s only fair.
Plus, I want to know where she grew up, what spaces she filled. I’ve known Tillie for half a year, but there is so much still to discover. Her hometown will be a great next step.
The boats motor around the bay in their bright glory. Mom texts me. She’s hanging out with her friends tonight.Did you see the crab one? Make Mendo do it next year!
“Yo, Mendo, my mom agrees you have to do up the boat next year. We could split the cost.”
He turns. “What would you need a big generator for?”
“I don’t know!”
But then it all hits me in one flash of insight. Another hut. A new bar. One I control. Not rented. Bigger, maybe a repurposed shack.
I remember something else. On the beach near the restaurant where I took Tillie for our first brunch, there’s a house, tucked in underbrush. It’s been for sale for a while, because it’s tiny and nobody wants to live that close to public parking.
But if I could buy it and get it rezoned as commercial ... my head starts spinning and I miss the last few boats.
The fireworks that end the parade bring me out of my thoughts. Tillie squeezes my leg. “You’re lost in thought.”
“I am.”
“Anything good?”
I see the years ahead finally, bright and clear. Converting the house to a hut. Opening one side to the ocean. Building a wooden deck that connects to the beach.
And Tillie working with me.
I have to stop myself from starting right then, asking Mom to mention it to her Realtor friend. Calling the permit office.
