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“Wait,so what’s this stop for?” She demanded as we pulled in outside my cousin Jake’s house. Jake fished too, but he also ran the local print shop and made all the local jerseys and team swag.
“Gotta pick up the football jerseys.”
“Because…you coach high school football.”
“Stop acting so surprised.”
Her giggle was infectious, and I bit my tongue to keep from grinning like a moron. She’d made me repeat myself a dozen times when my position came up during a story on our mountain.
“Who coaches when you’re gone?”
“Broderick.”
“And ifhe’sgone?” Broderick was getting ready to leave for a conference in Nevada, and I was kinda pleased she’d noted it. Was obviously comfortable with my friends.
“Anthony, the history teacher, subs on the rare occasion both of us are out of town.”
“Wow.”
Shaking my head, I leaned for the door, hopping out of the truck, and making a beeline for Jake’s garage. He was already expecting us, so by the second knock, he’d flung the door open, arms wide for a hug. Jake and Charlie both had sandy blonde hair, but the same steel-blue eyes as our dads. His complexion leaned more towards olive than ours, which we’d always been a bit jealous of. I hugged him back before turning and introducing him to Noel.
“Wow, it’s nice to finally meet you. Glad James didn’t make you up.”
“Flesh and blood, I’m afraid,” she said, grinning as she rocked on her heels with anxiety.
“Well, I’m sorry to say I only have a few minutes, and then I gotta head out for boat prep, just like James.”
“You’re on theRhodes Awaytoo?”
Jake and I chuckled, exchanging knowing glances. “Uh, for all our sakes, it’s best if we keep family and business separate. Uncle Milo and I don’t always communicate well.” That was an understatement. They loved each other to death on solid land but might beat each other to death at sea. It was the weirdest paradox, deeply rooted in a clash of dominant egos.
“Fair enough,” she said, smiling. No questions asked.
“You gonna swing by and see Sterling and Junebug?” I asked. Jake was the coolest uncle on the planet—Charlie’s kids told me all the time. They were five and nine, and loved very few things more than their time at the beach with their uncles or sneaky ride-alongs in their dad’s cruiser.
“We did breakfast this morning.”
“Good,” I said, nodding. “I’ll get my hugs before we head out.”
“Good luck this run.”
“You too, man.”
Jake slid over three enormous boxes. Noel and I hefted out the first two, but as icy rain was pelting down, I insisted she stay warm and cozy inside the truck cab. When I made it back to him, he gave me a long whistle.
“Damn. You weren’t exaggerating. She’s a looker.”
“A fucking siren is what she is.”
“She doing okay? Charlie told me about Friday night.”
“Yeah,” I said, realizing through all our chats on our hike and on the mountaintop, she hadn’t said shit about Eric and what went down at the Birch Barrel. I selfishly hadn’t wanted to darken our day by bringing it up. “She’ll be alright. Better once we can get this fucker out of her life.”
“He’ll do everything he can, you know?”
“Yeah. I do.” Charlie was a damn good man, and a damn good cop, to boot. There’s a sentence I’d never thought I’d say. But if anybody deserved to shine their Sheriff’s badge, it was Charlie Rhodes. If anybody could come up with a solution to keep her safe and push it through court, it was him. We hugged before I snatched the last box and headed back for the truck.
Our next stop was the supply store, grabbing groceries and a few tools for me to pack back onto the boat. Noel insisted on coming with me, since she worked on the harbor anyway. It wasn’t until I was dropping her off at Grizzly Grind that I realized I might not see her again before I left, and my stomach took a bloody nosedive. I’d never wanted to bail on a season as much as I did now. Maybe Rhyett was right. Because the idea of having to reenact walking her up to the door and holding her against my chest, trying to memorize the feel of her body against mine and the scent of her hair, like I could take a part of her with me onto the water, was terrifying. How had Dad done it all those years?
