AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Would you be married?”
“Of course I would!” She looks at me like I’ve grown another head. “I’d have to be married before I had kids.”
I know I shouldn’t ask the next question, but the curiosity has been killing me. “And your virginity. Are you saving that for your husband?”
A lovely flush rises in her cheeks. She shakes her head. “No. Not exactly. He wouldn’t have to be my husband, necessarily, but I’m not just going to give it away. He’d have to mean something to me, and I haven’t met anyone like that.”
“Makes sense,” I say. “And these potential kids of yours. Would you want to stay home with them?”
“Oh! Gosh yes. I hate how women argue with one another over working or staying home. I think a mom can be a great mom either way if she loves her kids and tries her best.” Her eyes rise to meet mine. “But same as you, I’d have a hard time letting them out of my sight. I’d want to spend every minute with them.”
“I’d want the same for my kids. Mom at home. Dad engaged, protective, providing.”
“Wow!” A sunny smile breaks out over her face.
“What?” I tip my glass, finishing my tea. She lifts the pitcher, filling it back up without me even asking.
She sets the pitcher back down. “We finally agreed on something! We have more in common that I thought.”
“And how much did you think we had in common?”
“Absolutely nothing. Though I am starting to understand your ways a bit better. I’d do whatever it took to protect my family as well.” She stares down at her empty plate. “I’ve done as much for friends. I can make the black-and-white lines of law turn gray when I need to.”
A dark cloud comes over her.
I want to ask what she means, what’s happened in her past that put that frown on her pretty face. I can sense she doesn’t want me to press. Sure enough, I’m right and she’s up and clearing the dishes before I can ask.
She won’t let me help, telling me, “You cooked, I’ll clean up. Besides, the glasses have spots when you do them. You have to polish them to dry them.”
I leave her, not to get out of the work, but to give her some space. I sense she needs a little after the memories we dredged up in our dinner conversation.
I go for a shower, scrubbing my scalp, thinking of how different this girl is than I first thought. I guess I judged her, before I got to know her, as just a know-it-all outsider from Orange County USA, here to change our ways that are rooted in history.
We should be able to fish our waters, raise our children, and settle our debts our own ways. We Baynes have been living on these lands since the arrival of our Viking ancestors in the ninth century and we’re not planning on going anywhere. And our puffins are doing just fine, thank ye very much.
The Baynes worked the land and owned horses. The Burneses fished the seas. We were the farmers, they were the fishermen. Things were peaceful between the clans.
North Sea cod stocks were once plentiful but plummeted, leading to a near collapse in 2006.
A “cod recovery plan” sought to restore stocks to sustainable levels by limiting fishing days, decommissioning boats, banning catches in nursery areas. The Burneses were happy to do their part, putting larger holes in nets to allow young cod to escape.
From there, things got out of hand. More outsiders became interested in our island, telling us the best way to manage it. Other regulations came into place, more protected areas, and limits on other high-yielding types of fish tightened.
The Burneses had no choice but to find other avenues of income.
Our families were once at odds, an old grievance over the ownership of a fertile slice of farmland, but ten years ago, after my father died, both sets of men rallied around me with their support. I used the money I inherited from my father’s life insurance to buy the Gothic cathedral, a place we could come together to establish our power on the island. Got a grant to renovate it. I was eighteen. Eamon was ten. Every man on the island helped me keep an eye on that boy.
My father’s death brought us together, united in our cause.
Eamon’s my blood brother, but the rest of the Kings I call my brothers as well. We’re all united in our love for the island, willing to do anything to take it back. And we don’t need any research analysts around.
After one blowup that led to Kitt trying to give me a lecture on saving an island she’s been on for less than a handful of weeks and me storming out for our evening walk solo, we’ve managed to keep the cod out of our conversations for the past week, both of us trying to keep some semblance of peace between us.
I was surprised by how much we have in common when it comes to family though. I could picture her with child, a beautiful smile on her face, a hand on her growing belly.
My baby.
“What the hell are you doing, Bayne?” I scrub my skin raw, furious at my ridiculous thoughts and the fact that I’m now talking to myself out loud, picking up her habits. Next thing you know I’ll be reading books and baking damn cookies.
