Page 17 of A Wedding in the Bay

What can I say to him? she mused as she began to cream ingredients together with her electric mixer. I feel rude not talking to him, although he seems to be fine with it.

She glanced at him and saw that he was gazing out the window with a slight smile on his face, holding his mug in both hands. He seemed to sense her looking at him and turned in her direction.

“What? I don’t smell like fish again, do I?” he teased.

She groaned, covering her face with her hands, and he let out a big booming laugh. “Everett, I am so sorry. I really put my foot in my mouth the other night. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry if I offended you at all.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. I have a thick skin.”

“Well, I’m glad you weren’t offended, but I—” She thought all at once of what she’d said to Marsha—that Everett wasn’t her type—and she felt herself blushing.

“It’s perfectly all right,” he assured her. “I did smell like fish. I’m sorry I showed up like that—I was worried that it was rude of me to come to a dinner party smelling of fish. I don’t usually smell like that. That was an unusual situation where I had to deal with a catch as fast as possible.”

She smiled and nodded. She realized that he didn’t smell of fish then—as a matter of fact, he smelled very nice. He smelled a little bit like the sea and a little bit like a musky kind of aftershave. “I’m just not used to living by the sea, that’s all. Well—I suppose New York is by the ocean, but you know what I mean. I’m sure fishermen smell like fish a great deal. Sounds like it’s probably just part of the job. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

He nodded, smiling playfully at her. “No fishermen in New York, huh?”

“Well, not in my circles,” she said, and then winced. “There I go again,” she said, feeling flustered. “I’m sure that sounded terribly stuck-up. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand what you’re saying. I can’t imagine there are too many fishermen walking around New York associating with classy ladies such as yourself.”

“Oh, hush,” she said, laughing.

He grinned and took another sip of his coffee. “What was it like in New York? Besides the lack of fishermen?”

“Oh, it was exciting at first.” She slowed down in her baking as she started to reminisce about the past. “I loved the action and the busyness of it all. But then—especially after Dane moved away—it just started to feel too lonely. None of my friends there really cared about me.” She paused, wondering why she was opening up so much to a man who was essentially still a total stranger to her.

“May I ask what happened to your husband?”

Her eyebrows rose. Was he curious about whether she had recently left a relationship? “He passed away a long time ago. I’ve been on my own—well, besides Dane—for many years.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you. I think maybe if I’d still had a partner I might have stayed in New York, but I got tired of feeling alone all the time. So Alissa and Dane suggested that I move here, and I loved the idea. I haven’t regretted it once.”

He nodded, smiling at her. “It’s a great place to be. I’ve lived here all my life.”

“You have, really? Oh my. Honestly, I envy you.” She laughed lightly. “It seems like a wonderful town. Has it changed much?”

“Oh, not much.” He chuckled a little. “The people have changed, and that changes the community. But it’s always been good, and the town itself hasn’t changed all that much. We’ve still got most of the same old buildings, things like that.”

“I love the old buildings,” she said warmly. “They’re very charming.”

“Well, they’re kept in great condition. Folks here really care about them—holding onto their legacy is important to the people of Blueberry Bay.”

She nodded, having gotten a sense of that herself. “The people here love their town.”

“I think that’s my favorite thing about living here,” he said. “People here know how to value the little things, you know? It makes for a much happier life.”

She smiled. It was something that she’d been discovering for herself of late, and it was affirming to hear him say it out loud like that. “You’re right,” she said. “It’s a good way to live.” She went back to her ingredient mixing in earnest, feeling her spirits lift even further. “What about you? What are some of the little things you value?”

“Oh, fishing definitely,” he said, grinning.

It took her a second to realize that he wasn’t joking. “Really?” she asked, and he let out a booming guffaw.

“Really. I love fishing. I love being out on the water and paying close attention to the signals of nature. It’s like a kind of listening. And it’s always exciting trying to do something well and then succeeding. It’s satisfying when I catch a load of fish.”

“I suppose it must be,” she said, nodding as she worked. She had never considered the idea that someone might like a job like fishing—she’d always considered it to be the kind of thing someone did for money alone. “It must be nice to be out on the water during the sunset.”

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