Page 36 of Tide Over

How I managed to develop a thing for Theo. My roommate… aguy.

But as I open my eyes again to the photo of Theo, his warm eyes looking back at me, I focus on the calm and comforting feeling they bring. The same feeling I get each night after talking to him. I never would have anticipated the effect he has on me, but it’s one I can’t ignore. Because somehow, he’s managing to slowly open me back up, despite my efforts to shut down and give up.

My heart thumps as I exit out of his texts and tap on my mom’s name again.

And send the message.

Gu bràth.

FIFTEEN

The attendantat the buyer's station hands me today’s slip, and I’m relieved to see the price has held steady from last week. With a slightly above-average haul today, this return is a welcome sight.

“Thanks,” I say, shoving the slip in my pocket. He gives me a nod and moves on to the next in line.

I make my way back to the boat, where my crew is loading the last of our bait and ice.

“All set, Captain?” Mitch asks, tossing the last bucket to Sarah, who stacks it with the rest of them.

“Yup.” I hop into the boat and whistle across the wharf to Glen where he’s chatting with another crew. He shoots me a look and flips me off, but I just chuckle. He hates being whistled at, but if he doesn’t want to be treated like a dog, he should stop wandering off like one.

He grumbles as he jumps into the boat. “Could have just said my name.”

I shrug, starting up the engine. “Could have just stayed with the boat.”

Mitch laughs and pats his leg. “Here, puppy.”

“Fuck off.” Glen takes a seat on the bench, shaking his head. “I’m too old to be working with you shits.”

“Stop sookin’,” Sarah says with a chuckle as I pull away from the wharf.

Their continued bickering fades into the background as I drive us back to the marina, and my anticipation grows. Because Liam gets home today. I glance at my watch as we near the marina, a bit surprised that we managed to make it back earlier than usual since it’s only 2:00PM. But that surprise quickly shifts to excitement, knowing his flight landed at 1:00PM. And now I have to roll my eyes at myself for feeling like this just because he's back in Nova Scotia.

I guide the boat into our spot at the wharf, cutting the engine as the crew hops out to tie us off. Everyone quickly falls into their usual routine to clean up and get the boat ready for tomorrow, and I toss some broken traps onto the wharf to add to my growing pile at home. Lobsters thrive in rocky areas, and luckily for us, our traps are set on a large rocky ledge which leads to high catch rates. Unfortunately, those same rocks take a toll on the traps.

As the crew works on the boat, I start fixing what I can with the tools I have here, and stack the rest to take home. But I keep glancing at my watch, as my mind drifts to a pair of blue eyes.

“Got somewhere to be?” Sarah’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.

I shake my head, ripping out a torn net from one of the traps. “No.”

Mitch pauses mid-hose and looks up at me from the boat deck. “What job do you have this afternoon?”

A mental list of tasks flashes through my mind as I realize I didn’t schedule anything for today. There are a few loose ends I could tie up and some other jobs I could start, but none of itis urgent. Looking down at the pile of traps needing attention, I realize that’s probably my plan for the day.

“Just heading to the workshop, I guess,” I say, tossing the last trap onto the platform to haul to my truck.

“You guess?” Glen laughs. “You don’t have the entire rest of your day booked? Who are you?”

Mitch laughs and starts hosing the deck again. “Give him an hour. He’ll end up building a patio somewhere or something.”

I roll my eyes at them and Sarah chuckles, patting my shoulder.

“You go, I’ll whip these two into shape,” she says with a smile.

“Thanks.” I shake my head at Glen and Mitch as they start taking bets for what I’ll end up doing this afternoon.

I manage to slip out of the marina before Sheila can corner me and talk my ear off, as she often does. Luckily, she's busy chatting with another crew while I haul the lobster traps to my truck, avoiding any delay. So I quickly load them into the back, hop in, and head towards home. As I pass the store, I wave to my grandfather and the old man crew on the front porch, opting not to stop in today. I’m too eager to get home.

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