Page 41 of Comforting the Grump

“I’ll take your word for it.”

I gasped. “You’ve never seen them? Not even on a school trip?”

He shook his head. “I missed out on that one ’cause I was recovering from an appendectomy.”

“Well, we need to change that. How about a whale-watching trip from Port Townsend? It’s the perfect season for it.”

Marnin set his fork down, giving me a long, searching look. “Whale watching, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s not far, and it will be so much fun, I promise.” My enthusiasm bubbled over, and I reached across the table, covering his hand with mine. “Come on, what do you say?”

He hesitated, a battle raging behind his eyes. I could see the gears turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons like he approached everything else—analytically. “I’m not exactly the whale-watching type. Plus, the idea of spending hours on a boat…”

“Trust me, it’s exhilarating. The wind in your hair, the smell of the ocean, the chance to see something truly majestic,” I insisted, squeezing his hand gently. “And I’ll be there with you. We can make a day out of it.”

Marnin looked at our joined hands, then back up at me. Something shifted in his gaze, and I knew I had him.

“Alright.” A reluctant grin tugged at his lips. “But if I end up tossing my breakfast overboard, I’m blaming you.”

“Fantastic!” I exclaimed, feeling like I’d won a significant victory. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

We finished our breakfast amid plans, the awkwardness of the morning after dissolving like fog in the rising sun. As we cleared the dishes, the prospect of our upcoming adventure filled me with an anticipation I hadn’t felt in ages.

The sun was out in uncharacteristic force, setting the Seattle skyline aglow as we eased onto the freeway. Soon, the city dissolved behind us into a mosaic of towering evergreens and open sky. We left the busyness of the city behind us and made our way onto the Olympic peninsula. Marnin’s hands were steady on the wheel, his eyes fixed ahead with a determination that made me smile.

An hour passed with easy conversation, and soon, the quaint seaside charm of Port Townsend came into view, greeting us with its historic buildings and the salty tang of ocean air. We parked near the docks, stretching our legs after the drive, and made our way to the ticket booth for the whale watch.

“Two for the next tour, please,” Marnin said, his voice carrying an edge of excitement he couldn’t quite mask. He paid for the tickets, and I felt a warm rush of affection for the man who’d readily stepped into my world of spur-of-the-moment plans.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the tickets from him. “For doing this. It means a lot.”

“Let’s not get sappy now,” Marnin warned, but his eyes betrayed a softness that hadn’t been there before.

With two hours to kill, we wandered through the town, a picturesque blend of art galleries, antique shops, and cozy cafés. The shop windows beckoned with their displays of local crafts and nautical knick-knacks. I couldn’t resist dragging Marnin into a small bookstore, its shelves crammed with well-loved spines and the scent of old paper.

“Ever think about retiring in a place like this?” I asked as we strolled, enjoying the casual intimacy that seemed to be growing between us.

“Retirement?” Marnin scoffed, running a hand over a book with an aged leather cover. “What would I do all day without the chaos of the city to keep me on my toes?”

“Read, relax, watch the whales…”

“I’d fucking die. This is even worse than Forestville. You’re so isolated.”

I had to agree with him. I liked Port Townsend, but only for a visit. I couldn’t imagine myself living here. “And a distinct lack of sex partners, which would be a problem for you…”

“No kidding.”

I managed to keep my purchases limited to a single refrigerator magnet—no way was I spending too much money now that my finances were so uncertain—and then we headed to the dock to line up for the boat.

The boat deck thrummed under my feet as Marnin and I weaved through the clusters of eager whale watchers to find our seats. We settled near the stern, where the endless churn of water promised an unobstructed view. I leaned on the railing, a shiver of excitement running down my spine as I breathed in the salty air.

“I can’t wait to see the orcas,” I said, the wind snatching the words away as the boat began its slow crawl out of the harbor.

Marnin grunted. “Don’t count on seeing them. There’s no guarantee.”

Funny, but his remark didn’t bring me down. I was an optimist and Marnin a realist, both of us shaped by the circumstances of our backgrounds. I knew enough about his history to understand where he was coming from. When life kept throwing disappointments at you, you learned to temper your expectations to avoid being let down again.

I studied his profile, the way the sea air tousled his dark hair, now streaked with rebellious strands of gray. The midday sun cast a golden glow over his skin, softening the sharp angles of his gaze. He was a very attractive man. There was no denying that. And very much my type. If a relationship with Marnin didn’t have impossible and complications written all over it, I’d seriously consider it. But alas, we’d have to settle for being friends with benefits. Really great benefits.

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