Page 75 of Finding the Pieces

I bite my lips to keep my smile from turning into a laugh. Seems like Dee has her sights set on catching something more exciting on this trip.

Taylor crosses her arms over her chest, a challenge in her grin, eyes focused solely on Dee. “Guess we’ll see.”

***

“Do you want some ginger ale?” Carissa asks Bec, whose face is so green I’m shocked her breakfast isn’t already overboard.

“If I put anything in my mouth right now, that’ll set off a chain reaction I won’t be able to stop,” Bec says, voice unsteady, leaning her head heavily on Carissa’s shoulder as they sit huddled together on the small bench.

Today’s been the literal breath of fresh air I needed. And while it’s a little unsettling being out on the open water with nothing around, the salty breeze breaks the stifling humidity, the warm sun bakes my skin, and the playlist Evie made is playing over the speakers as we are driven to another fishing spot to try our luck somewhere new.

We haven’t caught any fish, but that was never important to me. As I stand here, surrounded by friends who dropped everything for an impromptu long weekend trip for…me, I’m filled with gratitude. I can’t believe I actually agreed to this and made it through the long drive and the first night to now with only video chats to dull the ache of missing my family.

The string on my heart pulling me home has been stretched taut since I left my family. I’m enjoying myself, but I’m already eagerly anticipating the moment when that pressure finally slackens, and Luca is in my arms again and Dom holds us both tightly in his.

“Here’s the bucket. Your friend won’t make it to the edge in time,” Taylor says, handing Carissa an old construction bucket with mystery stains along the sides.

Carissa leans forward to placeThe Bucketbetween Bec’s legs. Bec’s lips turn down, a face I’ve only seen her make when she’s dancing on the bar after three too many drinks. “Oh god, no. I’m scared of the community puke bucket. This is my nightmare.”

“Youcannotget sick, Bec,” Abby says sternly. “I’m serious.That’sthe kind of chain reaction we should be scared of right now. Thankfully we have a nurse on board.”

“This is the shit they don’t tell you in nursing school. You become everyone’s go-to medic,” Carissa jokes. She’s not wrong; she’s put on her nurse hat with us many times over the years. She might be overworked and underappreciated, but when she’s needed, nothing ever dampens her compassion and attentive care.

Carissa was incredible with me when I was pregnant. Even though I’ve never gone into details with the girls about what happened when Luca was born, when I told them the abbreviated version, the one I carry with me and use like armor when people ask about the story, her eyes bore into mine with a knowingof a health care worker who has experienced her share of secondhand medical trauma. She might be the easiest friend to tell someday, but I can never seem to form the words.

“I’m gonna need you guys to get it together. We didn’t come all this way to go home without an epic fishing story. I need a picture of my own to rival the gigantic fish pics littering the douchey dating sites. What do you think of this, Chad? Yeah, mine’s bigger!”

“Uh, Dee? I think you might get your wish,” Evie says from where she’s seated on the other side of Bec.

We all look toward the fishing poles, one dipping lower than the others sporadically.

“Buckle up. It’s time,” Taylor says, a fire lighting up her expression, clearly in her element.

“Fuck, yes,” Dee hisses as she hauls ass to the edge of the boat, watching the line drag out into the water.

“Hold tight, we need to let this guy run,” Taylor says. I watch, fascinated that this is someone’s everyday world. The excitement radiating off Taylor is contagious, clearly overtaking Dee as well, who is leaning off the back of the boat, practically folded in half, watching as the fish runs out the line. “Okay, grab this,” Taylor demands, shoving the fishing pole into Dee’s eager arms.

“Now, keep your line tight and remember what I said. Lift high, then dip low and reel. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dee says, completely ignited by the thrill of a challenge. The girl is always two feet into every experience, no hesitation. Simply fearless. Jealousy pangs in my chest, unwelcome. I bury it, and after offering Bec a comforting pat on the shoulder, I join Abby at the back of the boat, her phone held high catching a few pictures of Dee in action.

Dee settles into a rhythm—lift, dip, reel, lift, dip, reel—Taylor coaching her through it.

“Don’t give it any slack,” Taylor yells as she reaches over the side of the boat with a large hook.

Taylor’s muscles flex as she heaves a massive fish with a long, sharp bill onto the deck of the boat, where it begins to thrash around wildly. “Beautiful sailfish. Lively too,” she yells, gripping the fucking nose-sword this thing was built with in one hand and grabbing a club out of who-the-fuck-knows-where and then whacking it repeatedly until it finally goes still.

Abby and I both shout in shock, gripping each other’s forearms, while Evie’s face drops in shock, jaw hanging open.

“Jesus Christ,” Carissa murmurs.

Dee’s eyes are wide as she watches, hands still gripping the fishing rod tightly. “Brutal, Taylor.”

“Holy shit, we’re taking fish off the wedding menu,” Bec says right before she loses her stomach. Carissa rubs her back while Evie closes her eyes and bites her lips as they press together. “On second thought,” Bec says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, elbows braced on her knees as she hunches overThe Bucket. “I’m going vegan. Immediately.”

Chapter thirty-nine

Dom

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