Page 34 of Prayers for the Prickly

While I was a very social creature at work, my inner hedgehog got all the peopling it would ever need dealing with the customers who came in and out each day. Having a mate who preferred to spend one-on-one time with me, rather than going out to some bar, club, or loud place where we couldn’t just relax and talk without a million other sounds, was practically perfect for me. It was nice, relaxing in the evening, unwinding and introducing him to shows that didn’t involve everything blowing up. Not that I didn’t appreciate a good disaster movie, I loved them, but not every time I sat down to watch something.

I loved that he hadn’t balked when I’d told him that, and had passed over the remote, instead of trying to pick something else for us to watch. From the watch again list I’d seen when he’d scrolled through the options the first time, I’d already been able to tell it lacked variety. Fortunately, that sweet tooth of his played out in my favor again when I introduced him toCandified: Home for the Holidays. The moment he realized it was a show centered on making a life-sized candy house, he was hooked. Now he was the one who turned on the next episode the moment we parked ourselves on the couch for a bit of relaxation time, while I got the joy of watching my mate’s face light up over something I’d introduced him to. Guess being antisocial did have its perks, if it meant I got to spend the night in my mate’s arms watching something I loved with the person I’d fallen head over heels in love with.

Chapter 13

Gregor

I should have expected something like this to happen. This year’s end of spring squalls were the strongest we’d been hit with in years. Bad enough that some boats had opted not to launch and try and get in front of it, but here I was, on a four-day trip to one of my family’s most profitable lobstering grounds.

As for how I’d come to be on the boat instead of in my shop, well, that was because my Uncle Baron had banged up his hip on the last trip out and was at the fish market recuperating while helping out there, where he could clean fish from a chair and not have to worry about putting any pressure on it.

It just wasn’t like any of us to fully take a day off, even when we were hurting, but having three different offshoots of the business made it easier to transition into a different position when age, accident, or circumstances dictated that you needed to find a different way to contribute.

We were a pretty communal family, and the catch of the day wasn’t just for stocking our stand at the fish market with. Family members met the boat at the dock when it came in, ready with their ice chests to claim whatever they needed for their freezers. Maybe it meant less money for the hands on the boat, but it always ensured that no member of our family went hungry.

It was like that with everything. Whenever I dug clams, I took a big batch over to Mom so she could surprise Nana with her favorite dish. Clams Casino. Somehow, Dad always managed to distract Nana by reminding her of some errands he’d been putting off taking her on. I was sure she’d caught on by now that he used the same ruse whenever he wanted to get her out of the house. I was beginning to wonder if she never reminded him about those missed errands because she was letting him save them up for when a surprise came along. Talk about a treat. She’d get to be giddy with anticipation without knowing what was coming her way. I bet that made the reveal that much more exciting, especially if it exceeded what she’d built it up in her head to be.

Nana was a great deal snarlier than Mom, and a bit of a skeptic, so she never built things up too high anyway. Coming home to something she loved always left her in brighter spirits in the days afterward, even if she did eventually revert back to being more sarcasm than sass when she was giving my siblings and me a hard time.

Uncle Baron’s accident meant that I got to get back out on the water for the first time in weeks. I really didn’t mind the chance to spend some time out on the water. Since I’d opened my shop, I tried to volunteer at least two days a month to go out with one of the crews to help on deck. Two extra days wouldn’t hurt anything.

Calling out, I announced that I’d spotted the last of the buoys, a string of five that we needed to pull before we could batten down the hatches and ride out the storm below deck for the night. My cousin Storm and I would probably playPhase 10again while the rest of the crew playedTexas Hold’em. Her old man was the captain of the vessel and my uncle by marriage. He never drove at night, preferring to let his younger brother and relief captain do it to give him a bit more seasoning and experience behind the helm.

I liked this crew and the people on it. A motley pack of European and American Wolverines, we meshed well together, but there were jokes, there were shenanigans, and since I hadn’t been on the vessel in a while, there would be the perfect target for their bullshit.

Me.

And I was determined not to get pranked.

I hooked the first pot and fed it through the pully system, careful to get out of the way before it started hoisting the pot up. I could see that it was full the moment it landed on the tables, water still pouring out of the sides, revealing the bounty of lobsters inside. As always, this area proved to be pure gold for our family. With the rain beginning to come down harder and in thicker sheets, we hurried to empty the lobster into the hold while we stacked the pot on the deck, the boat steaming toward the next buoy. As soon as I finished helping to stack the pot I hurried back to the rail and prepared to throw the hook again, glad I hadn’t allowed my skills to get rusty.

Each full pot helped fill the hold faster, not that it would shave much off our time out here. Maybe half a day, but that would still be an extra half a day to spend with August, even it was from my chair in the corner of the kitchen in his shop. Just being able to be near him calmed something in me. My drawings had come together almost effortlessly in the past few days, and I attributed it to having him in my life.

In hindsight, I might have been thinking about him a little too much when I threw the hook the third time, because the rope wrapped around my arm and flung me over the railing, my body twisting as I flew through the air.

Somehow, I managed to get my free arm loose from my rain slicker in time to yank the other one loose of the sleeve when there was a brief moment of slack. Kicking, I propelled myself away from the rope, shoving at the straps of the suspenders holding my deck boots on. The attached hip waders came off with them, leaving me in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. The jeans I shed with practiced ease. Every year Gramps still took us out on his boat and threw us over to ensure we remembered how to shed our gear so we could swim in case this very thing ever happened.

Now here I was, executing the steps perfectly, despite the throbbing that had begun to radiate in my shoulder, and the echoed shouts in the back of my mind that were starting to give me a headache.

Gregor, you answer me right this gods be damned minute!

Oh, oh shit, my hedgehog sounded pissed.

Just…give me a moment,I thought back to him.

Focusing on that thought slowed down the removal of my double layer of socks, but once I kicked them free it no longer felt like there were five-pound weights on each foot.

I kicked to the surface in time to see a red and yellow life preserver land several feet away, so I swam toward it, hooked my arm around it, and hacked up the water that was threatening to choke me.

S-sorry, I thought to him a little easier this time.I just need a few more minutes before I can communicate clearly.

Just tell me that you’re okay.The demand was clear, he needed at least that much from me. His frayed emotions came through with thoughts that were a blend of impatience and irritation.

About to be,I thought back, refusing to lie to my mate.

As much as I’d have liked to tell him that everything was just fine and dandy, it wouldn’t be until I was back on the deck of that ship and Uncle Curtis had a chance to look at my arm and shoulder, both of which were throbbing now. I tried to turn my head, but that just caused another wave of pain, so I decided to hold off on all of that until there was something far more solid than water beneath my feet.

I guess that’s better than nothing, August thought before going silent as the life preserver was hauled against the side of the ship while they lowered a ladder for me.

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