Page 32 of Deep Waters
Tide Chaserbobbed at the dock. Built for speed and passengers, it gleamed in the morning sunshine, casting silver shards of light across the neighboring boats.
“Brandon, you there?”
Brandon’s dark head popped up as he stretched to full height in the tiny cabin on the bridge. He wore a Seahawks hoodie and jeans, his short brown hair shoved under a green ballcap with their business logo on it. The rest of the boat was open to the elements with a walk-around deck to allow passengers to crowd to one side or the other when they spotted a pod of whales.
“Hey, Rae,” he said easily.
Brandon had been a little ahead of me and Zach in high school. He was more Drew’s age. Other than him being business partners and first mate to my cousin Jordan, I didn’t know him well. He kept to himself. His mom had moved somewhere off-island. Health issues, I think. He visited her in Bellingham or Anacortes every few weeks. That was where Brandon was the weekend of Jordan’s death.
Brandon wiped his hands on a rag, approaching the gunwale near me. “What can I do for you?” Up close, shadows darkened the area below his eyes, a silent testimony to grief. He and Jordan must have been close.
“We had a little trouble at Jia’s recently. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”
He frowned. “What kind of trouble? Is everything okay?”
“The kids and I are fine. I just came home to an open door. It looked like someone had been through the house. I can’t imagine what they would have been looking for, but I wanted to let you know. You haven’t had any issues?”
He shook his head slowly. “No. Do you want me to come out? Have a look around? I might be able to help you see if anything is missing.”
“It’s sweet of you to offer, but we’re good. I mostly wanted to warn you. But what do you think they could have been looking for?”
He lifted a beefy shoulder, his round face thoughtful. “Not sure. But I’m happy to come check things out for you.”
“We’re fine, but thanks. I hope Jia won’t fry my ass, but I let Zach and Drew put up some cameras around the house. If someone tries again, we’ll catch them.”
Brandon rolled his upper lip between his teeth, rocking back on his heels. Something flashed in his dark eyes. Disappointment? It was sweet of him to care. He and Jordan had been friends and partners for years. It was natural for him to be concerned.
“If there’s anything I can do to help, just call.”
“Thanks, Brandon. I think we’ve got things under control. I’ve got to get to work. Smooth sailing.”
He nodded, and I felt his gaze on my back as I walked up the dock toward our family’s marine repair shop. Used to flying under the radar, I felt odd having so many men offer me help and protection. Zach as a friend when I’d been “dating” Simon, and I had other male friends. Most through Search and Rescue. But they’d always kept a respectful distance. Helpful, but not overly friendly. Most of them knew Simon. Knew we were together.
Now that I was free of the lie, there was a subtle shift. A new awareness. One I didn’t know how to interpret.
My friendship with Zach had been forged over years as neighbors. As teammates in SAR. Nothing had ever crossed the line, Simon an invisible barrier between us. One I was content to hold on to. With Simon’s protection there was no “risk.” Because Zach was charming. Driven. Handsome. Everything a woman could want. And almost all of them did.
He charmed and slept his way through half the town and most of the visitors, leaving nothing behind but wistful sighs and the occasional broken heart. I’d watched it happen over and over, each new conquest slipping into the next without hesitation. And I had no right to care. So I hadn’t. I’d tamped down any jealousy as none of my business. At least, that was what I told myself.
Our relationship was based on my being off-limits. Now that he’d kissed me and we’d danced together in front of half the town? I didn’t know what to think. The boundaries I’d so carefully maintained were obliterated, as if they were lines drawn in the sand washed away by high tide. My feelings were growing, building like waves tumbling against the shore.
But was Zach just a shell, content to wash along my shore or any other? If we slept together, would it be anything but a fleeting thrill for him? Was I just a temporary fascination, something to amuse him before he found someone new?
What if I was different?
What if I wasn’t?
I wanted to believe he was sincere. That he had my back. We’d been friends for years. I knew he cared about me. But was it enough to build a future on? Or was I destined to be another fleeting moment, a memory before he moved on?
And did I want my first real time to be with Zach? What if I was terrible? He had loads more sexual experience than I did. While I trusted Zach to be kind, I didn’t want him to be disappointed. Messing around on Simon hadn’t exactly been cheating, but I’d been careful to do any exploration when I was off-island and far away from small-town eyes.
“Rae, I need you to get on Mr. Basu’s job. We need it wrapped up today, and your brother already did the basic maintenance you recommended.” My dad’s gruff command brought me out of my contemplation of my nearly non-existent love life.
“Sure.” At least focusing on work would let me put off any decisions. Taking apart engines, figuring out what would make them perform perfectly again, was like a puzzle. A wonderful, frustrating, puzzle.
San Juan Marine Repair consisted of a tiny front office and reception area, plus the sales desks and my dad’s office. In the back, we had parts and tool storage and service bays designated for mechanical and fiberglass repairs. We handled painting in a separate bay for better ventilation. That plus the outdoor yard for boat storage made our piece of property just north of the harbor a sprawling hodgepodge of cavernous spaces and distinctive smells. Sometimes the shop smelled strongly of paint with a metallic undertone, gluey with epoxy or resins, or carried the sharp scent of diesel fuel. All with the underlying mustiness of saltwater, wet rope, and moldy canvas that clung to boats.
My dad and brothers handled the basic service and parts sales. We made most of our money re-powering existing boats or helping to commission new outboard motors. I handled the more difficult troubleshooting, sometimes spending weeks diagnosing and tracing why equipment wasn’t performing.
