Page 66 of Sea La Vie
“Not too far away. About an hour out.”
I nod, then take a sip from my mug. It warms my hands, and a satisfied shiver runs through my body.
“Best cup of coffee you’ve ever had, huh?” Paul asks, smirking.
“It’ll do,” I say, grinning back.
I glance around the boat and find everything in pristine condition. It really is an impressive boat. Paul sees me assessing everything and bumps my shoulder with his. “See what a little money will get you?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “Our boat was fine for years,” I say.
“Until it wasn’t,” he points out.
I sigh. “Until it wasn’t,” I echo.
“Your dad’s always been cheap. Ever since highschool,” he chuffs.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” I retort. “We’ve done just fine.” Paul smirks at me, his eyes saying everything. “We’ll need a new boat now though, I guess.” I think ofSea La Vie, out there floating around the ocean, and my heart plummets.
Surprising me, Paul lays an arm across my shoulders. “Your parents must be so proud of you, kid.”
I blink up at him, noticing the similarities between him and my dad. Same deeply tanned skin, same coon-eye tan line from the constant sunglasses, same wrinkles forming around the eyes, and the salt peppering their hair. All the traits of a weathered fisherman, and my heart squeezes, just for a moment. The fact he’s speaking of my mom as if she’s still able to see me, to protect me, and to be proud meanseverythingto me.
“You think?” I ask.
“I know,” he answers. “Especially your momma. Gosh, that momma of yours. She was something.”
“She was, wasn’t she,” I say. The sunrise is breathtaking this morning, mother nature showing off as an apology for last night’s wrath. The orange and pinks paint Paul and his boat in a soft hue.
“You know she picked your daddy over me, don’t you?” he asks. I raise an eyebrow. “We both asked her to the homecoming dance on the same day. Your daddy won, and she kicked me to the curb.” He chuckles.
“So that’s why you hate each other,” I say.
Paul shrugs. “I don’t hate him. I don’t think he hates me either. We just enjoy a little friendly competition is all.” Paul squints then points to the left. “Almost there,” he says.
I squint too, mirroring him, and can just make out the docks up ahead. “You’re dropping me off in Widow’s Wharf?” I ask.
“Well yeah,” he answers. “You don’t have a boat to get back home from Haven’s Harbor.” He coughs a nasty, sputtering cough, and I feel bad that he’s been out in the weather all night for me.
As we get closer, I can make out a line of people along the dock, all waving their arms and calling our name.
“Welcome home, kid,” Paul says.
29
Tate
“You’re sure she’s not on the boat?” I echo. “Like it’s…empty?” The Coast Guardsman nods. “You checked?” I ask. “Every square inch of that boat…you checked?”
He lets out a breath of air and shoves his hands into his pockets. “She’s not on the boat. I’m sorry. But I promise we’ll keep looking for her.” He gives me a pat on the shoulder, then leaves me standing there in the middle of Eden’s store.
Eden ran to the stockroom, her face as green as the grass growing outside, and slammed the door behind her. Archer was gone to who knows where, leaving me here alone.
As if on cue, the door swings open and the wind blows in with none other than Lucille. She begins to trudge over to me, a look of keen determination in her eye. “Tate.”
I hold up a hand. “Not today, Lucille. Please. Not today.”
Lucille rocks back on her heels, her mouth a perfect ‘o’. “Excuse me?” she finally asks.
