Page 69 of Summer Longing
Olivia opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, then tried again. “I mean, I was never having a nervous breakdown…”
“Don’t get me wrong,” her father said. “I’m relieved that it’s not the case. Just wondering if anything’s happened in the past day or two to lift your spirits.”
“No,” she said, the sound of Marco’s voice reaching her even as she stood in the foyer. “Nothing at all.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Ruth climbed aboard Tito Barros’s boat in the middle of dense fog. She was uneasy with the fact that she couldn’t see any of the landmarks in the distance. Tito, taking her hand to help steady her, assured her the morning fog would clear.
“And even if it doesn’t, we’ll be fine,” he said.
The poor visibility was not the only thing putting her on edge; Tito’s sister, Bianca, had been hauling a bag of oysters on the dock when Ruth arrived.
“Hello, Bianca,” Ruth said because it was obvious they had seen each other.
“It’s early,” Bianca said. “The boat tours don’t start for another hour.”
“Yes, well, I’m actually…”
“Ruth!” Tito called with a wave, walking up the metal gangway bridging the dock to the boatyard. He was dressed in a navy T-shirt, khaki-colored shorts, and a pale blue and gray Long Point baseball cap.
Bianca crossed her arms and waited for him to reach them before saying, “Don’t tell me you’re spending the morning out joyriding. Doesn’t anyone besides me work around here?”
“Bianca, carrying the oysters Marco picked does not constitute work,” Tito said.
“Well.” She turned to Ruth. “I see you’ve helped yourself to my daughter’s house and now you’re helping yourself to my brother.”
“That’s enough, Bianca,” Tito said, motioning for Ruth to follow him. Eager to escape Bianca’s rancor, Ruth walked quickly, keeping pace with Tito down the metal gangway to the edge of the dock. What was that woman’s problem?
“Don’t pay her any mind. She’s gotten ornery in her old age.”
Ruth bristled. “Old age? I doubt she’s any older than I am.”
Tito put his hand to his chest. “My apologies. You seem much younger. It’s your lightness of spirit.”
“Well, your sister does always seem angry.”
Tito nodded. “She feels—well, I guess you could say she feels cheated by life. Her husband died when she was in her thirties. It was a blow, and she’s been bitter ever since. But her bark is worse than her bite.” Tito knelt down to pull on a rope attached to a small skiff tied to the dock. A very small skiff.
“I thought you said we were going on a sailboat,” Ruth said, trying not to sound panicked.
“We are. But she’s out on the moorings.” He pointed into the foggy distance.
A young man in a Barros Boatyard T-shirt and jeans was already on the skiff, and he helped Ruth aboard while Tito untied the rope tethering it to the dock. Ruth steadied herself, sitting on a small bench while Tito jumped on. The boat swayed heavily from side to side, and Ruth thought she was going to pass out from fear. Her shark-phobia anxiety level was at about a ten, cruising quickly to a twelve.
The Barros Boatyard guy started the engine and they sped out into the water. Ruth gripped the side of the bench like her life depended on it. Tito made small talk with the other man about whether or not the fog would burn off quickly and then he turned to Ruth and said, “Having fun yet?”
Ruth could only nod. He moved closer to her and knelt down.
“Don’t worry—you’re in good hands. I promise.”
By the time they reached Tito’s sailboat, theMaria,Ruth was in a sweat. The boat was outfitted with a dark-wood-paneled lower cabin that could sleep four or five people and had a bookshelf, a table, a sink, and a comfortable wraparound couch. This was where—to Tito’s consternation—she spent the first few minutes of the sail. It wasn’t until they were halfway between the dock and Long Point that she climbed the narrow stairs to join Tito on the deck.
“How long’s it been since you were on a boat?” he asked from his position behind the wheel.
“I took the ferry here from Boston last month,” she said.
“That hardly counts.”
