After the storm, p.14
After the Storm, page 14
Sam tilted his chin up to look at her. “Listen to me, son. Don’t let the shiny new object in the toy store window distract you from your beloved stuffed animal at home.”
Jamie chuckled. “Nice analogy, Mom.” He bent down to untie his lines. “Is there harm in having a crush if I don’t act on it?”
“Absolutely! You’re flirting with disaster. If you get caught up in the heat of a moment, you might not be able to control yourself.”
“Then I’ll have to avoid such moments.” Jamie jumped in his boat and sped off across the still water, replaying his conversation with his mom on the way back to the marina.
He was too preoccupied securing his boat in his slip to notice Kirstin standing on the dock, watching him.
With hands on hips, she said, “Where have you been? I noticed your boat was gone, and I’ve been trying to call you. Do you not get cell service out on the water?”
“Depends on where I am.” Grabbing his phone off the console, he scrolled through the missed calls, relieved to see none were from the marina store but disappointed none were from Lizbet either.
“I went to see my mom,” he said, stepping off the boat to face her. The object in the toy store window was exceptionally shiny today in a flowing blue linen dress with her blonde hair dancing about her shoulders.
“How’d it go with your wife?”
Jamie looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
She removed her sunglasses and studied his face. “That doesn’t sound good. When you are ready to talk about it, I’m happy to listen.”
“Thanks,” he muttered.
“Did you mention to your mom about selling me the houseboat?”
“Yes. And she’s fine with it.”
Kirstin’s face lit up. “That’s fantastic.” She threw her hands above her head and victory danced a circle around him on the dock.
He waited until she finished celebrating to tell her the price, which she readily agreed to. “I have one stipulation. If you decide to sell the barge, I want first right of refusal.”
“Done.” She pulled out her checkbook and rummaged through her purse. “I’ll write you a check now. Do you have a pen?”
He laughed. “I don’t typically carry ink pens with me when I go out on the boat. But there’s no rush. We can do the transaction tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She held out her palm. “Can I at least have the key? I’m dying to see it again.”
“Sure!” He removed the key from his key ring and handed it to her. “I’ll go with you. There are a few things I need to show you about the boat.”
As they walked over to the far dock, he explained about garbage collection and the septic system. Detecting her skepticism, he suggested she live on the boat rent-free for a couple of weeks before buying it. “Try it out. See how you like it. If you change your mind, there’s no harm done.”
“No way! I’m certain about this. Besides, I’ve looked at countless apartments and houses for sale. The boat is the only cool place I would consider laying my head.”
Jamie laughed. “I’ll remind you of that when the first big storm comes through.”
A flicker of uncertainty was quickly followed by determination. “You won’t scare me off, Jamie Sweeney.”
He threw up his hands. “Just want you to be aware of potential dangers.”
When they reached the boat, she unlocked the door, and they entered the salon. Jamie ran a hand down the pine wall paneling. “And you promise you won’t paint the pine.”
She drew an X across her chest. “Cross my heart. It’s the best feature.”
“Are you planning to work from here as well?”
“No way. I’m not a work-from-home kinda girl. I need more structure in my life. I’ve rented office space in a charming converted warehouse. The exposed brick walls are fabulous. I considered living there, but the commercial zoning forbids it.”
Kirstin wandered around the salon. “All I really need to do is add a few colorful accessories, like rugs, pillows, and lamps.” She climbed the stairs to the bedroom. “I envision white linens with mounds of decorative pillows.” She gestured at the row of transom windows above the bed. “The natural light in here is lovely.”
She opened the door and exited onto the upper deck. “I’m gonna hang fairy lights all around the canopy. Maybe purchase a more comfortable reading chair with a little table and lamp.”
“Where will you store your chair, table, and lamp when it storms?”
“In the downstairs cabin. Stop worrying, Jamie. I know what I’m doing. I’m just so happy. Thank you,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck.
He molded his body to hers. She felt so good, and it had been so long since he’d held a woman in his arms. Unable to control his desire, he tightened his hold and pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him back, and his hands slid down her shapely figure to her bottom. She was smoking hot and setting him on fire. He was walking her backward toward the bedroom when she pushed him away.
“Slow down, partner. You’re married, which makes you totally off limits. This is my fault. I got carried away.”
“I’m equally to blame.” Jamie collapsed onto the lounge chair. “We need to address this attraction between us. Ignoring it isn’t working.”
“Tell me about it.” Kirstin moved over to the railing. “I’ll be the one who gets hurt when you get back together with your wife.”
Jamie buried his face in his hands. “I’m so confused. I honestly don’t know if Liz and I can work things out. Or if I even want to.”
“But you owe it to each other to try,” she said.
“I guess. Regardless, the last thing I want is to hurt you. I truly enjoy your company. You make me laugh and forget about my problems.”
“What you need is a friend to talk to.” Kirstin turned to face him. “Tell me what happened when you saw her today.”
“She confessed why she left me. I thought she was having a professional crisis. But it wasn’t like that at all,” he said and filled Kirstin in on what he’d learned about Liz’s fertility problems.
“That’s awful, Jamie. You must be devastated to learn she can’t give you a child.”
He nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. He waited a few minutes until the lump in his throat went away. “No one seems to care how I feel. It’s all about Lizbet. I guess that’s fair, since it’s her body. Naturally, I’m sympathetic toward her, but I resent being kept out of the loop.”
Kirstin stretched out on the other lounge chair. “I’ve never been married, so I have no clue what I’d do in her situation. But the way she handled things doesn’t seem right to me. I guess the bottom line is, Do you still love her?”
“Very much so.” Jamie propped his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, trying to imagine a life without Lizbet in it. During the last seven months, there were times he thought he’d go out of his mind from missing her. But then other times hadn’t been so bad. “I’ll always love her, whether or not we stay together.”
“Do what’s right for you, Jamie. Ask yourself what will make you happy. Will you be satisfied not having children or raising another man’s child if you choose to adopt? If you want to make a clean break, now would be a good time.”
Jamie sat up straight as her words hit home. He appreciated Kirstin’s brutal honesty. Even though he refused to admit it, these questions were already in the back of his mind.
nineteen
sean
Sean left work early on Sunday to take Josh fishing. As he pulled up to the house at Moss Creek, he noticed Cooper painting on the dock. He turned off his engine but remained in his truck, watching his brother attack the canvas with his brush. Cooper typically painted with calculated brush strokes, but today he looked more like a composer directing a lively musical composition. Sean had never seen his brother work with such reckless abandon.
He got out of his truck and walked quietly down the dock so as not to disturb the artist. Cooper, despite the heat, was dressed in heavy green Mountain Hardware pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. His face was covered in sweat. Or were those tears? Sean studied Cooper more closely. His face was twisted in anguish as he dipped his brush and slung more paint onto the canvas. Sean’s gaze shifted to the masterpiece, a series of black and red slashes.
“Cooper! Bro, what’s wrong?”
Cooper startled, and slapped his paint-brush clad hand across his chest. “Geez, Sean! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“If I’d paraded out here leading a marching band, you were so engrossed in your work that you wouldn’t have heard me.”
Setting down the brush, Cooper turned to face him, shielding the painting with his body while wiping his face with his sleeve.
Sean closed the distance between them. “I’m really worried about you, man. We’re twins. Why won’t you talk to me? Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Give it a rest,” Cooper said, his face red with anger. “You sound like a broken record. For the millionth time, nothing’s wrong!”
“Really? Then what’s up with that?” Cooper gestured at the painting.
“I was having a moment. Expressing myself. That’s what artists do.” He removed a hunting knife from his pocket and ripped the canvas to shreds. “There.” He slid the knife back into its leather sheath. “All gone.” He looked up at Sean. “Why are you here anyway? Why aren’t you at the restaurant?”
Sean let out a frustrated sigh. There was no sense in pressing Cooper. He would open up when he was ready. “I’m taking Josh fishing. Wanna come?”
The first flicker of excitement he’d seen from his brother in months flashed in his blue eyes. “Fishing for what?”
“Flounder, I think. Unless you have a better idea.”
Cooper looked out across the marsh. “Tide’s right for flounder. I’m in. I’ll get some gear.” He gathered up his art supplies and headed up the dock toward the guesthouse.
Sean went inside the main house to collect Josh. When they returned a few minutes later, Cooper was waiting for them on the dock with three fishing rods, their tackle box, and a cooler filled with ice. He’d changed into board shorts and pulled his hair back, his man bun protruding from a camouflage baseball cap.
They loaded everything into the boat and untied it from the dock. Sean was behind the wheel with Josh perched on the leaning post beside him and Cooper up front.
As they picked up speed, Sean yelled to Cooper, “Where should we go?”
“The ledge,” Cooper hollered back and gave him a thumbs-up.
Josh tugged on Sean’s T-shirt. “What’s the ledge?”
“An underwater ridge where the fish like to hide when the high tide is falling.” Sean brought a finger to his lips. “It’s our secret fishing hole. You can’t tell anyone about it.”
Josh’s face lit up. “I won’t. I promise.”
Sean navigated through the marsh creeks to the spot. He explained the trolling process to Josh while Cooper got their lines ready. From the minute they dropped their lines, they began catching fish. For the next two hours, Cooper reverted to his old self. He was smiling and laughing and surprisingly patient in helping Josh reel in fish and take them off the hook.
Two hours later, when the fish stopped biting and the cooler was full, they started back toward home.
“I can clean the fish if you want,” Cooper volunteered as they were unloading the boat.
“That would be great,” Sean said. “I need to shower and get back to the restaurant.”
“Can I help clean them?” Josh asked Cooper, bouncing on his toes.
Cooper gave the brim of the boy’s baseball cap a tug. “Sure thing, Champ.”
Champ? Sean could hardly believe his ears. Who knew an afternoon of fishing would work such wonders? Over the past few months, he’d asked Cooper to go fishing many times. But Cooper always had an excuse. Sean should’ve insisted he come along. His brother needed diversions to distract him from his problems. And Sean knew just the thing that would keep him distracted for a good long time.
Back at the marina, Sean spotted Winnie coming up from the dock and did a double take. She looked hot in white cutoff shorts and a blue-striped bikini top. She had an athletic build with tight abs and small but perfectly rounded breast.
Winnie waved at him and called out, “Hey, Sean!”
Her chipper greeting brought a smile to his face. “What’s up? Have you been out on the water?”
“I just got back from waterskiing with some friends.” She gestured to a ski boat down the dock. He recognized the occupants as members of the grade below him in high school.
“That sounds like fun. The weather is incredible. I just got back from fishing.”
When he moved toward the restaurant, she stepped in line beside him. “What did you decide about the puppies? Are you getting one?”
Sean held up two fingers. “One for me and one for my brother. Emmie and Willa if they aren’t already spoken for. I’ve just decided. I haven’t told Oliver yet. I need to text him and send the deposit.”
“Yay!” Winnie said, punching the air. “I’ll help you shop. You’ll need crates and leashes and food bowls. Oliver will send you home with some food, but you should have some treats on hand. Oh! You have to buy one of those snuggle puppies with the beating heart that mimics the mama dog. You can get them from Amazon.”
Sean stopped walking and turned to her. “You’re making my head spin, Winnie.”
Her eyebrows shot up above the rim of her sunglasses. “I know! It’s a lot to think about. But the transition will go more smoothly if you’re prepared. And since you’re getting two dogs, you’ll have to buy two of everything.”
The lines on Sean’s forehead deepened. “I’ll need to figure out where to hide everything from Cooper. I want it to be a surprise.”
“Aww.” Winnie patted her chest. “That’s so sweet. I haven’t met your twin. Does he look like you?”
“Not at the moment. If he’d get his hair cut and shaved his beard, you wouldn’t be able to tell us apart.” Sean started up the stairs to the restaurant.
Hurrying after him, Winnie said, “I can help with potty training. I’ve been watching YouTube videos. I can keep the puppy for you during the day, during your lunch rush. I promise, she won’t be a marina dog. No one will handle her except me. Which one are you keeping? Emmie or Willa?”
While her excessive chatter exhausted him, Winnie’s enthusiasm was contagious. “I’m not sure. Cooper and I will make that decision together. I appreciate your offer to help. I will definitely take you up on it.”
“Awesome! When do you wanna go shopping? You should have everything set when you bring the puppies home.”
“I guess sooner rather than later if I’m getting the puppies next Monday. How about tomorrow afternoon? What say we meet in the parking lot when you get off at three?”
“Perfect! I’ll see you then.” She started back down the stairs.
He called after her. “By the way, don’t mention this to Josh if you see him. No way can he keep a secret this big.”
“Understood,” Winnie said, with a salute before hurrying off.
Sean found Carla in the kitchen, deep in conversation with one of the line cooks. “You two look so serious. Is there a problem?”
Carla’s head jerked up, as though surprised to see him. “No. Everything’s fine. We were just tweaking one of our specials.”
He waited for her to ask him about fishing. When she didn’t, he volunteered, “In case you’re interested, our fishing outing was a success. Josh had a blast. We even got Cooper to tag along. We all caught a bunch of fish.”
Carla leveled her cold eyes on him. “Your brother is a head case. I don’t want my son anywhere near him.”
Sean’s blood boiled, but he managed to hold his temper in check. “Too late. I left them cleaning fish together. They’re getting along well, actually. Maybe they’re kindred spirits.”
Carla’s mouth dropped open, but she quickly composed herself. “Whatever. At least Josh will be tired and won’t notice if I don’t make it home for dinner.”
“Suit yourself. But you’re missing out. Cooper is frying some of the flounder. He’s a pretty good cook. Of course, he’s nothing like the great Carla Grant,” he said, winking at her before disappearing into his office.
What a piece of work she turned out to be. He admired her ambition. He wanted employees who were committed to their careers. But everything else in her life played a secondary role. Including her son. Sean made a mental note to never let his career control his life to such an extreme.
twenty
lizbet
Lizbet and Brooke had been putting Band-Aids on several home maintenance issues since taking over the house after their mother died. All those Band-Aids fell off at once on a stormy Tuesday night, the last full week of May. They were cooking a bake-at-home Margherita pizza when the oven died its final death, and all their proven tricks to restart it failed.
Brooke slammed the oven door shut. “This is just great! I don’t have the money for a new oven. Do you?”
“No. I’m flat broke. But there’s nothing we can do about it tonight. We’ll worry about it tomorrow.” Opening the freezer, Lizbet examined the neat stacks of frozen casseroles delivered by their parents’ friends after their father died. “How does chicken and wild rice sound for dinner?”
Brooke planted a hand on her hip. “How’re you gonna cook it without an oven?”
“In the microwave, duh.”
“That’ll take forever and taste disgusting. I’m not really that hungry anyway. I’ll just have a snack,” Brooke said, rummaging through the pantry. She located a bag of popcorn and left the kitchen for the family room.
Lizbet grabbed two orange sodas from the refrigerator and followed her.
Aiming the remote at the television, Brooke said, “Let’s watch Yellowstone. We’re several episodes behind.”
