35. John
35
JOHN
A week after the purchase of the boat, I invite June and Jack to Sleepy Slip. The boat is still docked in slot number eighteen, and I watch as they maneuver their way around fishers and boaters to get to me. Neither looks particularly thrilled, but I appreciate the effort they make to meet me here.
I’ve planted myself midship as they approach, hoping to convince them that the structure is stable even as it gently sways.
“I still can’t believe you bought this,” Jack remarks as he takes in her weathered structure facing starboard.
“Let alone stand on it,” June adds.
I snicker. “I promise it’s not so bad.”
“Whatever you say,” Jack mutters.
“Hear me out. The boat is tied securely to the dock, and it’ll stay that way.” I motion to the picnic basket at my feet. “I brought a bottle of wine and some dinner for us to enjoy.”
June’s eyes widen when I open the lid. “Is that pie from Slice of Life?”
I wink. “Sure is.”
She scoffs. “You don’t play fair.”
I chuckle and hold out my hand for her to join me. She teeters a bit before finally taking hold of my fingers. She has a death grip on me as she carefully places her foot on the gangway to step down on the boat deck. I let go when I think she feels secure enough. “See, that’s not so bad.”
“It’s only because of the pie,” she teases.
I glance over her shoulder to Jack, who looks a bit green, and now I feel bad for even suggesting this outing. “You can bow out if it’s too much?—”
“No, I’ll be good. Baby steps and all that. I just didn’t know how it would make me feel,” he admits.
June’s expression softens. “I think the idea is to help this sting less for all of us. Being together helps because it’s definitely hard.”
Suddenly Jack steps toward the gangway, gives a little hop, and then he’s standing in the boat as if he had to go for it or he’d chicken out. I don’t blame him for holding on to the grab bar as he gets his bearings.
“Okay?” I ask, and he nods.
“Let’s get more comfortable,” I suggest, motioning toward the cushioned bench. June sits beside me, and Jack plants himself right next to where he was standing.
Trying to keep things casual, I talk about adding a Halloween-themed party at the Witching Hour this coming fall as I unpack the picnic basket. June helps me with the pasta salad while I hand the bottle and opener to Jack to help distract him.
“It’ll be fun.” I eat a forkful of food. “You’re not required to dress up, but Seth suggested decking out the bar with spooky decorations.”
“Right up his alley,” Jack remarks as he pops the cork.
“Plus, you gotta capitalize on the name of the bar.” June holds out her plastic cup so Jack can fill it with wine. He pours ours next, and then I hand him a plate.
“This isn’t so bad,” June says as the boat sways gently. “I forgot how pretty the view is out here.”
“I hoped it would help you focus on the good memories.”
“It does.” She glances at our brother, who’s busy finishing the last of his wine. “How about you, Jack?”
“I’ll admit this was a good compromise. Not sure I’ll ever be ready to go for a ride…”
“I’m not there yet either,” I reply. “And I know how ridiculous that sounds, but step by step.”
Jack nods. “It’s just that every time I think about them being out there…”
June grips his arm. “I know, me too.”
“Me three.” I stare beyond the break wall. “But in a way, it also makes me feel closer to them. Is that strange?”
“No.” June’s eyes fill with unshed tears. “I understand what you mean.”
Jack sighs. “Not a bad way to look at it.”
We sip and eat and make small talk, and it ends up being a pleasant evening with my siblings that I will always treasure.
As I dish out the pie slices, Jack says, “I think we figured out what to do with the space in town.”
“What?” June asks around a bite.
He waves his fork. “Sort of like a lifestyle shop with my framed photos and the furniture Aaron restores, and maybe local artists’ wares.”
“I love that idea,” June exclaims.
I grin. “Like the Pottery Barn of small towns.”
June flutters her eyelashes. “Does that mean you’re going to put me to work at the shop?”
Jack winks. “You are the go-to employee when we all need you.”
“I’d be happy to help.”
“Me too,” I add.
As dusk sets in, we hug and say our goodbyes.
“You’re not coming?” June asks.
“Turns out I like watching the sunset from the boat.”
Jack thumps my shoulder. “Maybe next time.”
“Sounds like a plan. Thanks for joining me.”
I watch them walk off hand in hand before turning back to the horizon. As the sky grows darker, I lift my phone to snap a photo. I finally understand Micah’s draw to this place. I consider sending him the pic but change my mind. Soon. First, I need to get my boating license and learn how to dock and drive this thing beyond the break wall.
My plan is to eventually tell him. Maybe after he moves out of his apartment and buys something of his own. I would offer to haul the boat to him—no chance in hell I’d be brave or experienced enough to cruise there. Christ, just the idea of it scares the shit out of me.
I pour myself the last of the wine and head to the bow for the best view. I sit with my legs crossed, sipping and watching as the sky transforms into an impressive array of watercolors.
I’m startled by a gasp from behind me. I turn and nearly drop my wine.
“Micah?” It feels like I’m dreaming, and for a split second, I wonder if I’ve fallen asleep. “What are you doing here?”
“I…came back to tie up loose ends and had the sudden urge to see her. I know she doesn’t belong to me anymore, but I thought a chance meeting with the owner might help reassure me she’ll be well cared for.” He lifts a foot to the gangway. “Why are you on my grandfather’s boat?”
I hold out my hand. “Hi, I’m the new owner of the boat, and I’ll absolutely take good care of her.”
“You…what?” He grips his chest and inhales sharply. “Why would you do that?”
“Dunno, exactly. Just felt like something I needed to do.” I watch as he plants his feet on the deck. “It felt…right.”
His eyes are wide and searching as he grips the handrail and maneuvers to the bow. “But you don’t even like?—”
“You helped me appreciate being out here again. I don’t have my license yet, so I’ve only been showing up to watch the sunset and sometimes the sunrise.”
He blinks as if he can’t make sense of anything I’ve just admitted.
I set the plastic wineglass beside me. “The truth is, being here makes me feel closer to you—and them.”
“Them?” Micah sets down his bag and squats to eye level.
“My family. Maybe that’s macabre, but?—”
“It’s beautiful.” Our gazes catch and hold. “ You’re beautiful.”
I screw my eyes shut as the ache in my chest intensifies.
“I still don’t understand why you’re here.” My voice is ragged as I try to control the emotions bombarding me. “Is this about the divorce? I haven’t been served yet, so I wasn’t sure?—”
“Looks like you might have something to add to the financial disclosure form,” he teases.
That hadn’t even occurred to me. “Suppose I just thought this was me holding on to the boat—for you. So, technically, she still belongs to…us.”
“Fuck, John.” He shifts to his knees, his expression filling with anguish. “You don’t know how much this means to me. I’m afraid I made an absolute mess of everything.”
I want to reach for him and tug him against me, but I hold back. “What do you mean?”
He motions with his hand. “By leaving behind everything that’s important.”
“Are we talking about the boat?”
“And the house. But most of all, you.” He dips his head. “I’m so fucking sorry for making your life miserable.”
“Babe, we’ve been through this. None of this has been intentional.”
“No, but…” He puffs out a breath. “Being back in LA made me realize…that I don’t want to be without you anymore.”
“Neither of us ever wanted that.” My heart thumps wildly. “But life is more complicated than that. Love is too.”
“Maybe it shouldn’t’ve been.” He briefly balls a fist, then releases it. “I could never fully fathom that my family has a history here. I never felt like I was part of that legacy. But cleaning out my grandfather’s house made me appreciate him more, appreciate this place.”
“I’ve always hoped you’d get to that point. After all, you kept your family name, even if you thought it was for different reasons.” When his lips part, the tightness in my chest lifts briefly. “But nothing I said seemed to convince you that you belong here.”
“You’re right. I couldn’t see it. Or, at least, I wouldn’t let myself see it.” He stares into the distance. “Then it hit me that I don’t belong in LA either.”
I frown. “No, I don’t believe you do.”
His eyes spring to mine. “Why didn’t you tell me that? You made it seem like I needed to leave in order to?—”
“Because you do belong in theater in some way, shape, or form.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Your acting is great, and LA has the most opportunities to help fulfill your dreams.”
“Maybe those dreams have changed. Or were misplaced to begin with.”
“Not sure I follow. What about the part in Cold Blade ?”
He averts his eyes. “I turned them down.”
“What?” I straighten at the news. “Why? Isn’t that what you always wanted?”
He shakes his head. “I thought it was. Turns out I was wrong.”
I brush a trembling hand through my hair. “I…don’t know what to think.”
Micah is silent for a long moment before his gaze meets mine again. “I realized that I feel the most peace and contentment when I’m with you.”
“Micah…”
“Please, let me finish.” His breathing is labored as he tries to get his thoughts together. “I feel similarly when I’m on this boat or fishing. But the most unexpected revelation I’ve had is that working with Ms. Hart and those kids was deeply fulfilling.”
“I could tell it was,” I reply in a hoarse voice. “But I didn’t think it fit with your goals in LA.”
“I thought I had something to prove. That I had to make it in Hollywood.” He grimaces. “Because if I didn’t, then leaving you wasn’t worth the risk.”
“Babe, you didn’t need to prove anything except that you were going after your dream, no matter the outcome.”
“Yeah, maybe, but I jeopardized this.” He motions between us. “Our life together. And I hate that I ruined that for you. All these years, I’ve grieved what we once were.”
“Hey, I made my own decisions. We were in this together.”
Micah sits heavily beside me, and we fall into silence, each lost in our thoughts. I lift my wine and down the rest of it. I grieved us too, but now I want to embrace whatever this has the potential to be, even if it terrifies me.
“So what now?” I’m finally brave enough to ask. “You sold your grandfather’s house?—”
“Technically, no. The house can’t close because there’s a hitch. That’s the reason I’m in town.” He eyes me. “Well, one of them.”
“What sort of hitch?”
“The title can’t be transferred to the buyer if there’s a property dispute that hasn’t been legally resolved.”
“Dispute?”
He arches a brow. “Remember the leaf-burning neighbor?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep. Filed a complaint about the property line, and it never got decided.” He smirks. “Can’t help thinking Grandpa is interfering again.”
I huff out a laugh. “I regret not thinking he had it in him.”
Micah grins. “Maybe his bark wasn’t worse than his bite.”
“So if the house isn’t closing…”
“That means I still own it. I plan to speak to Chuck about it. Rocco too.”
“Are you sure about all this?” It’s too difficult to even accept Micah is here right beside me, let alone that he’s considering staying. “What if the same problems creep up? You don’t have a plan when it comes to your career?—”
“I do, actually,” he blurts. “It involves revising what success and contentment mean to me. Fishing again, maybe teaching theater in some capacity—or at least being involved in smaller productions in the general area. If Ms. Hart was able to make a career of it, then maybe I can too.”
“Fuck, Micah, you have thought this through. You sound surer of yourself than I’ve ever heard you.” My eyes sting, and I blink rapidly, willing the tears away. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”
“I’m sorry I’m springing all this on you.” He grips my arm. “I don’t even know if you’re willing to give us another chance after all I?—”
“How can you think I wouldn’t? I hurt you too. I didn’t fight for you or go with you. I have my regrets too.” I knot our fingers together. “I bought this boat and thought maybe…hell, I don’t know. Maybe I would go to you, ask if I could stay. Sell my bar, even. I’m fucking lost without you.”
He breathes out, and his eyes soften. “I don’t ever want to be away from you again.”
The words are a balm to my soul. But then I remember… “What about the divorce papers?”
He roots around in his bag and pulls them out. “I brought them in case I was wrong. In case you wanted to be the one to file them.”
Even the thought makes me clench my teeth. “Never.”
“So maybe they need to be torn up?”
On impulse, I reach for them, and we rip them in half together. “Whew, that felt good.”
“It did.” His smile is mesmerizing. “I love you so fucking much.”
“Come ’ere.” I pull him closer and kiss his temple. “I love you too. We’ll figure the rest out together.”
He buries his face against my shoulder. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”
I cup his jaw, forcing him to look at me. When our eyes meet, I tap our mouths together, and it feels like the universe has set itself right again. We press closer with lips and tongues and hands as if we can’t get our fill.
And then we stay there, discussing the details of Micah’s return, sharing hopes and dreams, and enjoying each other’s company like we always have. Eventually, he lays his head on my lap, and I relish the feel of his silky waves as I run my fingers through his hair.
“I figure Beth was wrong about us,” he murmurs.
“How so?”
“We’re not the sun and the ocean.” He steals a glance. “I’m the ocean, and you’re the moon.”
“Why is that?”
“Because the moon has a gravitational pull on the ocean. And no matter how far I’ve spun away, you’ve always brought me center.”
I kiss the top of his head. “Home is where you always needed to be.”
“Home is you.” Micah’s fingers find mine, and he laces them together. “I’ve always been sure of that. Sure of you.”