CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Lennox
It’d been two weeks since the fiasco with Jolene Dandy at the Yoga Yurt.
But that run-in seemed to do the trick. The woman had become a bit of an island pariah, and steered clear of anywhere she thought me or Mabel might be.
I never saw her at the yurt again, and when I thought I saw the back of her head in the grocery store, I never bumped into her or saw her at the checkout.
Did she see me and run? Or was it just another woman with a salt-and-pepper bob?
Either way, I wasn’t complaining about the lack of Jolene sightings.
The Island Mouth could keep her trap shut and far away from my family.
As eventful as our first couple of weeks on the island had been, the next fortnight fell into a delightful, almost mundane routine that my kid and I welcomed.
Dawn was able to sweet-talk Kyla’s PO in Cedar Bluff, and was keeping tabs on her.
So far, the woman hadn’t left the state and was working as a receptionist at her sister’s salon.
Naomi and I had our standing Wednesday and Friday night dates where we tested the suspension of my truck while parked under the stars on Bonn Remmen’s land.
I was surprised we hadn’t encountered any rain, considering we were in the rainy Pacific Northwest, but she said unlike Seattle, which received unprecedented amounts of rainfall, San Camanez was part of its own little microclimate that experienced warmer weather and long dry spells.
Even Mabel appeared to have settled into a nice, predictable routine—which, as she said, suited her autistic brain very nicely.
Every Wednesday and Friday I dropped her off at Damon’s house on my way to work, and they spent the whole day together.
Damon wanted her to come by more often, but my solitary little genius said she wasn’t ready to add more to her social calendar just yet.
I was proud of her for maintaining her boundaries and knowing what she could and couldn’t handle.
It was Wednesday night, and I’d just picked up Naomi to head out for our date, only this time, we weren’t just going to go park and have sex. I wanted to actually do something—before we had sex.
“Ready to go?” I asked her as she climbed into the passenger seat of my truck.
She looked super cute and sexy in her black overall shorts with a red sports bra underneath.
Her hair, of course, was in twin braids, and she had a few little wisps around her temples and forehead.
Would I be able to last an entire “date” without wanting to ravish her?
Doubtful, but I’d give it my best effort.
“So, you mentioned a date-date,” she said, giving me a curious look. “What does that mean?”
“Don’t you think we should do more than just stargaze and have sex on our dates?” I asked with a smirk.
She shrugged. “I mean, we also talk and eat.”
Damn, she was cute. I squeezed her thigh. “And I love every second of it. But Mabel asked me the other day what we do on our dates, and when I struggled to come up with anything, I realized that we really should try to do more.”
“I suppose …” Her gaze was fixed out the side window. “Are we going down to the dock?”
“I thought we could grab dinner down there, and apparently there is this semi-domesticated seal that you can feed.”
“Yeah, Cammy. She had another pup this year, and has been bringing Squid with her to meet the people who feed her.”
“Cammy and Squid?”
“Cammy after San Camanez, and I have no idea who named him Squid or why.”
“Is the Floathouse any good?” I asked her. “The reviews online seemed to indicate that it’s hit or miss.”
“Flo’s? Yeah, it’s good. It can be a little greasy—the fish and chips and deep-fried stuff, mostly—but everything is tasty.”
“You’re okay going there?” I turned onto the main road that took us down to the ferry terminal and the biggest dock and marina on the island.
Naomi nodded. “Totally.”
According to Jagger, Maverick, and Tom, who I asked for date location help during our Monday night beer and bullshit, there were two other smaller docks, but this one had the most restaurants, the gift shops, and the most amount of tourist traffic.
Since it was midweek and not technically summer yet, we shouldn’t have too much of a wait to get our food or see the seal.
But as Jagger said, once the kids got out of school for the summer and the tourists were coming over in droves, it was best to avoid this part of town if you could.
It was a long, steep hill down to the bay. Vehicles were lined up waiting for the next ferry sailing, but the parking lot for the shopping area and dock wasn’t full. I found us a spot with a view of the marina and parked.
She grinned at me. “So we’re going on a proper ‘out-in-public date’ then?”
“If you’re up for it.”
Pink flooded her cheeks, and she batted her lashes. “I’d like that.” She made to open her door, but I grabbed her arm.
“Wait!”
Her look of confusion was cute, but she paused.
“Stay here for a sec.” I jumped out from behind the steering wheel and raced around the grill, then I opened her door for her and held out my hand to help her climb out. “How’s this for wooing? It’s not a jacket over a puddle, or a rhyming couplet, but—”
The woman was beaming brighter than the evening sun. “Who needs rhyming couplets?”
I laced my fingers through hers, and she glanced down at our intertwined hands. We wore stupidly big smiles and swung our connected hands as we headed toward the ramp that would take us to the dock.
“I think Spencer’s houseboat is down here,” I said.
“Spencer Paxton? Yeah, that’s his cute little red one with the white trim and flower boxes over there,” she said, pointing to the houseboat near the end of a long line of houseboats.
We reached the docks, and she led me toward the floating restaurants.
There was a shipping container converted into a takeout shop called One Fish, Two Fish, and Flo’s Floathouse which was a proper sit-down restaurant.
There was also Crabby Willy’s Crabs and Seafood, but that appeared to just be a place to buy live and dead seafood.
We paused in front of the tanks of live crabs crawling around on each other. “That one looks delicious,” I said, pointing to a big boy with pink rubber bands on his claws.
“Hey, folks,” came a rough and gritty voice before the equally rough and gritty man it belonged to appeared.
He had gray scruff, wild gray and brown hair, and more wrinkles than an elephant.
His eyes betrayed his youth—maybe early fifties?
—but years spent in the sun catching crabs had aged the rest of him quickly.
His brown eyes lit up when he recognized Naomi. “Naomi!”
“Hi, Willy,” Naomi said, giving him a big, genuine smile. “This is Lennox Paul, the new principal at the elementary school.”
I shook the man’s weathered and rough hand.
“You guys lookin‘ to buy a crab for dinner?” Willy asked.
“I think we’re heading to Flo’s for dinner tonight,” Naomi said. “But that guy there looks delicious.” She bent over and pointed to the brown-shelled crab in the corner of the tank.
“Caught him this morning. Can’t get any fresher,” Willy said.
“How’s business going?” she asked him.
“Always busy. Always busy. Between supplying restaurants and selling them myself, I can barely keep enough in stock. So, no complaints. Glad to have my sons home this summer to help me on the boat. How about you guys? Heard the tasting room opened last weekend. Going well?”
“Always a hiccup or two on opening day, but even then, it was a successful weekend. It’s gearing up to be a really busy summer.
Once we get Bonn Remmen’s land developed, we won’t have to turn down the bigger event reservations that keep pouring in.
It hurts my heart to have to refuse large parties. ”
Willy clicked his tongue. “I feel the same when I have to throw back the big guys.”
A couple came up behind us, and they seemed like they wanted to buy some crabs, so we stepped to the side and said goodbye to Willy.
It was a seat yourself style setup at Flo’s, and we managed to snag a two-top table on the patio. I pulled out Naomi’s chair for her, earning myself a big, glowing smile as she took her seat. “More wooing?” she asked.
“Trying to woo. Are you feeling wooed?”
“So wooed.”
I sat down just as a teenage girl wearing khaki shorts and a baby-blue polo that said Flo’s Floathouse on it, approached our table. “Hi, Naomi. Hi, Principal Paul,” she said, flashing us big smiles.
“Hey, Lola,” Naomi said. “How’s it going?”
Lola said she was looking forward to school being done for the year, but nervous about her first summer working at Flo’s and how busy it could get with tourists. I wasn’t quite sure how this high schooler knew who I was until Naomi filled me in that Lola’s younger siblings went to my school.
“They love you,” Lola told me. “Say you’re so cool and nice. And that you actually go and hang out with the kids during recess. Consider my siblings converts and their minds boggled.”
I chuckled at her compliment. “Well, Becky and Brian are great kids. Brian is quite the soccer player, and Becky’s art is impressive for a ten-year-old.”
“He’s going to lose his mind when I tell him you said that.” She whipped out her notepad. “What can I get you guys?”
We ordered some of their “famous” raspberry-mint lemonade and a basket of calamari to share, then looked over the menu when Lola disappeared.
Water rippled below, and I hung my head over the white wooden railing to find what had to be Cammy and Squid swimming around in the placid green water. “Oh, hello there,” I said.
Naomi chuckled as she leaned over as well. “Oh, Cammy, your baby is so cute. But we don’t have any food for you guys right now. I’m sorry.”
“Look at those big, black eyes,” I marveled. “I’ll definitely have to bring Mabes down here. Just not on a weekend, and well before school lets out.”