Chapter 14
My alarm makes me angry, but I roll out of bed to feed Whiska, who doesn’t even come out of his bed. I got out of mine; he could have done the same.
But whatever. Still, I leave him food.
The coffee I brew is shitty, but after I douse it with creamer, maybe it’s mildly okay. I sit and wait, all groggy and feeling disagreeable. When I hear noise coming down the gravel road, I can’t help but smile.
The slick Subaru Solterra arrives. Black on black, she’s super sexy. I’m not usually much of a car girl, but even I’m drooling when I see this baby.
Dave made fun of my Acura, but it was nearly the ancient category, so I don’t feel terrible about replacing it with something like this cool beast that can surely plow through snow. And while I’m not going to be here forever, it’s still a good vehicle for a New Englander.
After I sign a thousand papers and my old car is towed off, I hop in. It takes some time to figure out this new ride. I actually read through much of the manual and set up all the Bluetooth stuff. Then my new car and I drive into town. For the first time, I’m feeling something similar to okay.
While this is definitely a fishing village, it’s not quite as quiet as I thought.
There are a number of restaurants and shops, and I see how it could actually be a lovely vacation spot.
After I carefully park and walk the cozy streets for a bit, I understand why it’d be easy to spend hours exploring.
When I turn a corner to face the water, I also see that David’s food truck is going to be worth waiting for, given the line. Always a good sign. As I get in line, I notice a rather adorable Free Book stand set up, a painted shelf stocked with children’s books.
After waiting for twenty minutes behind hungry fishing guys, I place my order. It’s a hot minute before he realizes it’s me, but Dave just nods.
“Up in a few.”
He’s maybe unnerved to see me? I’m not sure. He certainly didn’t seem excited, but he’s probably just in the throes of cooking like mad.
When my number is called, there is way more food than I ordered.
Dave gives me a reassuring wink before he rushes back inside the truck and calls out to his assistant, “Eric, more orders up!”
I’ve got zero clue how I’m going to carry all this—nonetheless eat it—but apparently someone else can see my panic.
“Need some help?” A woman with thick, dark French braids peels off thick gloves.
“I really could,” I say gratefully.
Together, we carry trays to a large table, and it’s then I notice her obviously waterproof overalls and big boots.
“Oh, you work on a lobster boat, yes?”
“I do.”
Before she can say more, Dave’s assistant yells out. There are now two more trays to collect, and the smells are killing me. Bisque, all the fried seafood, shrimp and scallop wontons, baked oysters loaded with spinach and Parm, and mussels in red wine broth. We both pivot.
“What has he done?” I ask as I wobble back and follow her to the table. The spread is insane. “I can’t eat all this.”
“Don’t worry. It’s for all of us.”
She does one of those cool whistles between her fingers that I could never master, and suddenly, all these big dudes just come running. I have to laugh. All of them are wearing the same kind of gear she is, and they fill the picnic table.
“Lobster guys?” I ask.
“And fishermen.”
“Dave told me how they never get sick of seafood, and I didn’t believe it,” I muse. “Now I do.”
“Heya! More tartar sauce!” someone calls out.
After my savior downs an oyster, she looks at me with a little grin. “You must be Diana.”
“I am.”
“I’m Anjanette. And go ahead and film this shit.” Before I can even pause for a heartbeat, she smiles. “I know who you are. They also do.”
So, I film. Only because this beautiful spread has to be shared. And when the guys see me with my phone up, they holler to be on camera as they gulp down everything, and I laugh when they demand more food from Dave’s truck.
“What? No lobster rolls this time? Made too many for your girl before?”
While I try not to look back, I can’t help it, and I see Dave slightly blush as he scrambles away.
I guess I’m the girl they’re referring to?
After too many platters come out and I’ve bought the guys a few rounds of beer, they begin talking, and I learn a bit about this small town and life on the water. Sure, I’ve watched my share of documentaries, but that’s nothing like being with these guys in person. And so I have questions.
I throw back an oyster as I scan the muscular and sort of beat-up crew before I ask, “Why do you all keep doing what you do? From what little I know, this is a brutal, scary business. Like, it’s not as though anyone can even go to school to get into this world.
It’s always a family thing. You guys are raised to do this, right? ”
“Damn straight. It’s family to the core. Or we bring in young and eagers and train them. I’m Jimmy.” He holds a hand over the array of food to shake mine.
“Pleasure,” I say.
This Jimmy guy, with a shaved head and a jovial smile, pulls a scrawny kid against his chest. “This here is Smallie. Knows nothing, but he wants to learn how to survive in this hardcore life.”
I nod my head at Smallie, and then I learn about the rest of his crew.
Jacob, a giant of a guy who looks like a linebacker, is divorced and has been in this wild world for thirty-four years.
Flynn reminds me of Alan Ritchson of Reacher fame—he’s that huge of a human.
These two guys are physically intimidating.
Odum—early thirties, bald, and his first baby due in a month—shows pictures, and I swoon, of course.
And I also think of Patrick and his baby and lost baby.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” I say.
Anjanette gives a slight snort. “They saw how Dave’s IG blew up when you tagged him, and they’re now all fascinated with social media stuff. These guys love the idea of being filmed.”
“It sounds like I’m looking for content,” I say, “but you guys are truly great.”
“No, I get it. Film away.” Anjanette laughs as I take pictures of her finishing off oysters and scallops. “Your account isn’t like that. You like the real deal.”
“I do.” And I appreciate that she sees that. “So, you all look a bit beat up,” I say as gently as I can. “You’re flashing bruises, obviously tired, and you must be sore as shit.”
“My arms are killing me from pulling in and throwing out traps. But that’s every day.” Jimmy chows down and keeps talking. “Weather tomorrow morning sounds even too brutal for us, but I’m still hoping to head out. And, yes, we’re all hurting. Right, boys?”
For some reason, they all ironically cheer and laugh.
“So, why do you choose this?” I ask, incredulous. “It’s a hard fucking job, isn’t it?”
Flynn stands up, and I manage not to back away despite his intimidating size. “Why lobster boats? Why this life? It chooses most of us. We grew up with this. It’s in our blood. Our family.” He grabs another fried oyster, swallows, sucks his fingers, and grins. “A generational passion, if you will.”
Jacob and Odum show me bruises from their morning. One has a black eye, the other a pretty solid laceration on an arm, both of which they present proudly before going back to their food.
Jimmy winks at me. “Told ya, we love this shit. We live for it.”
Odum pops up from his seat. “You’re gonna post about us?”
“I certainly will,” I assure him. “If you like.”
These guys are the best, and they’re exactly why I started my accounts years ago.
Later, just before I step off to explore the shops, I waltz by Dave’s truck and catch his eye.
Dammit, he’s so cute. So sort of ideal in every way.
His little wink is friendly and kind. A wink with no expectations. The wink I need right now. But I still have to pull myself away.
Yet I can’t stop looking at him, even when he looks away.
It’s so charming how local residents come out for his food, but they are then enticed by the library. They’re not looking for books, just here for the food, but then Dave leans over, pulls up a paperback or two, and raves about the stories even as he’s cooking.
But then his attention is sort of inexplicably captured and held by a father-and-son duo who are waiting in line. Dave suddenly swears and raises his hand in pain.
Anjanette is now by my side, and she apparently saw what I did. “What in the hell? Did he just burn his hand on the grill? That never happens.” Her voice is somber as she watches Dave tend to his burn.
Then she changes her tone and backs us away and toward the little group of shops in town. “Taking Diana shopping,” she yells out happily. But it’s a false happy, and I see her glance back with concern more than once.
She tries to smile at me playfully. “I blame you for that burn.”
“You blame me?” I ask as I try to keep up with her pace.
Anjanette finally stops in front of a cute local shop, and she smiles.
“So sorry. Never have I ever seen Dave distracted by a girl, but holy, holy … he could not keep his eyes off of you. It’s why he lost focus for a second and burned himself on the grill.
But I freakin’ love that burn! Just didn’t want him to get another. ”
I don’t know what to say, how to respond. Because she’s not right.
But I trail after her. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off of me?”
“Why would you be surprised?” She laughs with such affection and gently sets a hand on my shoulder.
“These wildly rich red curls that fucking cascade over your shoulders and down your back? Like, no makeup? Just being naturally beautiful? You sauntering around in this green cardigan and cozy pant matching set like you rolled out of bed so pretty? I’d say we’re all obsessed.
” Anjanette giggles and bounces ahead, leaving me stunned and speechless.
I’m the most plain Jane ever, so I have no idea what she could be talking about. No one could be looking at me.