Track 30 All
Track 30
All
Matt
While everyone else tried to catch up on their sleep, Matt and Maggie walked to the 10 a.m. boat—or more correctly, Matt walked, and Maggie dragged herself a few feet behind him.
“How many hours do you think we slept?” she called out.
Matt laughed as she caught up.
“I left extra time to pick up breakfast and coffee at the market for that reason. And the answer is, maybe three hours.”
“Even when I did sleep, it felt like I had one eye open,” she whined.
“Well, as your grandfather would say, there’s plenty of time to sleep when you’re dead.”
Maggie smiled, and Matt interpreted it correctly.
“Yeah. If nothing else, I am so glad you got to meet Shep. Somehow, the old man is the least messed up of all of them. What a train wreck you walked into.”
“Yes, but family is hard, and maybe they’ve turned a corner.”
“Aaaah. I was curious to see if you would defend them—and you did! I think you’re in too deep to back out now.”
“I don’t know. I was so content in my life before this all happened. I still don’t see why I would upset that.”
“Yes, because when you were young, dreaming of the life you would have one day, you closed your eyes, crossed your fingers, and said I hope I’m content when I grow up.”
“I’ll have you know I did dream up my life when I was little, and aside from the obvious, and the fact that I’m not married to Justin Bieber, it is as I wanted it to be.”
They turned the corner, the ferry dock and market in sight.
“OK, then, maybe I should drop you at the airport on the way to the city, and you can head home.”
“Ugh, home!”
“What about it?”
“I need to call Jason!” The revelation caused her to dramatically plant her hand on her forehead.
“Now what?”
“My phone. I forgot about my phone again. I don’t know what’s come over me.”
“We don’t have time to get it and make the boat. Here. Use mine and I’ll get us breakfast.”
A few minutes later, she was back next to him at the deli counter.
“It went straight to voicemail. I left a crazy-long message,” she said, returning his cell with a sad expression.
“You’ll try him later.”
“Wakey wakey, eggs and bacey?” the guy behind the counter asked.
“Yeah—two BEC SPKs, please,” Matt specified.
“What’s that?” Maggie questioned.
“She’s not from here,” Matt told the guy, then explained to her, “Bacon, egg, cheese, salt, pepper, ketchup.”
“Ketchup?”
“Trust me.”
They ate their sandwiches on the ferry, seated up top on the most coveted bench: a single row facing the others, behind the captain’s deck, which doubled as a block from the sun and wind. Today there was no competition. It was just them. Friday ferry traffic, which packed the boats from port to starboard, was mostly reserved for coming, not going.
Matt watched Maggie take the inaugural bite of her Long Island Bacon Egg and Cheese, her closed-mouth smile signaling total satisfaction. He couldn’t wait to introduce her to more delicious things in the city, and hoped she would be equally enamored. The wind took her hair, leaving a few strands adrift on her lip, where a remnant of yolk sat, imitating glue. Matt gently pushed the strands aside with his finger, suddenly aware that he was using any excuse to touch her.
Long-distance, engaged, and extremely comfortable with lying.
He repeated the roadblocks in his head before committing to keeping his hands to himself.
“Wow, what a good combo,” she gushed.
“Told you!” he said, patting her knee.
He hadn’t made it thirty seconds.
“Speaking of good combos,” she said, “I never asked you how you feel about your mom marrying Jake.”
“I’m cool with it. I mean, it was hard to wrap my head around it at first. If anyone was marrying a Finley, I would have bet on me marrying Dylan. But now, when I see my mom so happy, I’m happy too.”
“They seem perfect for each other, from the little I saw.”
“They are. But when you see how different the city is than Fire Island, you’ll know why I was worried at the start.”