Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Wow, Sam looked really good in that ridiculous T-shirt. She was always so effortlessly casual. She’d caught her voice on the breeze as she’d laughed with a guy fuelling up his boat. Taylor also needed to focus and definitely not still be watching her soon-to-be client walk all the way back up to the shop.
What are you doing Taylor? She’s most likely straight anyway and… it’s meant to be Taylor Time, remember? Or hey, think about Liz. Her eyes narrowed. Yep, just like a bucket of cold water. Right, now back to work.
She was up the mast on the yacht of a new customer by the name of Larry. He was too old to climb up nowadays, so it was up to her to service all the rigging. She wasn’t afraid of heights, but being up a mast wasn’t for the faint of heart. The swaying increased the higher she got, making it feel much more precarious than being high up on solid ground. Even though she was in a harness, she still held on that liiiittle bit tighter.
So far, she’d already found a cracked shackle on one of the halyards and was thankful he’d got her up here before taking the boat out on any further trips.
Still thinking about her chat with Sam that morning, Taylor was surprised she’d gone and spoken with her dad so quickly. That took some balls! Their conversation must’ve meant more than Taylor had originally thought. Didn’t Sam have other friends who would’ve given similar advice before? Surely.
She could tell Sam seemed shaken and slightly upset from all her rambling, but she didn’t know her well enough to know how to handle it. Getting hung up on didn’t feel great, but Taylor knew how she could react in those moments too. Jess definitely knew that all too well.
“How are you getting on, Taylor?” Larry shouted from below, snapping her from her thoughts.
“Almost there!” she called down. She grabbed her phone out carefully and took final photos of everything in detail—the condition of the lines (no fraying, thankfully), the shackles, swages and pins (just a few to replace), and the welds, especially along the spreaders (all clear, no cracks).
She made sure everything was put away and secured, double-checking nothing could fall on her descent.
“Right, lower away Larry!”
She braced herself in the harness, ready to pull through the line as Larry lowered her. With Larry being a seasoned sailor, instead of her bouncing all over the place like she had on other masts, it really was smooth sailing all the way to the bottom.
She was still thankful to be back on solid ground as soon as her feet touched the deck.
“What’s the damage?” Larry asked as he helped her out of the harness. They went through everything that needed to be fixed or replaced, ready for her to quote as soon as she got home.
She’d need an assistant at this rate with all the work that kept piling on. At least having the jobs pop up in the same area helped. She’d have to thank Mr. Stevens for that; it was his initial service on his caravan over in the storage yard that kicked off this string of work.
That was the one downside of working for yourself. Sure you had flexibility, but sometimes you never knew where the next batch of work might be coming from month to month.
Taylor really wanted to work on making a name for herself and building up repeat business. Boats and caravans usually required yearly services at least, not including ongoing maintenance. With a small growing list of repeat customers already, she only needed a few more to reach the goal she’d set herself.
“Garner’s should have one of them in stock,” Larry said, his weathered hand pointing at the picture of the cracked shackle on the screen. “Have you been in there yet?”
“Yeah, awesome shop. I’ve only spoken with Sam so far, and she’s been a great help. I just wish I knew about it sooner with the work I do.”
“Ah yes, Sam is such a lass. Puttin’ up with all us boaties nagging her all the time, yet she always greets us with a smile.”
“She does seem very cool,” Taylor agreed.
“That’s what I’ve been telling my grandson. He oughta stop by the shop one day and ask her to go with him, or whatever you young ones call it now.”
“See each other or go out?”
He waved a hand. “Ah, whatever it is. Be nice to see her with someone other than hanging out at the shop or on that boat of hers. Michael?” he wondered, more to himself than anything.
“Manny,” she corrected, happy to change the subject and definitely not encourage Larry to set up anything with Sam and her love life. Not that it had anything to do with her anyway. She’s just a friend.
“Manny. That’s the one,” he said, clicking his fingers. “Manny and Carol.”
“Carol? Who’s Carol?” Taylor asked.
“Carol is Matt’s boat, err, Sam’s dad,” Larry explained. “Now that’s a fine vessel. Named after his missus, bless her soul.”
Oh. It seemed like sentimental boat names ran strong in the Garner family.
“That’s a beautiful name for a boat,” she replied.
“Yes, very fitting. There’s not many boats I like as much as mine,” he said, patting the mast affectionately, “but that’s one of them. If you ever get the chance, ask for a tour.”
“Will do Larry. Now, time to get to my next job and get you that pricing.”
“Yep, sure thing. Thanks again Taylor; appreciate your work getting up there today.”
“My pleasure.”
Taylor unlocked the door to the sound of puppy paws scooting down the hallway.
“Heeeeey Belle, did ya miss me?” she said, crouching low and giving Belle a good scritch before making her way into the kitchen. There was a note from Jess on the counter.
Grabbed a last minute shift, dropped off lasagne in fridge. Yeah boi!
Excellent. Eating one of her fave meals for dinner and not having to cook? Yes, please! This also meant she’d have enough time to squeeze in a quick late afternoon paddleboard. She eyed the doggie life jacket still strewn over the couch from where she’d thrown it the other day and walked into the living room.
“Hey Bel Bel,” she said, picking up the small flotation device. “Wanna come boarding?”
Belle looked up and tilted her head, her tail wagging furiously.
“Come on then, in the van.” Now those words she understood. She raced to the front door and whined, her entire butt wriggling at the impatience of it all.
“Okay, I’m coming Belle,” Taylor said, laughing. “I haven’t even had time to get changed yet.”
Belle was a natural on the board, just as she hoped she would be, sitting at the front like an absolute champ. She may not like getting her paws wet in the water, but it seemed like being on the water was the way to go.
Taylor hadn’t been paddleboarding in what felt like months. She missed this feeling of being absolutely free out on the water. Now she thought about it, the last time was just before Liz had broken up with her. Had it really been that long?
It was the perfect day for it too. No afternoon sea breeze or waves to contend with, the sun slowly setting along the horizon. Absolute stillness.
She also realised how long it had been since she’d let herself be this alone with her thoughts. No music to spur on the anger or block out the sadness. Just the water lapping under the board, the distant sound of kids on the shore, seagulls arguing above like a raucous Italian family.
Belle came up and lay between her legs now that they’d stopped paddling around. Taylor then lay back against the length of the board, the oar at her side as they floated along together.
Her thoughts drifted to the last time she’d got back from the beach. Liz had seemed annoyed and short with her after she’d got back early. The wind had picked up and had become too much out on the water, so she’d packed up and come home. Walking inside the door had felt like an interrogation. Her shoulders bristled at the memory.
“What are you doing back?” Liz had questioned, like she’d done something wrong just for getting back early. She’d then muttered something about needing to pick up some groceries she’d forgotten, almost shooting out of the house like it was on fire.
Lies. They rolled off the tongue so easily for her.
Why hadn’t she picked up on the signs earlier? She felt so stupid. Instead Taylor would usually chalk up one of Liz’s moods to a bad day at work or something else equally likely.
She also wondered just how long Liz had been seeing Emily. Ugh, even thinking her name was hard enough. She’d been too afraid to ask then and doubted she had the guts even now.
Tears sprung to her eyes at the thought. She squeezed them shut, pressing at her eyelids and letting out a slow breath. What did she do wrong? What made Liz choose Emily over her?
No . Nope. She wasn’t going to go down this spiral again. Not now. Opening her eyes, she looked back out at the sunset, her thoughts flicking instead to bright blue eyes and a smile that lit up the room. She was looking forward to next week, and that was a welcome change.