Chapter Forty-eight – Jack
Chapter Forty-eight
JACK
M y suit jacket and business shirt have been abandoned, spared from a watery grave in the river only by a last-minute decision to fling them into the cabin’s corner instead. Were it winter, they might have met their end as kindling for a bonfire.
I’m sitting on the cabin deck, barefoot, the comically small seagull tee stretched over my chest and my suit trousers rolled up to below my knees, gulping a beer and pondering the shitshow that led me here.
I’ve been under an Andie spell for the past week, ever since she sprinted down the dock and I laid eyes on the constellation of freckles on her nose and her adorable poodle hair. But I’m relieved that the fog has lifted, and I can finally see things for what they are. I’ve been my own worst enemy. When I thought I’d been choosing myself, I was just choosing her. I was like one of the barnacles growing on the side of my cabin, latching onto anything and trying to burrow inside to avoid confronting the loss I still feel so deeply. At thirty-one, I’m starting over again, with barely any money and certainly no plan. My decision about Clam Cove’s oyster farm would have been the same with or without Andie – I couldn’t go through with it. I also can’t cut ties with Pearl Island; I just don’t know how to help or where I belong anymore. I deserve to truly love my life. I was looking for a shortcut through Andie, but I know that I won’t find genuine happiness until Pearl Island thrives again, with hordes of tourists arriving daily and queues out the door of Charlie Farleys. And I have no idea how to make that happen.
Izzie creeps up to sniff my foot.
‘Leave me alone, girl,’ I say, kicking in her direction, and feeling instantly guilty when I accidentally clip her nose. As soon as she scampers off, someone calls out from my front door.
‘Jack!’
Farrrrk . Can’t a man with zero career prospects, zero idea of where he’ll be living in the next fortnight, and zero Andie be left to his wallowing? I groan as I stand up and walk down the side of the cabin to the front.
Charlie is standing under the security light next to a man in his early twenties I don’t recognise, with a suitcase resting at his feet.
‘Mate, it’s the middle of the night. I could have collected that from you tomorrow morning,’ I mutter, trying to rein in my frustration, though I don’t recall making any new airport purchases.
‘No, this is Lena’s,’ Charlie puffs, tapping the suitcase lightly with his foot. ‘Looks like the baby is coming early! We were in Port Hope for a check-up and she was already slightly dilated. The doc decided to admit her rather than risk us coming back here for the night.’
‘Shit! Why didn’t you say so? And what the hell are you doing here? What do you need from me? And sorry,’ – I gesture to the unfamiliar man – ‘but who is this?’
‘I came back to get Lena’s things,’ Charlie explains. ‘This dude was at the wharf on the mainland when I returned to the boat. He was in a bit of a state – said he was Andie’s brother and needed to get to her ASAP, so I gave him a ride over. But now I really have to get going.’
‘Of course, you go!’ I urge. ‘I’ve got this.’
‘Thanks, mate.’
Charlie about-turns and sprints into the soaked night.
‘Good luck!’ I call after him. ‘Keep me updated!’
Once he’s completely out of sight, I turn my attention back to the man in front of me. He has the same amber eyes as his sister.
‘Toby, isn’t it?’ I say, stepping forward to shake his hand.
He nods, looking surprised that I know his name.
‘Jack.’ I introduce myself as he grips my hand firmly. ‘Do you know where to find Andie?’
I wonder why Charlie brought him here instead of Moorings.
‘She’s right here,’ a voice answers, and Taylor steps out of the shadows. Andie is tucked under her arm, shielded from the rain, her cheeks streaked with tears.
‘What’s wrong?!’ I ask, rushing to her side and pulling her from Taylor’s arms into my own.
‘He’s missing,’ she gasps into my shoulder. ‘Dad’s missing.’
I’m not sure if Charlie has taken the river boat or his own, but with no time to waste, we bypass the main wharf and head straight to The Codfather . It’s twice as fast as the river boat anyway.
Through her sobs, Andie tries convincing Taylor to stay on the island, insisting she needs to reconcile with Mitch. Clearly something has shifted between them since earlier tonight. Taylor continues to resist, so I intervene; time is slipping away and we can’t afford to waste it.
‘I’ve got her,’ I say.
She looks at me, narrowing her eyes. ‘Are you sure?’
Perhaps she’s a better friend than I thought.
I nod, my brain screaming over and over: Precious cargo. Precious cargo. Precious cargo.
I drape a blanket around Andie’s shoulders and hand her a lollipop from the stash I’ve bought to keep on the boat permanently. She avoids my gaze.
I start the engine and slowly manoeuvre the boat into the vein of the river. It’s imperative to keep my focus on the water, especially when it’s so dark, but I can’t help stealing glances at Andie and my phone. Before leaving the dock, I sent an SOS message to Keith for back-up, yet frustratingly, it appears not to have gone through.
‘None of mine would send either,’ Toby says, catching my repeated glances at my phone. ‘I tried all evening, calls too. That’s why I had to come here.’
Andie still hasn’t said a word by the time we’ve docked.
I debate whether I should offer to go with them. I want to, but given our last exchange, it doesn’t feel appropriate. The last thing I want is to cause her even more distress.
Her watery, red-rimmed eyes flick up to my face as I help her onto the wharf. ‘Thanks for the ride, Jack,’ she says softly.
Right, that’s definitely me dismissed, then. If only she’d called me Cap, then I would have taken it as an invitation that she wanted me by her side.
I try not to feel upset. The only thing that matters is that her dad is found safe and well.
‘You’re welcome. Let me know how you go, okay?’
She nods, biting down on her bottom lip. I can tell that she’s trying to hold back more tears, and I want to reassure her that she doesn’t have to be strong in front of me – that she’s safe to fall apart. But I say nothing because I know now that she never viewed me that way; I’ve been nothing more than a good time.
Her gaze drops to my chest, and I remember with a mortifying thud that I’m still wearing the ridiculous Notebook -inspired seagull T-shirt. Another tally in the ‘just for fun’ column.
But the shirt was meant as a gesture for her mum, as well as her. It’s the best Charlie had in stock, but I hope she understood the significance – if she even opened the package. Otherwise, I just look like a complete idiot.
‘Thanks, man.’ Toby interrupts my spiralling thoughts, extending his hand. ‘Cross your fingers, okay?’
‘Absolutely everything is crossed.’
He turns to follow Andie, who is already halfway down the wharf, then swivels back and eyes me curiously.
‘Hey, can I ask you something?’
‘Sure,’ I say, slightly taken aback.
‘Do you own an orange tackle box?’
‘Ah, yeah, I do.’
Toby grins, his expression completely out of place under the grim circumstances.
‘Thought so,’ he says.
On the journey back to the island, I run through the countless reasons why it wouldn’t work out between us anyway. At the top of the list is Andie never truly understanding who I was. How is it that I could immediately see what she was carrying and want to lighten her load, but she couldn’t see me? I sorted the bucks’ situation, made her bacon-and-egg sandwiches and did my best to keep her smiling and laughing, yet she struggled to recognise that I was just as adrift as she was, I shouldn’t have had to spell it out for her.
I know I’m better off without her.
So why does it feel like I just dropped off my heart at Port Hope dock?