Chapter 37 Day 5, At Sea #2
Tay glances up. For a second, I catch something—haunted, flickering—before she masks it with a shrug.
“I don’t know.”
I want to ask about her family, where she grew up, but instead I look down and refocus on the garland, giving her space to circle back if she wants to.
A few minutes pass in quiet rhythm.
“Can you see yourself not living out of a suitcase? Like, is there some desk job—same company, fewer hotel rooms?”
Tay snorts. “God, I couldn’t do a desk job. I’d lose my mind. Tied to a chair, under fluorescent lighting, answering emails from Janet in accounting? No thank you.”
I laugh, and she grins.
“What would you do?” I press.
She hesitates. Her eyes dart to the balloon arch, then back to the balloon in her hands. “I mean… I’ve sort of been thinking—just thinking, not planning—about opening a bookstore-slash-wine bar.”
I blink. “Wait, what?”
Tay shrugs like it’s nothing. “Somewhere quiet. Cozy. Books, wine, maybe some live music on Fridays. Nothing big.”
There’s a forced lightness to her voice, like she’s trying to play it off. But her hands have stopped moving. She’s not tying anything. Just holding the half-inflated balloon in her lap.
“And you’ve been saving?”
She nods, one shoulder lifting. “A little. You know. For when I’m ready.”
But a few minutes later, she shifts gears—sort of.
“You’re a business owner. Tell me how you got started. I want to know everything. Your whys, your hows… “
“Well,” I begin, reaching for the last strand of fairy lights, “it started with TikToks. Silly ones—organizing the boys’ room, labeling their LEGO bins. One year, I totally redid the kitchen, bought these cabinets from IKEA, reorganized everything.”
“You did it yourself?”
“Beckett wanted to help, but I insisted he video me doing it.” God, my followers loved that.
“At first, the whole thing felt like a hobby. Something to do during nap time that made me feel… competent. But then a few of the videos kind of took off. And the wild thing? The actual business part wasn’t even my idea. ”
I pause, smiling at the memory.
“There was this woman—Carrie from Boston—who messaged me and asked if I’d help organize her condo. She had this tiny walk-in closet and a serious shoe problem.”
Tay snorts. “I like her already.”
“I didn’t even think it was real at first. But she paid me. We posted about it, of course, and it all snowballed from there. I kept posting, kept helping people locally, and eventually, it wasn’t just a side hustle anymore.”
Tay tilts her head. “So how’d you scale it?”
I hesitate. “Beckett got these bonuses…”
Regulatory scrutiny.
The words won’t leave me alone.
Tay exhales, a quiet breath like she’s bracing herself.
“Hey… after what you said last night, there’s one more thing I feel like I should say.”
Something in my stomach twists. It’s not what she’s saying—it’s how she’s saying it. Careful. Measured. Tay’s not usually one to dance around her words.
Is she about to tell me I’m being selfish? Gullible? That I’m in denial?
“If you’re being abused—emotionally or physically—just toss everything I said about patience and waiting right out the window.”
My whole body jolts.
“No.” The word rips out of me. “God, no. Never.”
I’m already shaking my head, heart pounding. “Beckett would never—it’s not—he’s not like that.”
She watches me for a long beat, face unreadable. Then she nods slowly.
“Good,” she says gently. “Because I’m hopeful for you two. There’s something special there. Everyone sees it.”
“I’m hopeful too.”
But that’s enough soul-baring for one morning. I reach for another balloon and turn back to glance at the clock.
“But you and I need to get serious if we’re gonna throw the all-time best bachelorette party for my little sister.”
“The best?” Tay snorts. “It will definitely be the most memorable.”
“Right?” I laugh. “I love that my sister doesn’t discriminate. Our guests’ ages range from twenty-six to sixty-nine.”
Tay grins. “And one of those sixty-nines is packing a flask in her clutch. I guarantee it.”
And now for my favorite part. “Let’s get these guest gifts and prizes put together.” I gesture to the table. “I’ve got glow stick rings, drink charms, and some heart-shaped sunglasses. Nothing too scandalous.”
Tay just grins, eyes gleaming. “Well…” She crosses the room and unzips a small rolling suitcase I don’t remember seeing before.
“These will keep things from getting dull.”
She peels back the lid, and before I can even guess, she’s pulling out a plastic-wrapped—oh!
Oh wow.
“Are those what I think they are?”
“And more!” Tay squeals a little.
The next second, I’m holding my stomach to keep from doubling over as she starts pulling out and tossing things onto the bed like she’s dealing cards at a particularly scandalous poker table.
There’s a glitter-pink one shaped like a dolphin. A purple one that curves like a candy cane. One with two ends, that I didn’t realize was an actual thing. And a neon green model that comes with what appears to be a remote control.
“This one’s called the Jet Setter,” she announces with pride, holding up something sleek, black, and... frankly intimidating.
“Did you go through security with these?” I’m trying to picture the TSA agents’ faces, while Tay just grins.
“They were way more embarrassed than I was.” Tay doesn’t even blink.
“You—”
“Just kidding. I checked them.”
“Hilarious.” I chuckle, and then widen my eyes when I see the price tag on the one in my hands. My sister really does have good friends. “Tay. These are like... the luxury line. You brought the Cadillacs of dildos.”
“Well, Luna’s only getting married once. Might as well go full throttle.”
But even as I’m shaking my head, I reach for one of the boxes—fascinated and maybe a little impressed by the engineering involved. Who designs this stuff? NASA?