Max
We’re Boat People
"I can’t believe Mom let you win." My brother sips his coffee across from me, raising his eyebrow.
"It was weird… she just gave up." I fiddle with the menu, opening and closing it. "Do you think she knew Thad was going to be a douche and flirt with that girl? Was she setting me up to help Nora?"
Sam chuckles, shrugging. "I don’t fuckin know, but someone needs to. First it was Charlie, then Brad, Chad, and Thad…"
"Our sister has a problem with men whose names end in ad." Taking a small sip of my coffee, I try not to laugh at her terrible choices.
Sam runs a hand down his face. "No, she has a problem with trying to replace her ‘Patrick’."
"Is that like Olive is your Mabel? You really think that guy was her forever?" I ask.
"Yeah… unfortunately, I do."
Sam’s shoulders slump, and his face twists with sympathy for our sister as Jo, one of the owners at 1793, steps up to our table to take our order.
"What can I get for you today?"
Sam orders, handing her the menu without making eye contact. I think he’s uncomfortable coming here after everything we’ve learned—can’t say I blame him, but their breakfast remains the best in town.
"I’ll have pancakes, bacon, sausage, two eggs, and a side of hash browns." Closing my menu, I extend it to her as she scribbles on a notepad. "Oh, and can I ask you a question?"
"I suppose." Jo’s eyes flick between Sam and me—almost as if she knows we’re involved in her sister’s antics but doesn’t think we’re brave enough to confront the situation.
"Where’s Beth?"
"Vacation." Her response is sure, steady. But I don’t buy it.
"Nah, tell me where she really is. Is she hiding out with Irina? I know they’re both wi—"
"Max!" Sam scolds, shooting daggers at me.
Josephine’s face twists in consternation, but she waves me over and slides into the booth next to me. "I’d appreciate it greatly if you could keep your voices down." She closes her eyes briefly and inhales through her nose. "We have never harmed anyone."
Sam snorts at that, shaking his head in disbelief.
"You disagree?" She challenges him.
"Yeah. My wife had to go to the hospital because of your sister… I wouldn’t exactly call Irina a saint."
Jo grabs my coffee cup, swirling it slightly in her hands—the black liquid turns creamy before my eyes as she takes a small sip and my mouth gapes. For a person who refuses to confirm my suspicions, she’s not trying very hard to hide her powers.
"Olive chased her, and she slipped trying to grab my sister." She flips her hand absentmindedly in the air. "An unforeseen mishap."
Sam grumbles something under his breath before excusing himself to the restroom. While I wish he’d stay, it’s probably for the best that he doesn’t.
"What about Sadie? Why is Beth forcing her to do this stupid puzzle? It doesn’t even mean anything."
Josephine grabs the salt shaker, sprinkles a hefty amount on a small coffee saucer, then snaps her fingers. Watching the salt, I’m not sure what I expect to happen… but it looks the same to me.
A small laugh rolls out of Jo—probably at my expense. "Did you think I was going to show you something special, Maxwell O’Reilly?"
Why is she using my full name? How does she even know it in the first place?
"I, uh, I’m not sure how to answer that, honestly." She makes a tutting noise with her tongue, as if I should have known better, or at the very least, given her a more truthful response.
"Maybe try to be honest. You are the one who came to my diner and questioned me." Jo sips my coffee, clearly not giving a single fuck about stealing it. "Why do you care so much anyway?"
That one is easy to answer, but I hesitate, not knowing how much I should share. "I care about her. Sadie is one of a kind, and I don’t want to see her get hurt."
"I’ve known her longer than you have, Maxwell." Jo places her hand on top of mine, and a shutter rolls through me. My heart rate increases, thumping so loudly I can hear it. "Sadie belongs to us. She’s family. We would never harm her… we only ever aim to help."
She slides out of the booth, my coffee still in her hand.
"That doesn’t answer the question," I blurt out.
Jo spins on her heel, leaning over our table to whisper to me. "Sprinkle some pepper on that plate, and you’ll find everything you need to know."
With that, she scurries away, punching in our order on a computer screen before refilling some coffees for guests seated at the bar. I watch her mill about performing normal tasks as Sam slinks back into his seat, eyeing me suspiciously.
"Couldn’t help yourself, huh?"
I grab the pepper shaker, lightly tapping the base in my palm as I consider testing what Jo suggested. "Nope." Turning it upside down, I sprinkle a fair amount on top of the salt, deciding to go for it.
"What are you—"
The salt and pepper crackle on the plate, bouncing around as if each individual fleck is dancing.
"What is happening?" Sam asks, leaning in to get a closer look.
"I don’t know. She poured the salt and told me to add the pepper to find out what I need to know.
" I pull the saucer closer, staring into the vibrating particles. But just as I’m about to chalk it all up to some odd chemical reaction, both the salt and pepper move to the outer edges of the plate.
And sitting smack in the middle… is a Golden City Flames logo.
I blink rapidly, convinced I must be imagining it. But Sam pulls out his phone and takes a picture. He stares at his screen, and his jaw drops open.
"What?" I reach across the table to grab it, and my hand knocks into a coffee mug, spilling hot liquid all over the table and my lap. "Shit… that’s hot."
My brother spins the device so it’s facing me. But there isn’t a picture of what we both just saw. Instead, it’s one of only my hands wrapped around the very cup of coffee that I just spilled.
Sam and I exchange a look, having an entire unspoken conversation. We need to get the hell out of here, and fast—before anything else bizarre can happen.
Jo rounds the end of the diner’s counter with our plates in hand, but Sam stands and I follow, throwing a few twenties on the table. We don’t walk to leave, rather, we sprint and don’t look back until we’re tucked safely into the cab of his truck.
"Are you going to tell her?" he asks, turning the ignition and barreling out of the lot.
"Should I? She might be mad that I confronted Jo."
Sam taps his fingers on the top of the steering wheel. "Not that… although you have to explain in case she hears about it. I meant that you’re in love with her."
"I’m not in—"
"Yes, you are." He pulls to a stop sign, turning to look at me. "She’s your Mabel. We all know it."
My brother's words hit me like a lightning bolt. I’ve known I’m falling for Sadie.
That’s not a question. But having Sam confirm it, having him acknowledge that she’s my once in a lifetime, makes my heart hurt.
How—if that’s true—am I ever going to let her go?
How am I going to move half a world away?
Walking down the weathered dock at the marina, the boats in their slips bob in the water all around us. Some are gigantic yachts, while others are small skippers meant for fishing. Sadie takes it all in, her gaze lingering on some of the bigger boats like she can’t believe they even exist.
"Is it that one?" Sadie points to a sleek black Benetti that costs more money than I could make in a lifetime.
"Yep." I step toward the ramp that leads to the state-of-the-art boat, and her eyes widen comically. "I can totally afford this on private lessons and the volunteer work I do at the rink."
Sadie laughs, pulling my arm so that I’m forced to step back beside her. "Okay, I can see that was a dumb question. I think I’m a little mixed up after the wedding that was fit for the Duchess of Sussex."
"Who?"
"Nevermind… which boat is yours?"
We mosey a little further until my sailboat comes into view. It’s mid-size, painted a rich navy with amber-stained wood.
"Here she is." I spread my arms out wide, motioning toward the boat. "Got her when Pap passed away. He taught me to sail when I was little, and I loved spending the summers on the water with him."
"Max…" Sadie trails off as she takes it in. "This is beautiful. And so meaningful. Thank you for sharing it with me."
Pulling her into my arms, I kiss her forehead.
"I usually spend the holiday watching fireworks alone. It never felt right to bring someone with me after we lost him four years ago. But I want you to see it. They’re magical when you’re lying on the deck watching the bursts of color float across the sky. "
Sadie squeezes my arm and raises onto her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. There’s always been a height difference between us, but it’s more significant in flip-flops than in the heels she typically wears. "How did you name it?"
My eyes shift to the golden script adorning the stern. To me, she’s always been The Josephine—I never really asked why.
"I didn’t," I start. "My grandfather never discussed the name, only told us it was named after our great-great-great-grandmother."
A whirring breath releases from Sadie’s lips. "Oh, thank God. I was worried for a second that this was another trick. That Beth was going to interfere in our day somehow."
We step up onto the ramp, slipping onto the back of the boat with ease. As I do my pre-checks, my mind wanders to what she said. I’ve never put together the matching names with Josephine from 1793, but after this morning, it seems the woman is a prominent figure in my life—at least today.
Securing the ropes and working to make sure the anchor is pulled up, I watch as Sadie looks around the small interior cabin before making her way to the bow of my boat.
She looks right here, like she belongs. With each steady step she takes, each time she runs her hand along the safety bar that runs the length of the vessel, she seems sure of herself, not afraid of this new adventure.
Sadie finishes her self-led tour, taking a seat in the cockpit next to me as I pull the lines out of their cleats and off their winches—making sure there aren't any bindings in them.
I attach the sails, both main and jib, and turn on the motor after detaching the dock lines to guide us out of the marina.
"You know I saw her today…"
"Who?"
"Josephine." I use the wooden wheel to steer us out into open water, positioning us toward the wind to hoist the sails. "At the diner with Sam. We, uh, talked."
"About pancakes?" Sadie nibbles her bottom lip as she runs her fingers up the main sheet. "She’s not really a talker."
"No, I asked her about her sisters." My gut churns with doubt—I was probably crossing a line. "I confronted her."
Sadie snorts, and deep, belly-rolling laughter escapes her while I sit, mesmerized.
"You didn’t," she manages in between breaths.
The boat leans, and the wind picks up in the sails and propels us forward as ocean spray mists us lightly.
"I wouldn’t say I had any revelations from the discussion. She’s very cryptic." I run a hand through my hair—the wind is whipping it wildly. "She performed some magic tricks for me, though."
"There’s literally no way that’s true. I’ve known her my whole life, and never once did she give me any sign that she was a witch."
"Neither did Beth, but here we are."
Sadie crosses her arms over the white tank top she’s wearing. "Well, then… what did she do?"
Reaching out, I pull her into my lap and put her hand on top of mine to help me steer. Her peach scent surrounds me, and I nuzzle her neck briefly. "She stole my coffee and somehow made creamer appear in it with a single swoosh of her hand—"
"Did you drink it?"
"No." That makes me chuckle. I’m a risk-taker, but I’m not insane. "She did, though. And then she poured salt on a plate and told me to add pepper so the things I needed to know would be revealed."
Sadie hums, clearly intrigued. "And what was the big surprise?"
My heart sinks. When Sam dropped me at home to change and prepare for this date, the only conclusion I could make is that the Flames logo means Sadie is leaving soon.
I knew it was coming, but I think it’ll be quicker than we expected.
While we’ve both been aware that she has a little less than two weeks left on her leave, something in my soul knows it’s probably more like days.
"The logo for the Flames, and subsequently, a hot ass cup of coffee spilled on my lap." I tickle her side, choosing not to share my suspicion and ruin the day. "I guess she just felt like taunting me with the one dream I’ll never achieve."
"I’m sorry, Max."
Sadie has nothing to apologize for. She didn’t ask for any of this, and I tell her as much.
We continue sailing, basking in the warm breeze as it coasts across us.
The saltwater splashes the side of the boat in a rhythmic beat.
I’ve never felt as at peace as when I’m out here—away from any sign of worry or disappointment.
Approaching the area where boats park for the fireworks show, the water becomes crowded.
There’s everything from yachts to small schooners and speedboats, all angling for the best view.
I steer us toward the far left side, toward an uninhabited island that sits back just enough to still enjoy the view but not get stuck in traffic when the show is finished.
Sadie has moved from my lap and is now sitting opposite me.
"Okay, so we are going to be running soon, with the wind at our backs. When that happens, this thing"—I tap the boom that sits under the mainsail—"is going to swing toward you. I will tell you when it’s coming, but you should either duck or come over to my side before it happens."
Sadie nods, eyeing the large pole that runs parallel to the boat. "I’ll duck."
I adjust the sails, and when I’m ready, I grab the wheel to turn the boat. "Okay, it’s happening. Make sure you duck."
"I changed my mind—"
Sadie stands at the exact moment the boom swings hard in her direction. The metal pole slams into her chest, and the last thing I hear is the sound of her scream before her body plummets into the ocean.