CHAPTER 22
Marina
The applause followed Marina backstage. She slipped behind the curtain, her heartbeat still matching the rhythm of the music as she closed the dressing room door behind her.
For a moment she simply stood there, breathing. Then, little by little, Mara disappeared.
She unpinned her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders, then changed back into her bartending clothes.
One cotton pad after another wiped away the heavy stage makeup until the woman in the mirror looked familiar again. Just Marina.
A knock sounded on the door.
"It's open,” she answered.
Ben leaned in, holding up a white paper bag. "Delivery."
This surprised her. "For me?"
He grinned. "Your boyfriend dropped it off."
Marina laughed. "I don’t have a boyfriend."
"No?"
Ben stepped inside and handed her the bag. "Could've fooled me."
She opened it. The aroma reached her immediately. Ravioli.
“He said to tell you it’s the one with the pink sauce.”
Her favorite from Girasole. Ryan and Katrina must have gone there.
Something warm settled in her chest. They'd gone out to dinner together, yet somehow they had still been thinking about her.
She looked up. "When did he stop by?"
"About fifteen minutes ago." Ben leaned against the doorframe. "Asked if you were around. I told him you were getting ready to go on."
"Did he come by himself?"
Ben nodded. "Far as I could tell."
Marina felt herself relax.
Good. At least Ryan had kept his promise.
"Thanks." She picked up the plastic fork and took a bite. The ravioli was still warm.
Ben smiled. "I'll leave you to it."
"Thanks."
He headed back toward the bar, leaving her alone in the dressing room.
Marina took another bite and smiled to herself. Your boyfriend dropped it off.
Ben was just teasing, but it made her happier than it probably should have.
She caught herself smiling again.
Careful.
Tomorrow he would drive back to San Jose, and everything would go back to normal.
She finished the last bite of ravioli, folded the empty container closed, and set it aside.
There was still a bar full of customers waiting. Taking one last sip of water, she opened the dressing-room door and returned to the bar.
The rest of the shift passed in a blur. By the time she finally headed home, the town had gone quiet.
The house was dark except for the glow of the television spilling across the living room.
Marina slipped her key into the lock as quietly as she could. She eased the door open, expecting the familiar silence. Instead, she found Ryan and Katrina asleep together on the couch.
Ryan was slouched against one armrest, one arm loosely around Katrina's shoulders. Katrina had curled against his side, her head resting on his chest. Some late-night talk show flickered across the television, the volume turned so low she could barely hear it.
A smile tugged at Marina's lips. They'd waited up for her.
The floor creaked beneath her shoe.
Ryan stirred first. His eyes blinked open, unfocused for a moment before finding her.
"Oh." He rubbed a hand across his face. "You're home."
Katrina woke a heartbeat later, rubbing her eyes sleepily. "What time is it?"
"Late," Ryan mumbled.
Marina set her keys on the entry table. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"We weren't waiting," Ryan said with a sleepy smile. "We just... fell asleep watching TV."
She laughed softly. "I figured."
Katrina stretched, arms over her head. “How was work?”
“Fine.” Marina shrugged out of her jacket and hung it on a hook by the door. “Bit busy, but just a normal Saturday night.”
She looked at Ryan, a small smile forming. “Thanks for dropping off dinner. That was a nice surprise.”
Ryan glanced at Katrina. “It was Katrina’s idea.”
Marina’s eyes shifted to her sister. “You guys really didn’t have to, but it beat the dinner at the bar. So thanks.”
Katrina shrugged, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “You’re welcome.”
For a moment, everything felt wonderfully ordinary.
Marina crossed into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. "I'm grabbing a beer. Anybody want one?"
"Sure," Katrina answered.
"I'm good," Ryan said. He glanced at his watch. "Actually... I should probably head home."
Marina looked toward the clock on the stove. Nearly two. "It's too late to drive,” she said. “Just stay the night.”
"Yeah, stay," Katrina said.
Ryan looked between them. "You sure?"
"Of course."
Marina pulled three bottles from the refrigerator anyway. "I wasn't really asking."
Ryan laughed. "Okay."
She handed them each a bottle before settling onto the couch beside him.
For a few moments they drank in comfortable silence. The television continued talking to itself.
Marina let out a contented sigh. "I'm exhausted."
"I bet," Katrina said.
"There were a couple of big parties tonight." Marina nodded. "They kept us busy."
“Yeah, you said that.” Something about Katrina's voice made her glance over.
Her sister was watching her—not casually, but expectantly.
Marina frowned. "What?"
“Nothing.” Katrina set her beer on the coffee table.
Silence settled over them.
Marina stared at the television without seeing any of it. Her beer felt cold in her hand, moisture collecting on the bottle as she turned it slowly between her fingers.
Something was wrong. She could feel it.
Across the couch, Katrina looked at Ryan. A strange heaviness settled in Marina's chest.
Ryan suddenly stood.
"I should probably leave you two to talk. I'll just go to the guest room."
Before he could take more than a step, Katrina reached out and caught his wrist, gently pulling him back onto the couch.
"It's okay," she said. "You should stay."
Marina forced a laugh. "What are you guys up to?"
"This should be my question." Katrina leaned forward, looking past Ryan until their eyes met. "What are you up to? Isn't there something you want to tell me?"
For a heartbeat Marina couldn't breathe. Her gaze flicked to Ryan, and then back to Katrina. "What?"
Ryan let out a quiet sigh. "Katrina followed me to the Beacon earlier. She saw your dance."
Everything inside Marina dropped. Shit.
She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "I should have known."
Ryan reached for her arm. "I'm sorry. I told her to wait in the car."
"It isn't your fault," Katrina said before turning back to Marina. "Can you please just explain? Why keep this from me?"
Marina took a long drink of her beer, buying herself a few precious seconds.
Because I wanted to protect you. Because I couldn't bear seeing you look at me differently. Because once you knew, I could never unknow it.
Instead she said quietly, "It's not something I'm proud of. How am I supposed to tell you, 'Hey, sis, guess what? I'm a stripper?'"
"You're not a stripper," Katrina said immediately. "I know what it is called. Burlesque dancing." Her voice softened. "I don't have a problem with the dancing, Rina. Honestly, I think you looked fabulous on stage. But why didn't you tell me? Why keep it a secret? I'm your only family."
The words hit harder than Marina expected. She reached across Ryan and took Katrina's hand. "I'm sorry."
"I don't want apologies," Katrina said. "I want the truth. Why are you doing the dance at all?"
Marina looked down at the beer bottle in her hands. Because every extra dollar meant one less month. One less payment. One step closer.
"I make a lot more money dancing than bartending," she said at last. "Three, sometimes four times more in a night."
Katrina frowned. "You told me we didn't have money problems when I decided to quit my job in the city. We own the house. We only need money for groceries and insurance."
Marina couldn't look at her anymore.
She stared at a knot in the wooden floor, her fingers tightening around the bottle until they almost hurt. There it was. The moment she'd spent years avoiding.
"Is there more you're not telling me?" Katrina asked quietly.
Marina closed her eyes for a moment. There was no point hiding it anymore. "Yes."
She lifted her head and finally met her sister's gaze. "We inherited a lot of debt from Mom and Dad."
Katrina blinked several times, as though she wasn't sure she'd heard correctly.
"They spent years saving for Wayfinder and the dream trip to Baja," Marina continued.
"When they finally found the Catalina, they convinced themselves it was now or never.
They refinanced the house to help pay for the boat and the upgrades for long-distance sailing.
New electronics, safety gear, repairs, marina fees.
Everything they thought they needed for the voyage. "
The words came easier now that she'd finally started.
She had rehearsed this conversation in her head a hundred times over the years. Somehow it had never seemed possible to say the words out loud.
Until now.
"Selling the boat would have made things easier.
" She looked down at the beer bottle in her hands.
"But I couldn't do it. I kept telling myself I'd find a way to manage everything.
The house, the marina fees, the insurance, the repairs.
Bartending wasn't enough. The burlesque money was.
At first it was only supposed to be temporary, just until I caught up on the payments.
But the years kept passing, and somehow I'm still trying to keep the house, the boat, and the last pieces of Mom and Dad's dream from disappearing. "
Silence settled over the room.
When Marina finally looked up, Katrina's eyes were glistening.
Before she could say another word, Katrina leaned across Ryan and wrapped her arms around her.
Marina held on just as tightly.
For years she had carried the weight alone, convinced it was hers to bear. Now, with her sister clinging to her and Ryan's steady presence beside them, something inside her finally loosened.
She hadn't realized how tired she was.
When they finally pulled apart, Katrina wiped at her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? I could've put college on hold. I could've helped."
Marina shook her head. "I didn't want you carrying this. You deserved your own life."
"But that's not cool," Katrina said, her voice thick with emotion. "We're family. We're supposed to figure things out together."
Guilt tightened in Marina's chest. She had spent years believing she was protecting Katrina. Now she wondered if she'd only been shutting her out. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "But what can we do?"
Katrina reached over and squeezed her hand. Marina gave a small, helpless shrug. "We work together on the surf school," Katrina said without hesitation. "If we grow it enough, maybe it'll bring in as much as the burlesque dancing. Not that I have a problem with it."
Marina felt the first flicker of hope she'd allowed herself in a very long time. Maybe...
Before she could answer, Ryan spoke. "I want to stay another week."
Marina and her sister turned toward him.
"To finish the websites," he continued, "and make sure everything works."
Marina stared at him. Another week? Her heart gave an unexpected little leap. "Are you sure?"
"I still have another week of vacation," he said. "I'd like to spend it here."
"You don't have to do that," Katrina said, though the hopeful smile spreading across her face betrayed how much she wanted him to.
"I know." His eyes met Marina's. "I want to."
For a moment neither she nor Katrina spoke.
Marina wasn't sure whether she wanted to thank him or tell him he was making this all much harder than it needed to be.
Because every kindness made it more difficult to remember that he would eventually leave, and harder to not fall deeper for him.
Still… She couldn’t reject his kind offer.
She looked at Katrina, who was already looking back at her. Without saying a word, they both leaned toward him at the same time.
For an instant it was awkward, all three of them laughing softly as they crowded together. Then Marina kissed his left cheek while Katrina kissed the right.
When they pulled back, Ryan looked faintly embarrassed and thoroughly pleased.
Marina and Katrina laughed. "Thank you,” they said in unison.
This time, she wasn't just thanking him for the websites. She was thanking him for reminding her what it felt like not to carry everything alone.