Chapter 7
Captain Kendra’s Log: The business will break even this month if I don’t plan on eating.
“What do you mean, the policy lapsed?” I shouted into the brick phone. This was ridiculous. I stood in the living area of my houseboat, one foot on a padded bench, while I leaned toward the window, trying to keep a good signal on a cell network that went out of date two years before I was born.
“Ma’am, I’ll need you to calm down,” the insurance company man said over the line.
“Oh, no, you didn’t!” I shouted louder. “Don’t you know it’s sexist to—”
A dial tone greeted the rest of my sentence. He hung up on me. After telling me to calm down. The nerve!
“Damn it!” I threw the phone against the wall of the boat. The phone, heavy as hell, took a chunk of fiberglass with it, but the phone itself looked brand-new. “Damn. It!”
The distant rumble of a ship’s engine filled the air as I tried to think.
I sank into the worn leather couch in the lounge and began to sift through the piles of paperwork on my thrifted coffee table.
I needed a better system, but today was not the day to reorganize my files.
I needed to find that insurance policy. There’s no way it lapsed. I made payments every month.
A lightbulb went off, and I pulled up my bank account on my computer.
That would show the payment and have a confirmation number that the insurance assholes wouldn’t be able to ignore.
My heart sank as I stared at the digital display.
The number was only a few dollars above zero.
It had been a tough month; charters had been slow, and the aging Netfish engine required costly maintenance.
I could do most of it myself, and by some miracle, I had managed to scrape by, barely making it through and into the black.
With my eyes fixed on the screen, I scrutinized my expenses and payments line by line, my heart racing with each mouse scroll. When I reached the end of September, my breath caught in my throat as I discovered something that made my stomach churn.
No.
No.
NoNoNoNoNoNo.
That can’t be.
I scrolled back and back until I reached the end of August. There it was—my last insurance payment.
My stomach sank. If I hadn't paid in September, that meant I had no insurance on the Netfish, for this month.
A wave of panic washed over me, and I could feel my heart racing as I realized the gravity of the situation.
I looked wildly around the room, hoping for divine intervention.
I shuffled through the bills, ignoring the maxed-out limit on most of my credit card bills.
I could get a personal loan to cover the gap, but doubt crept in as I questioned who would give a loan to a boat captain without a working boat or a steady income.
“Argh!” I screamed in frustration, knocking all the paperwork to the floor. I stomped over the pile, slipping on a few pages, and headed to the kitchen. Was it too early to start drinking? Asking for a friend.
The fridge didn’t have much inside. I planned to go to the grocery store after the last charter with the bonus money, but that money was gone, too. After the fire, the Myquelsons requested a refund, which was fair.
I closed the refrigerator and sank to the floor, landing on a pile of laundry.
I grabbed a shirt off the pile and sniffed it.
Passable. The distant rumble of a big engine grew louder, and I frowned.
That didn’t sound like a passing ship. That sounded like someone coming in for a landing in Pleasure Point. We weren’t expecting anyone today.
I pulled myself off the floor and glanced out the window at the hulking black ship growing larger as it swung into the large berth at the end of the dock.
What the actual hell?
I didn’t have to see the pirate flag flying off the back to realize it was Pegleg Pete’s Pirate Extravaganza. In Pleasure Point.
Not on my watch.
I stomped out to the houseboat’s deck and listened as the crew shouted back and forth to one another. A college-aged kid dragged lines across the pirate ship’s deck and threw them down to a familiar face on the dock.
No fucking way.
I rushed down the gangplank and hustled across the docks to where my former first mate stood, tying off the lines for the ship.
“Et tu, Decker?”
At least he had the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry, Skipper. I know you’re in a jam, but I have bills to pay, too. They offered me the job last night.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Last night. While my ship burned. Good times.”
“Don’t be mad, Kendra,” Decker said, frowning.
“It’s a weird story, anyway. The owner heard what I said to the Coast Guard Investigator.
When he asked me about it, I thought he would throw me overboard.
Instead, he offered me a job. Said it was honorable to tell the truth.
” Decker rubbed his facial stubble. “You know, you might be able to get some work—”
I held up a hand. “Nope. Don’t. I’m not going to work on that joke of a ship. I have to repair the Netfish and get back to doing charters.”
Decker sighed. “You could also take this time to change the ship into what you want it to be, not the version of it you’ve had for three decades.”
“Decker.” I smiled at my traitorous first mate. “I say this with no due respect. Fuck off.”
I stormed away from the dock and headed toward my golf cart. If the insurance wouldn’t help me repair my boat, I’d need help from a more powerful source.
I stood on Venus Avenue and stared at the house I grew up in.
It wasn’t always the rambling Victorian-ish structure that stretched an entire city block of Pleasure Point.
Over the years, my parents added to it. A rainbow of colors assaulted the eyes if you looked at them individually, but somehow it worked altogether.
Each addition seemed to have its own idea of how weird it wanted to be.
And that meant a mish-mash of architectural styles and a bed and breakfast that looked crooked on a good day.
Lord knew none of the floors inside were level, but it didn’t seem to bother—
“There she is!” My dad brought The Bolt golf cart to a screeching halt inches from me. I was not new to his ridiculously lousy driving, and I knew he wouldn’t run me over. But I won’t lie. My heart pounded a little from the near-death experience.
“Hop in!” Dad patted the seat beside him. “I’m about to pick up a group of people at the parking lot!”
I slid into the front and barely sat before he hit the “go” pedal. “Dad, slow down!”
“Can’t, sweetheart.” Dad grinned maniacally while gripping the wheel tighter. “Got a few runs to make this afternoon.”
I glanced at The Bolt, my Dad’s answer to a rideshare on an island that only allowed electric vehicles on the streets. Everything looked shiny. And different. “Did Callie give you an upgrade?”
Dad patted the dash and took a corner on two wheels. “This? Oh, no. This is new!”
I shook my head as the sights of Pleasure Point zipped by in my peripheral. “New?”
“Oh, yeah! We got ourselves a new business in Pleasure Point. You’re getting a new neighbor at the marina! The Pegleg Pete’s Pirate Extravaganza dinner cruise will be joining us - sometime today,” Dad announced.
“Yeah. They’re already here.”
Dad turned to look at me and winked. “Isn’t this great news for Pleasure Point? Think of all the tourist dollars coming in! Your mom is excited about an uptick in business at Demeter House. And I invested in several more Bolts!”
My heart sank. “You invested in more carts?”
“Yeah! We had some money set aside to upgrade the inn this year but decided to go all in on The Bolt business since there would be many more people needing transportation to the docks,” Dad said, pulling The Bolt to a stop at Pleasure Point’s public parking lot.
He frowned as he glanced my way. “Why are you so down? Is this about your boat? You’ll get it fixed in no time.
I know insurance payouts sometimes need time to marinate.
Do you want some money to keep you afloat until it comes in? ”
I glanced at the cars filling the public parking lot, and tourists gathered under a sign I hadn’t noticed before. Pegleg Pete’s Pirate Extravaganza Shuttles Here. Another brand-new Bolt pulled up behind us, driven by someone I hadn’t seen before.
New carts. New employees. And a brand-new sign at the parking lot. Not only has this been in the works for a while, but my parents certainly wouldn’t have extra money to help me repair my boat.
My heart clenched. If I asked him for money, he’d find a way to give it to me, even if he had to cash in his retirement plan. There was no way I could do that. I sighed, then smiled at him and patted him on the knee. “It’s fine. Everything is fine. I’m thinking of upgrading the Netfish.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Dad announced and exited the cart to walk around to my side. “Maybe those pirate cruise people will see your new charter boat and want to go for a different kind of boat ride. Maybe you could start that eco stuff you’re always talking about.”
“Eco-tours,” I said. “Yeah. That’s a distinct possibility.”
“Whatever you set your mind to, you can do, sweetheart.” Dad kissed my cheek and then greeted people lined up for the shuttles.
I followed him. “Hey, Dad?” I waved over the heads of two blue-haired ladies. “I’m going to walk back to my cart. See you later. Thanks for the ride.”
“Anytime!”
When I returned to my houseboat, my foot slid on a flyer in the middle of the floor. I picked it up.
ARRRR You Ready To Sail Off Into The Sunset?
The title of the job flyer captured my attention. I snort-laughed. Sure. I’d love to sail off into the sunset. Then, my worries would be fixed, and Jesse would fall madly in love with me. The end.
If only it were that easy.
Pegleg Pete’s Pirate Extravaganza is searching for an experienced boat captain to provide a fun but safe environment for a pirate-themed dinner cruise.
No fucking thank you.
A successful candidate will be fun, enjoy socializing with hundreds of people as they lead them throughout International waters for the evening, and provide exceptional customer service.
Kill me now.
Ability to work outdoors in the Florida heat.
I already do that.
Pay is $1,000 per shift, plus tips.
Ahoy, matey. Looks like I’m about to become Pegleg Kendra, Captain of the Pain in my Ass.