14. Cole
FOURTEEN
Cole
In the wheelhouse, there’s a wooden beam over the windows with photos of fallen captains and crew pinned onto it, fluttering like angels when the wind blows through. It’s a reminder of our heritage, a warning of the ocean’s ire.
My grandpa’s up there, my mom and uncle too. Seb hung up Dad’s picture while I watched, and now I’ll hang up his alone.
I pull a photo from my back pocket. In the picture, Seb sits in the captain’s chair with Finn perched on his lap. They’re both smiling joyously, pointing through the window at something. Maybe a whale or a rainbow. I don’t know.
Memories echo in the silence—Seb calming my panic with a single look that said trust me after Dad threw me overboard, then taking my hand and helping me swim to the surface, that same hand holding mine and promising he’d keep me safe the night Dad tore apart the kitchen in search of a bottle he already drank, that same hand holding mine when he promised to take care of me while I was dying.
And now he’s not here.
I’ve lost the only father figure I ever had. He took care of me nine months out of the year while Dad fished, plus the other three months because when Dad was home, his mind was still at sea.
Tears prick my eyes as I reach up and pin Seb’s photo into the wood. Pain pierces me so viscerally, the thumbtack might as well be a blade. It hurts more than crushing my pelvis did, more than struggling to breathe with all those broken ribs, more than the pain that has plagued me every day since.
I collapse into the captain’s seat and bury my face in my hands. When I lift my head, the sight of Seb and Finn up there next to Dad makes me want to rip all the photos down, light a fire on the deck, and go down with the ship.
But I can’t do that. The crew depends on me. Fishing is their livelihood. What we make will keep them afloat for the rest of the year. Lawrence has a criminal record. Javi’s paramedic gig is only part time. Alejo supports his family back home. I don’t know what Wes spends his money on.
The Briar is Finn’s legacy, the one Seb would have passed on to him. The weight of all that responsibility bears down on me. Thank god Morgan is coming.
Exhaling a heavy sigh that does nothing to lighten the weight on my chest, I take my duffle from the table and head to the captain’s quarters, to the room that used to be Seb’s.
The door is ajar, and the room is already occupied by none other than my husband.
I blink, but he’s still there, long body stretched beyond the bed, palms making a pillow under his head, shiny hair from under his arms sneaking out of his short-sleeve tee.
The bottom hem of his shirt lifts a few inches, teasing me with tan skin, tight abs, and a glimpse of his treasure trail.
“Nice of you to show, Captain,” he says, a half smile toying the corner of his lips.
I haven’t seen him since he left me desperate and told me it was my turn to fight for him.
I’ve sent him apologetic texts and long voice messages, most of which I deleted before he could listen.
I tried to drive to Seb’s house half a dozen times, but what if I ran into Finn?
I’m not ready to face him. What if Shay is there?
Excuses, I know.
Whatever I’ve done isn’t close to fighting for him. I still don’t know what I want. That’s not true. I want him, but I don’t want that for him. I don’t deserve him. And I’m scared. I already lost Seb. What if I lose him? What if I lose Finn?
He curls into a seated position at the edge of the bed and widens his knees, drawing my attention between them to the imprint of his dick beneath his joggers.
My cock lengthens, pushing against my zipper. It’s shameful and inappropriate, and Morgan’s eyes dip right to it. I can’t hide the effect he has on me.
He clicks his tongue thrice. “That looks painful. You could have called me,” he says in a gravelly timbre that gives me goosebumps. “Maybe if you’d begged me nicely, I would have taken care of you. But only after you took care of me first.”
He guides my hand to his cock, hardening beneath my touch.
I inhale sharply.
“You’d do anything to taste me again, wouldn’t you?” He grips my good hip and strokes his thumb over the bony ridge of it. “Hm?”
I lick my bottom lip, and nod. His eyes darken. Footsteps echo up the stairs, and I rip my hand back. Morgan keeps a claiming hand on my hip.
“Are you two decent?” Lawrence covers his eyes with his hands as he enters.
“Fuck off,” we both say.
“Damn.” He lowers his hands. “I was hoping you guys had banged it out by now.”
“Don’t joke about that anymore,” I say.
“Oh, joy. I can’t wait for all the brooding silence,” Lawrence says. “I’ll give you two some privacy. I just wanted to warn you, Javi and Alejo will be here soon, and Wes is unpacking, so if you want to have make-up sex, you better get to it.”
“Lawless, bait duty,” I say. “I literally just told you not to joke about that.”
Lawrence scoffs. “We don’t even need to make bait yet.”
Morgan points at the door. “Out.”
After Lawrence leaves, Morgan squeezes my hip, pulling my gaze back to him.
“He’s such a cockblock,” I say.
He palms his stubble. “Cockblocking was probably for the best. I’m not supposed to be flirting with you.” He reclaims my hand and squeezes it. “Where’s your head at? Today can’t be easy.”
I laugh mirthlessly. “No. It’s not.” I look down at our joined hands and wedding band tattoos. “I keep trying to decide which room to sleep in. This one makes the most sense, but I don’t want to sleep alone.” I smash my eyelids shut and ask in a rush, “Do you want to share this one with me?”
“I don’t know if that’s wise.”
I open my eyes. His rejection stings, even if it’s what I expected. “Right. Yeah. Okay.” I try to pull my hand free, but he doesn’t let me.
He clears his throat. “I’m guessing you didn’t read my texts?”
“What texts?”
He reaches into my back pocket and pulls out my phone, swipes through the notifications on the lock screen, and passes it to me. “You gotta stop leaving your phone on do not disturb, especially the day we leave port.”
I wave him away and read.
Morgan
Hey, Cole, I need to talk to you. It’s important. Can you call me back?
I left you a voicemail.
You’re on do not disturb, aren’t you?
Maybe if I send you a dick pic, you’ll call me back.
Sorry. That’s the most you’re going to get.
I’m on my way, but just in case you see this first, Finn is coming to send us off.
His grief counselor said it might be good for him to spend a little time on the boat. Give him closure, maybe.
How are you not getting
Any
Of
These
Notifications?
We’re on our way.
I look up. “He’s here?”
“Yeah. I told Shay to wait with him until I talked to you.”
“You should have asked.”
“I would have warned you sooner, but Finn changed his mind, then changed it again this morning.”
Before I can digest what he said and verbalize how terrible an idea this is, a truly horrifying sound greets my ears—an adorable little voice going a mile a minute and small feet scampering up the stairs.
Morgan blanches and whispers, “I’m sorry. Please be nice to him.”
Well, that just pisses me off even more. Why wouldn’t I be nice? I don’t have beef with Finn. It’s me I hate.
“Uncle Cole!” Finn shouts.
I only have enough time to turn before he hugs me around the middle.
“Hey, Finn! Where did you come from?” I kneel and give him a hug, narrowing fuming eyes over his head at Morgan.
Morgan could have taken Finn on a field trip any day I wasn’t here. He could have at least given me the choice to go take a walk so I don’t start my trip confronted with the kid I orphaned the last time I was on this ship.
Shay’s hurried footsteps follow. “Sorry, Mor. Oh, hey Cole.” Her caramel hair falls over her face as she braces her hands on her thighs and catches her breath. “Finny, I know you’re excited, but you can’t go running off like that.”
“You guys brought a kid on a floating death trap, and you can’t even keep an eye on him? For fuck’s sake. He isn’t even wearing a life jacket.”
Far from chastened, Shay squares her jaw like she’s ready to throw fists.
“I’m sorry.” Finn’s lip trembles, and I feel like the world’s biggest asshole.
“No. You’re not in trouble.” Morgan pushes past me and picks him up. “Uncle just wants to keep you safe.”
“But I know how to swim now.”
“You do?” It feels like a lifetime ago that Seb promised to teach him to swim when he got back from our trip.
“Yeah! Uncle Mor taught me.”
I turn to Morgan. “You did?”
“You missed a lot while you were out fishing.” He carries Finn to Seb’s old chair and drops him onto it. “Want a driving lesson?”
Finn nods enthusiastically. Morgan’s so good with him.
Apparently, driving the boat means testing all the alarms, and smashing a handful of buttons that trip the breaker. I take my sweet time going down to flip all the switches back on. By the time I return, Morgan’s taught him how to blow the horn.
Lovely.
Finn stands on the chair and reaches for the PA mic. Morgan passes it to him. Finn promptly drops it, and nearly falls off the chair in his haste to save it.
“Okay. All captains sit on their chairs.” Morgan waits until Finn complies, then passes the mic to him again.
“Daddy!” Finn shouts in full surround sound over the speaker.
Morgan takes the mic and hangs it back up with a grimace.
“What? No, Daddy’s…” Morgan trails off.
“Dead. I know,” Finn says, like Morgan is a dumbass, and points at the photo of Seb on the beam.
“I put Seb’s picture up,” I explain.
“Oh, right.”
“Grandpa’s there too,” Finn says. “Where’s yours, Uncle Cole?”
“Um...” Obviously I can’t tell Finn that we only put dead captains up there, so I settle on, “I don’t have one yet.”
“You don’t?” Finn says, eyebrows downturned, like I’m the most pathetic victim of misfortune he’s ever known. “Can I take one with you?”
“Oh, I don’t know…”
Finn snaps his fingers at Morgan in a very Seb sort of way, and hops down from the chair. He pats the seat. “Uncle Cole, over here.”
“I don’t remember you being so bossy when you were four.”
But I do as he asks, posing in Seb’s recently vacated chair with his son in my lap, like I stole his life on purpose.
“Alright, ready?” Morgan asks, blue-green eyes boring into mine.
Let the record show, no. I’m not ready. I will never be ready to live in a world where Seb died.
I force a smile and fight off tears while Finn preens, all amped up to be near me. I feel like a ghost looking in on a world that’s moved on without me while I’m stuck here, haunted by what happened. Even Finn is doing better than I am.
“Let me see,” Finn says.
Morgan shows him the screen so our tiny dictator can approve. He glances at me for a fleeting second, then murmurs to Shay, “Maybe we shouldn’t have brought him.”
No shit.
Shay squeezes Morgan’s shoulder. “He’s fine. This is good for him.”
“Good for him? None of this is good for him. You know what would be good? If Seb was still here.”
Finn bursts into tears.
Great. I’m acting like a child. No, worse than a child.
Morgan picks him up. “Hey. Don’t cry. Uncle Cole’s just being an asshole.”
It takes a couple minutes for Finn to calm down, while I contemplate taking a header off the bow.
“We should get going, anyway,” Shay says.
“Yeah, okay,” Morgan agrees.
“I’m sorry, Finn. I love you so much.” I kneel and open my arms to offer him a hug. I don’t know if that’s what he wants after the way I acted.
Finn rushes forward and hugs me first. “I love you too, Uncle Cole.”
I embrace him with equal urgency, gratitude tearing through me. “I’m sorry I’m such an asshole.”
“You’re not an asshole. You’re just sad.”
“That’s what screaming into pillows is for, remember?” Morgan says.
“I’ll try that.” I hug Finn tighter and release him reluctantly. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“I miss you already,” he says.
At first, I think he’s saying it the way I did in that note I left him, but I don’t think that’s it. I think he’s trying to say that he’s missed me ever since I stopped coming around.
I give him one last hug, and then the three of them are gone.
Like the miserable, insecure, estranged husband that I am, I watch Morgan say goodbye on the dock.
Morgan hugs Finn like he’s his son, and leaving him is the most difficult thing he’s ever done, and I hate that he trusts me so little, he has to leave Finn when he doesn’t want to.
He gives Shay a platonic side hug, so at least there’s that.
On his way back, he catches me watching. He doesn’t look away. He’s furious.
His footsteps hammer up the stairs. The wheelhouse door opens.
“What is wrong with you?” Morgan yells. “He’s five. He lost his mom. Then his dad. If you hadn’t fucked off from all your responsibilities, you would have known how important this was for him. If you had done any work on your grief, you’d be able to help him through this.”
“All I do is grieve.”
“Bullshit. You either hide your emotions or explode with them. Seb’s death is not your fault, no matter how much you make it about you. But the way you treat Finn? That’s all on you.”
Guilt curdles in my stomach. “Do you think I ruined things with him?”
“No. But that’s the thing about kids. You can be the worst parent in the world, and they’ll still love you. You have to show up and be good for him because he’ll keep loving you, and you’ll keep hurting him.”
He rakes a hand through his hair. “And just so we’re clear, that’s not an excuse for you to stay away.
Abandonment fucks you up just as much as mistreatment does.
Why do you think I struggle so much to quit you?
I’m still the same kid trying to earn the love of someone who doesn’t want me.
I’m a junkie like my parents, and you’re my heroin.
You hurt me over and over, and I keep coming back to show you where all my good veins are so you can stab me in the heart. ”
“Morgan…”
He shakes his head. “I’m going to unpack.” He reaches into his bag and tosses Seb’s baseball mitt at me.
“Finn asked me to give this to you.”
After he leaves, I open the mitt. There’s a photo of me and Finn at his birthday party inside.
On the back, Morgan wrote:
Hi, Uncle,
Uncle Mor is writing this for me because he doesn’t think you’ll be able to read my handwriting. I can’t read either, so hopefully Uncle will read this to you.
Anyway, I know you miss Daddy. I miss him too. Sometimes I put on his mitt and pretend I’m holding his hand. Maybe you can try that?
The picture is so you don’t miss me too much while you’re fishing. Love you.
FINN
PS Make sure to bring Daddy’s mitt back. I’m just loaning it to you. Bring Uncle Mor back too.