Chapter 12
Sunday mornings in early August were among Big Mac McCarthy’s favorite days at the marina he’d owned and operated for forty summers now. Many of the boaters left early to head for home, and after they’d seen off the others, he and his boys had time to sit around and shoot the shit.
This year had been the best of times because his brother Frank had joined the morning crew after his retirement in June, and having Frankie back in his everyday life made Big Mac almost as happy as having his four sons living home again on the island.
His oldest son, Mac, now a partner with him in the marina, was an everyday regular, and his other three boys made occasional appearances at the morning “meeting,” at which Big Mac and his band of buddies attempted to solve the world’s problems.
His longtime best friend, Ned Saunders, was the first to arrive that Sunday morning, and he grunted out a good morning on his way inside to get a coffee and some sugar doughnuts.
Thinking about the early days here, after he’d persuaded Linda to leave her life in Providence to marry him and come live with him on his island, made Big Mac feel sentimental.
She’d taken to the place like the proverbial fish to water, making the restaurant her own with her special brand of class and charm that his customers had responded to instantly.
The doughnuts had been an inspired idea that had become part of the magic of the place.
And it was magic. What other word could you use to describe the view he had every day of the Salt Pond and all her many personalities?
Some days she was so blue it hurt his eyes to look at her.
Other days, she was gray and angry and frothy and just as beautiful as every other day. Big Mac appreciated all her many moods.
He loved the boats, the people, the smell of diesel fuel mixing with sand and seaweed.
He loved the seagulls that stalked the docks looking for anything edible.
He adored the kids who dropped their crabbers into the water off his floating docks, using hot dogs for bait, until they filled a bucket with the slimy creatures.
He enjoyed the “crab races” down the ramp off the main dock where the captured crustaceans escaped back into the water unharmed, but leaving behind priceless childhood memories.
Big Mac needed to invite his grandson Thomas down to do some crabbing one of these days. Thomas was old enough this summer to appreciate something his father had once loved. They’d invite Ashleigh, Thomas’s cousin and constant companion, too.
Ned came out to the table and dropped a box of doughnuts in the middle as he took a seat.
“What’s got you so cranky this morning?”
“I ain’t cranky.”
“Tell that to someone who hasn’t seen you every morning for going on forty years.
” Ned had been Big Mac’s first friend on the island.
Their bond had been immediate and enduring.
Now that Big Mac’s other lifelong best friend, his brother Frank, was on the island, Big Mac had gone out of his way to make sure he still had plenty of time for Ned. “What gives?”
“Seamus and Carolina,” Ned said, taking a drink of his coffee.
“What about them?”
“They stole our idea.”
“What idea?”
“Have a cookout and git married.”
“Oh! When was this going to happen?”
“Coupla weeks. After Laura’s. You got any idea how hard it is to find a time around here to git married without steppin’ on someone else’s toes these days? Now I don’t know when we’re gonna do it.”
“Do what?” Big Mac’s son Mac asked as he joined them.
“Git married.”
“Who’s getting married?” Mac asked.
“Everyone but me,” Ned replied glumly. “Waited a long time fer this. I’m ready. She’s ready. Now we gotta come up with another idea cuz Seamus and Caro stole ours.”
“So wait,” Mac said, “you guys were going to do a surprise wedding, too?”
“Was gonna. Didn’t want all the fuss and bother. Now? Who knows?”
“As the son-in-law of the future Mrs. Saunders, I’d be happy to offer up my house, my yard, anything you need to make it happen,” Mac said. “You just say the word, and we’ll get it done.”
At that, Ned visibly brightened, and Big Mac looked upon his oldest son with an unreasonable amount of pride.
He knew it wasn’t always cool for a man to love his kids the way Big Mac loved his, but when you had five kids as amazing as his, it was damned hard not to be talking all the time about how great they were.
At times like this, they did the talking for him.
“That’s a great idea, son,” Big Mac said. “What do you think, Ned?”
“I’ll talk ta Francine bout it. ’Tis all up to her.”
“You’ll be a fine husband if you already realize that,” Big Mac said.
“Ya think I will? Really?”
“I’m sure you will,” Mac said. “You love her and her girls like they’re your own. Maddie says all the time that she and Tiffany had no idea what it was like to have a father until you came into their lives. And the kids adore their grandpop. You’re going to be great at it.”
With his chin propped on his hand, Ned blinked a few times.
For a second, Big Mac wondered if his old pal would hang on to his composure in the face of such a ringing endorsement.
“Thank you,” Ned said softly. “Means a lot coming from ya.”
Luke Harris joined them, along with some of the other daily regulars who came by for coffee, doughnuts and bullshit every morning.
“So hey, before the day gets away from us,” Mac said, leaning in so his father and Luke could hear him. “I need to start spending a little more time at home. This pregnancy is kicking Maddie’s ass, and she needs some help with the kids.”
“No problem,” Big Mac said. “Do what you’ve got to do.”
“I’ll cover for you,” Luke said. “Maybe someday you’ll get to return the favor.”
“I really hope so,” Mac said.
“You know we don’t want to pry,” Big Mac said tentatively, aware that Luke and his wife, Sydney, were trying to have a baby after she’d had a tubal ligation reversal.
“Yes, you do,” Luke said, laughing. “Nothing yet, but we’re having lots of fun trying.”
Big Mac had loved Luke Harris like a son since the fatherless boy showed up at the docks when he was fourteen and asked for a job.
He’d been working there ever since. Best thing Big Mac had ever done was make him a partner in the business a couple of summers ago.
Luke and Mac were doing a brilliant job of running the place so he could spend more of his time doing what he did best—passing the bull with his friends.
Grant came along a short time later, taking a seat at the table with a coffee in hand. “I have news from the trenches,” Grant said with a triumphant smile that had everyone’s immediate attention.
“Spill it,” Mac said.
“Steph and I are getting married on Labor Day!”
“Oh for shit’s sake,” Ned muttered as the others congratulated Grant.
“What’s wrong with him?” Grant asked, using his thumb to point to Ned.
“He’s having a little trouble fitting his wedding in among all the others,” Mac told his brother. “But I’m happy for you and Steph. That’s great news.”
“Yes, it is,” Big Mac said to his second son, who had found the perfect partner in Stephanie.
Big Mac and Linda wholeheartedly approved of the delightful young woman who’d overcome a hardscrabble upbringing to become someone anyone would be proud to welcome into their family. “This is very good news indeed.”
“Happy fer ya, too,” Ned said gruffly. “Don’t think I ain’t. We all got a soft spot for that gal.”
“Thanks,” Grant said. “We’re excited.”
“Ah, here comes our newest Romeo,” Big Mac said, making room at the table for his brother.
“Oh shut up.”
“Holding hands, Uncle Frank,” Mac said. “Looks like someone’s got himself a girlfriend.”
“So what about it?” Frank asked testily as he helped himself to one of the doughnuts.
“He’s not even denying it,” Mac said. “It’s worse than we thought.”
“You all need to get busy minding your own business rather than everyone else’s.”
“That ain’t never gonna happen,” Ned said to laughter from the others.
“What the hell fun would that be?” Big Mac asked. “So… You and Betsy. Going steady. This is very exciting.”
“You’re a jackass, you know that?”
“Um, excuse me, but who was up in my grille every time I brought a new girl home? I never got the chance to do that to you because you were with Joann since eighth grade. Now it’s my turn, and revenge is sweet.
” Big Mac wasn’t sure if he’d done the right thing mentioning the wife Frank had lost to cancer so young, but Frank just smiled at him, full of the good humor Big Mac expected from his older brother.
“Have your fun, pal. I’m happy to take your abuse, because she’s worth it.”
“Oh, wow,” Mac said. “This is way more serious than we thought.”
“I don’t know if serious is the word I would use,” Frank said. “At least not yet, but it does have potential.”
“Good fer ya,” Ned said. “Been a long time comin’.”
“Indeed it has,” Frank said.
“Pardon me,” a female voice said. All eyes turned to a striking, dark-haired woman. She was tall with brown eyes and a cautious manner.
“Help you with something?” Mac asked her.
“I’m looking for Mac McCarthy?”
“That’d be me,” father and son said together, as they usually did.
She looked from Big Mac to his son and then back to him. “Senior,” she said.
“What can I do for you?” Big Mac asked.
“Could I have a moment of your time, please? In private.”
“Uh-oh, Dad,” Mac said. “What did you do now?”
The young woman gave his son a curious look before returning her attention to him. He had no idea who she was, but since she’d asked so politely… “Sure thing. Right this way.”
He led her down the main dock to the very end, where the Salt Pond stretched out before them.
“I’m sorry to drag you away from your friends.”
“That’s all right.”
“I’m Mallory.” She swallowed hard as if she were nervous. “Mallory Vaughn.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mallory.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too. Does the name Vaughn mean anything to you?”
“I can’t say that it does. Should it?”