Chapter 24
Rylan Cameron
Call sign: Minnow
The Camerons breakfasted together in the salon, seated around the table on the cream chenille sofa built into the wall. The
twins sat opposite their parents, Rylan stabbing at his potatoes but never finding the appetite to bring them to his mouth.
Tia poked at her eggs, seemingly in a similar predicament.
Francis was supposed to be on watch, Rylan thought with a glance at the schedule. Of course, without MJ in the rotation, Nico,
Alejandro, and Francis should have each been pulling extra weight.
But here Francis sat at the salon table with them, sawing his sausages in half and sipping freshly squeezed orange juice out
of a crystal glass.
Lila—who often insisted on eating a different meal than the rest of the family—took a dainty bite of her blueberry parfait,
then laid her spoon on the table. “I think . . .” She cleared her throat. “I think we should be planning our next family activity!
We have—what?—three or four days left of our lovely little vacation, and it’s about time we make an itinerary since diving
may no longer be the highest of priorities.”
Very smooth, Mom. Rylan shoved some diced potatoes in his mouth.
Lila reached over and rested a hand on Tia’s arm. “I know. Why don’t we plan a nice spa treatment? I have all the supplies.
You could let me get one of my hair masks on you. And maybe tonight we could play some family poker?”
Tia stopped eating.
Here we go.
“Omigod, yes, and maybe while we do chemical peels and drink cucumber juice we can finally acknowledge the fact that MJ just
died.”
Well, there it was. Rylan leaned back in his seat as Lila rubbed her temple and all three of them turned their eyes on Francis.
Francis tilted his head to one side, then took a large bite of sausage. He chewed. Swallowed. Drank some orange juice. Swallowed.
Rylan began to think his father wouldn’t answer at all and the silent meal would resume, but Francis set down his glass and
smiled. He had wanted them to wait.
“I think,” he said in a faint mimic of his wife, “that is a great suggestion, Lila.”
Rylan, Tia, and Lila watched as Francis sliced open a fried egg. The yolk bled bright yellow over the plate. Francis dragged
his potatoes through the mess and took another bite.
Rylan fiddled with his fork.
The boat hit a bump, and Lila’s spoon clattered to the floor. As she hurried to pick it up and wipe the yogurt off the wood,
Francis kept chewing.
“Maybe we could keep sailing, but we could send a message to shore for MJ’s family,” Rylan suggested, hoping for a compromise.
Francis clicked his tongue. “I think that would put unnecessary strain on our vacation.”
“Unnecessary strain?” Rylan tried to make eye contact with Tia again, but she was already forging ahead. “MJ is dead. We are
well beyond unnecessary strain.” She leaned over the tablecloth, her fists making towers around her plate of untouched food. “What would you have done if
it was Mom that drowned? Or Rylan?”
“Tia.” Rylan stood with a start and tried to tug on one of her arms. “I’m not hungry. Let’s go to our cabin.”
She just had to pick at Francis, didn’t she? Rylan understood she was upset about MJ—he was too—but was she trying to make their father snap? Was she trying to repeat last summer? Look how well that had turned out for her.
“It’s all right, Rylan.” Francis waved a hand, and Rylan let go. Francis wasn’t even looking at him. He felt tiny. Like the
sofa and the cushions he sat on were growing around him. Like he was being swallowed inside.
“You’re quite right, Tia,” Francis said, and his tone made Rylan’s hackles raise. “Life at sea is dangerous. Deadly, sometimes.
I couldn’t have predicted an accident, but we always take into account some amount of risk.”
“This isn’t how normal people respond to a death!” Tia raised her voice, which wobbled ever so slightly.
“Tia, please,” Lila said, resting a hand on Francis’s thigh. “We understand you’re upset. This situation is very painful,
and I’m sure your father has a good reason for it all.”
Tia blinked rapidly, looking to Francis. “Do you?”
Rylan felt the urge to lean over and grab her wrist, but he didn’t. He was the reason she was in mourning at all. He wished
he could collapse in on himself. But more than that, he wished Tia would stay quiet.
Francis took a huge bite of meat and potatoes. He spoke around the food in his mouth.
“It’s simple, sweetheart. We’d have to go closer to land to radio the coast guard. It would stop the trip altogether and . . .
well . . . I have a big surprise for all of you, and going back to land now would ruin the whole thing.”
Lila clapped her hands, but the line in her forehead deepened. “Oh, a surprise! How thoughtful, love.”
“Yes, I thought so too.” Francis leaned backward, hands behind his head, and finally swallowed his food.
“What surprise?” Tia whispered, shoulders drooped. She just seemed sad now. Rylan’s stomach lurched.
“Well, Tia . . . our destination. It’s a surprise.”
It was Rylan’s turn to gape at their father. “Wait. Our . . . destination?”
Francis dropped his crumpled napkin onto his empty plate, lips pulled wide. “That’s right, Rylan. We aren’t going to Florida. We never were.”
Francis slapped the table so suddenly Rylan flinched.
“Now! Who wants mimosas?”