17. Gage
GAGE
Just after breakfast, I’m in the cabin working on my computer and I hear a shout on the docks from Cap.
“Gage!” he bellows as I climb the ladder.
“Morning to you too.”
He runs a hand through his short hair. “Sorry. I need a favor.”
I shield my eyes from the sun. “What’s up?”
“Can I come aboard?”
“Sure.” I’m suspicious now.
He’s acting nervous, pulling at the collar of his shirt. We settle in the cockpit, out of direct sunlight. I lean back, clasping my hands across my stomach.
“Haven Bay has student campers for the week and the guest speaker backed out for the day.”
“Okay. What does this have to do with me?”
“I want you to come in for an hour before lunch to discuss chartering with the kids,” he pleads.
My mind is screaming at me no, and I’m in a fucking panic. Hunching forward, sweat starts to break out all over my body and my stomach is in a knot.
“I'll be there with you and you can pull up your website. It’ll be fine. You’ll be saving my ass today,” he reassures me.
Not if I look like a complete idiot.
I finally blurt out, “I was going to be a student here and I never went after my dad died.”
Cap shifts, his brow knits. “I know about your story, Gage. I was the Head of the Academy at the time. I’m so sorry for your loss.” He rubs the shiny teak wood absently. “I remember your father. He was a good man. I’d like to think he’d be proud of you today.”
I slump down on the bench. Those are words I’ve heard before, but they mean more coming from Cap. He doesn't bullshit and patronize like so many other people.
“Gage, you’ve made a success of yourself despite what life gave you when you were younger. That’s a story for these kids to look up to, you know?”
I sniff and look out to the bay. I wipe my nose with the back of my hand and clear my throat.
Fuck. Not today.
I’ve kept my feelings about not going to school locked away for so long.
It’s a shock thinking about actually going inside and acknowledging what I missed out on.
I gave up on my dad’s dream for me. “Cap, I’m just running my uncle’s boat for him.
I don’t have a real home, or a degree from anywhere. How is that a success story?”
“Not just anyone knows how to sail a boat, maintain it, repair it, hire staff, keep up a website, market their services, keep guests happy, and travel the intercoastal too. There’s not a school for that. But you’ve done it, kid. And you’ve done a good job. So what do you say?”
“I’ll be there.” My voice cracks with emotion.
I show up at the Academy a little before eleven wearing one of my Wanderlust shirts and a pair of tan shorts.
I’m immediately brought back to visiting here with my dad when I had just turned seventeen.
I’d been interested in learning how to build boats for years.
It was a hobby I worked on with Dad. Plus, I wanted to get out of Maine.
I knew my Uncle Bill had spent summers in Seascape and my mom and dad had some good times with him here too. It seemed like a perfect plan.
Years later, it seems smaller, but there’s still the same hum of energy in the building. The smell of fresh cut wood, epoxy, and stain hang in the air. The crank of tools working, hammering, buzzing, and whirring echoes in the building.
Cap’s waiting in the lobby for me. “Come on back to the meeting room where the campers will be. We’ll set up your computer and then the kids will come in a few minutes.”
I nod stiffly. I think I’m going to puke. I stand there frozen to the wide wooden floors.
“Are you ready?”
“I don’t think I can do this.” My mouth feels like it’s filled with sand.
“What is it? Just show them your website and talk about your work. Pretend you’re talking to me.” He grabs my shoulder.
“No, you don’t understand,” I sputter.
“Look, I’ll be right there. These kids are little, eight to ten years old. They’ll love you. They'll probably ask if you’ve seen any sharks and how to empty the head.”
I choke out a laugh and force my wooden legs to move forward.
Cap’s actually right. The beginning is slightly awkward when he introduces me as Mr. Collins.
I instantly feel old and sad —that was my dad.
I freeze momentarily, picturing him and myself in this room.
Cap gets my attention by waving his arms like a windmill.
I barely recover, then I fumble with the computer.
The kids start talking until Cap shushes them loudly.
Then they sit and stare at me as I click through my website.
There are about twelve of them as Cap stands in the back silently cheering me on with his facial expressions and hand movements.
One kid even picks his nose and another starts playing with his toes through his sandals.
Once I finish and open it up to questions, the fun begins.
One girl wants to know if I have a pet, which her friend declares impossible because where would it go poop?
The boat has no yard. They all laugh hysterically.
They have all the random questions, like do I still live with my parents? -No. Can you play video games on a boat? -I guess, but I don’t. Do I sleep there? -Yes. What happens when it rains? -I stay in the cabin, or I get wet. Have I ever seen a shark? -Yes. And did it bite me? -No.
In the end, it was actually pretty good.
Cap says that he’ll mention my charter business in the camp newsletter and that the kids all want to come and see Wanderlust for a field trip.
I tell them it’s up to Cap. I leave feeling so light and excited.
I look across the harbor and imagine that Dad would be proud.
* * *
I’m on cloud nine all afternoon, so much that even polishing stainless steel-cleats doesn't bother me like it usually does. I text Charli about meeting at six for the hike and maybe getting something to eat after. She gives it a like and says maybe we can go to the pub.
She arrives early, her wavy hair up in a ponytail and blowing in the breeze through the open windows in her Jeep. The new auburn color really brings out the green in her eyes. My body hums with anticipation about spending the evening with her again.
Her vanilla scent teases me while we drive to the trailhead, bumping along the dirt road. We park and start toward a well-worn path in the bushes. A cacophony of bugs chirp loudly in the thick brush. The wind is brisk here, so close to the point.
She nudges my shoulder and asks, “You seem to be in a good mood today? What’s up with you?”
“Well, I actually have your grandfather to thank.”
“What do you mean?” She turns to me, hands planted on her hips, giving me her full attention.
I inhale deeply and begin, “He invited me to do a talk at the Academy because his other guest speaker bailed. I didn’t want to do it, because I was actually going to be a student there after high school, but I didn’t go after my dad died.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I thought I was going to totally bomb with the group, but Cap stayed there and it was kind of fun. Those kids ask some weird questions.” I laugh.
“It's amazing that everything went well for you today. And kind of sad that you didn’t get to go to school like you wanted to.” Her brows come up, and even her sad face is cute.
Then she fucking hugs me. Like a real hug, her body flush with mine, not stiff and fake.
I’m stunned for a second, but then go in to squeeze her back.
Her arms tighten around my neck and her soft curves press into me as I circle her waist and pull her closer.
My body comes to life enjoying the sensations that she awakens in me, and it’s more than just physical. I want to keep her here in my arms.
She leans back slightly to look up at me, her green eyes sparkling in the soft evening light. “I’m really happy for you.” She tucks her head under my chin and squeezes me again before letting go and adjusting her backpack. “My Pop can be old and crusty sometimes, but he’s really a big softy.”
What the hell was that? A fucking full-on hug, like more than a friend hug. We follow the trail out to the point. I don't mind being behind her since I get an amazing view of her ass in her tiny black sports shorts.
The brush and woods are thick, so we can’t see a view of the point.
I know we’re closer as the waves crash loudly on the rocks below the tree line and the breeze gets stronger.
We talk about what we liked to do as kids.
She was a tomboy who was out on the water with Pop a lot but also liked to bake with her Mimi.
At school, she was a goody two shoes and got good grades.
I tell her that I also went boating with my family and bass-fishing, but school was boring for me.
Things got better when I played sports because I had to maintain my grades to stay on my teams.
The whole hike, she keeps brushing my arm, or my hand or bumping me on the narrow path.
I get a spark in my body every time we touch.
I’m not sure what it is, but she's letting her guard down around me and I really fucking like it. After my talk with Bill yesterday, I realize I don’t want her to get away, she’s special.
This is different for me since I usually keep any women at a distance, hook up, hang a bit, and move on.
I haven’t wanted to take a chance on something more after getting my heart crushed.
Finally after about a mile and half, the brush fades away and the point comes into view, just as the sun is lowering on the horizon.
It’s breathtaking, large gray shale rocks jutting into the sea and the waves pounding onto them.
The wind is strong and blowing back our hair.
The spray from the water mists all around us.
She grabs my hand and leads me to an old wooden bench that overlooks the point. We sit side by side with our thighs pressed against each other. She takes off her backpack and pulls out a container with some snacks: cut cheese, crackers, and dried fruit. And she has two cans of cold beer in Koozies.