Chapter 3 #2
The wary look on her sister’s face said she wasn’t buying her forced effervescence. She should have known. Calista possessed a finely tuned BS meter.
“Did you know about the memorial golf tournament for Mamá?” Calista asked without preamble.
Disoriented, Athena stammered, “Wh-what? Where did you hear that?”
Calista jerked a thumb at Thornton.
Athena shifted her attention to the man. “Explain. Our mother’s passing is a private affair. Why would Hobby Island host a golf tournament in her memory?”
“It’s by invitation only,” he said.
“And you were invited?” Athena shot him a tart glare.
Reid Thornton slid her a cocky grin. “Not exactly.”
“How did you find out about it?” Athena tossed her head and narrowed her eyes. “No one told me.”
Reid lifted his shoulders in a charming half shrug. “Gavin put it on his social. He’s attending.”
Gavin Gonzales.
Their father’s lifelong archenemy and fierce rival on the golf course before both men retired from the PGA. Thornton had caddied for Gavin when he was a teenager, and at the same time, Calista had caddied for Dad.
Athena froze, stunned. She pressed a palm to her forehead, struggling to process the information. She shot a glance at Calista to see how she was taking it. Her sister looked as bowled over as Athena.
“Is he bothering you?” Athena asked.
“He was just leaving.” Calista glared at Thornton.
“Shoo, go.” Athena waved her hands at the sports vlogger. “Be gone.”
“It’s good to see you two together again.” Reid Thornton’s grin spread. “Working against a common enemy.”
“Enemy?” Athena scowled. What was he talking about?
“All aboard!” the ferry driver announced.
“We’ve got to go,” Calista said. “This is the last ferry to Hobby Island today.”
“I can take a hint.” Thornton turned but stopped and swiveled back. “Calista, remember what I said. Your story would inspire many people if you decide to challenge your sister and make a comeback.”
“Our mother just died,” Calista said. “Don’t be a jerk.”
Athena waited until he was out of earshot. “I’m sorry about him,” she murmured. “I know how persistent he can be. He pestered me for a good six months after . . .”
Calista shrugged, her expression unreadable. “It’s not as if I’m unaccustomed to it.”
Athena flinched at the hurt in her sister’s voice. She wanted to apologize for all that happened, but it was an enormous mountain of regret to climb, and nothing she could say would ease the pain. Words. Far too little, far too late.
“All aboard,” the ferry driver repeated. “Last call for Hobby Island.”
“Well . . .” Athena exhaled with a whoosh. “You ready?”
“No,” Calista said. “It’s gonna be wretched.”
Athena knew her sister didn’t mean it as a personal attack, but she marinated in the sting of the words.
She felt judged, because she’d been on the wrong side of this whole thing.
In the wake of Calista’s shattered dreams and the ensuing fallout, Athena sought solace in the one thing she could count on—golf.
She poured herself into her career with a fervor that left little room for anything else. Now, as she confronted the prospect of reuniting with her sister, the weight of unresolved emotions and unanswered questions pressed upon her, an insistent reminder of the high price she paid for success.
If they both gave it a shot, maybe they could find reconciliation during their mournful stay on Hobby Island. Praying it could be so but dreading the alternative, Athena followed her sister.
Calista carried a forest-green shoulder bag and pulled a matching wheeled suitcase behind her. Dockworkers had already loaded Athena’s bags, and she could see them in the boat’s luggage cage.
“Here,” she said, reaching for Calista’s wheeled baggage. “Let me help.”
Calista shied away. “I’ve got it.”
“You sure?”
“Where are your bags?” her sister asked.
Athena blushed. “I—”
“What am I saying? Of course, the Dempsey strings already loaded your bags.” There was no missing the disdain dripping from her tongue.
Ouch. Okay, baby steps. Pace yourself. Long weekend.
They crossed the threshold from the wharf to the passenger ferry, and Athena suppressed an irresistible urge to take her sister’s hand the way she had when they were kids crossing the street.
The ticket agent, who wore a flat-brimmed boater’s hat with a red carnation tucked into the band, stamped the golden tickets they presented and handed them back with a wink.
“Your souvenir. Welcome to the Hobby Island ferry. The trip is about forty minutes. Help yourself to a cold drink.” He gestured to a wooden barrel filled with ice and various nonalcoholic beverages. “Enjoy the ride.”
Forty minutes in claustrophobic proximity without distractions? Terrific. How would they fill that much time?
“You want a drink?” Athena stopped beside the barrel filled with drinks.
“Sure.”
A positive answer. Yay! “Pink lemonade?” Athena wriggled her eyebrows. “Your favorite.”
“I’m not five anymore.”
Feeling chastised, Athena forced an unconcerned laugh. “What do you drink these days?”
“Unsweet tea if they’ve got it.”
Athena dug around in the barrel and found two bottles of tea. “Here we go.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?” Athena handed her a dazzling smile along with the ice-cold tea bottle.
Calista twisted off the lid and took a long swallow. “Try so hard.”
Athena started to object, but she was trying too hard. “How about we sit in the bow?” She gestured toward the seating at the front of the boat. “I know you prefer seeing what’s ahead instead of what’s behind you.”
Calista gave her an odd look but nodded.
Athena waited while her sister parked her luggage in the suitcase bin. She wanted to call her Lissy like before but feared crossing a boundary. She hadn’t yet earned back the right to such familiarity.
“Look, there’s an empty spot.” Athena led the way to the casual box seating.
There were no cars on this ferry, so plenty of space for passengers to sit.
Athena was about to ask Calista if she wanted to be next to the railing but worried that she was trying too hard, so she took the spot herself.
Calista sat down in the seat beside her, leaving a good two feet of space between them.
“Well,” Athena said. “This is pleasant. How have you been?”
“Over the last five years?” Calista’s tone was dry, but underneath, a hint of wry humor. Encouraging.
“Can I give you a hug?” Athena could have kicked herself for asking.
Calista shook her head and leaned away. “I—”
“Our mother just died.”
“A mother we hadn’t heard from in twenty years.” Calista pressed her lips together in a firm line and got a faraway look in her eyes.
Athena ached to hug her sister, but Calista was entitled to set her boundaries, and she needed to respect them, no matter how much it hurt. Okey dokey, bygones were not bygones. She must earn Calista’s forgiveness. All right. She’d respect it.
Silence fell between them, even as excited conversations from the other travelers buzzed the air, and seagulls cawed overhead. The ferry pulled away from the dock.
“This is awkward.” The tea bottle dripped condensation onto Athena’s bare knee, the icy cold a sharp contrast to the warm afternoon sun.
“Sit with it.”
“Huh?” Athena blinked at her.
“Sit with your feelings.”
Athena lifted one corner of her mouth. “You’ve been to therapy.”
“It was that or end up in a gutter with a heroin needle in my arm.”
“Calista!” Athena pressed a palm to her heart, horrified.
“Just speaking my truth.” Calista stabbed her with a hard stare.
“Was it that bad?” Her gut wrenched, thinking how much her sister had suffered.
“You have no idea.” Calista’s chestnut-brown eyes were matter-of-fact, unflinching.
Athena steeled herself. “I’d like to know about it . . . if you feel comfortable sharing.”
“I don’t.”
“Okay.” Athena hauled in a deep breath. “But I’m here if you do want to talk.”
“Noted.”
Fresh silence.
Trying not to be obvious, Athena pulled her phone from her purse to check the time.
They were five minutes into the forty-minute ferry ride, and Calista did not try to stir the conversation.
The boat’s engine rumbled beneath them, a subdued thrum that echoed Athena’s restless thoughts.
She watched Calista, waiting for a sign that forgiveness wasn’t as distant as it seemed.
“Hey, do you remember that time Mom brought us to Hobby Island?”
Calista stared at her as if she’d sprouted horns and wings and started breathing fire. “What are you talking about?”
“We’ve been here before.”
“When?”
Athena lifted her shoulders, then dropped them hard. “I was six or seven. That would make you four or five. It was maybe the first time she left Dad. He was on tour in England if I recall correctly.”
“I don’t remember that at all.” Stone-carved face. No expression, emotionless.
Athena thought about shutting up but soldiered on. “We built a mermaid sandcastle at the mouth of a hidden cove while baby turtles swam everywhere in the surf.”
“Oh.” Calista blinked and her eyes rounded. “I do remember the turtles. I had a bright blue sand pail with yellow starfish on it. I caught one of the turtles and put it in the bucket, but Mamá made me put it back. That was on Hobby Island?”
“I’m sure it was, but I was little, too, so I could have misremembered.”
“Huh.” Calista gazed off across the bow, but her slender shoulders seemed to relax a little. “What do you know.”
A tiny crack formed in her sister’s granite facade.
Calista bent forward, hiding her face. She’d lost weight, Athena noted.
Calista had been stockier when she played golf.
Their father kept her on a regimented, high-protein diet, telling her she needed bulk for power.
He’d been less strict with Athena, as usual.
Calista hugged herself and curled away from the railing.
“Are you chilly? We could move back out of the wind.”
“No.”
What was she supposed to do with that? Feeling the heaviness of their history pressing down, Athena cleared her throat. “I-I’m sorry for what happened. I know that’s not enough, but I just need to put that out there.”
Calista’s jaw clenched, but she nodded. That was a positive sign, right?
“Can we . . . I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but maybe we could . . . if . . . um . . .” Athena set her now tepid tea in the cupholder. “Do you think there’s any chance we could repair things?”
“To tell the truth, Athena”—her sister’s voice came out husky—“I have no idea.”
“I’m willing to try if you are.” Athena held her breath, waiting. The ball rested on her sister’s green. It was up to Calista to sink the putt. “I know it won’t be easy. I know sorrow and heartache will fill our time here. I know—”
“We’ll see,” Calista said, cutting her off. Then she got up and walked away, leaving Athena with no clue what to think.