Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lennon
I help Anson, Parker, and Dad fill the coolers with ice. Anson packs one with beer.
We are spending the day out in the waters of the Atlantic to go deep-sea fishing. Something I used to love to do when I was a kid. Sebastian and I would beg to go on every single charter Gramps and Dad took out. We grew up on the decks of these vessels. It’s the reason I chose the Navy at seventeen. The ocean felt like home.
Gramps and Donnie Dale arrive with two large picnic baskets.
“Wade’s bringing leftover wings he and Eden got from Whiskey Joe’s last night too,” I say as I check out the contents of the baskets.
Nana and Mom loaded them with sandwiches, chips, beef jerky, and several containers of cookies.
“Last night’s cold wings and beer? It’s like old times,” Anson says.
“At least we won’t starve out there,” Gramps muses.
Once Wade and Sebastian arrive with a couple of Avie’s cousins’ husbands in tow, we push off from the dock just as the sunlight starts to kiss the horizon, lighting up the Atlantic in shades of gold. The boat rocks gently with the early morning breeze.
I glance over at Dad, who is adjusting his grip on the wheel, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He’s not much of a morning person nowadays, but something about the sea brings him alive. I know he misses this. He used to work alongside Gramps and Donnie Dale, running the charters. But epilepsy took him off captain duty and restricted him to the office, bringing Sebastian back to the island to help run the business. I guess that’s why he’s been talking about this trip for weeks, planning it down to the last detail.
Gramps is sitting in the back of the boat, his white hair poking out from under a weathered baseball cap. He’s already got his fishing rod in hand, ready to cast his line out into the deep—his natural habitat. There’s a peacefulness in the way he sits, the way he looks out over the water. A lifetime of memories stored behind his eyes.
Sebastian leans against the railing, his tall frame relaxed in a way that only he can manage. Even though the wedding is just a little over a week away, he seems as carefree as ever, like nothing can touch him. I wish I could feel that way.
“You ready for this, Lennon?”
His voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I realize he’s looking at me, a teasing grin on his face.
I nod. “Yeah, I’m ready. Just don’t expect me to catch anything big. I’m out of practice.”
He laughs. “Don’t worry, big brother. You stick with me, and we’ll land something that’ll make Gramps proud.”
“I thought we were all here because you’d already caught the big prize,” I say. And Avie is just that, as close to perfection as he could have asked for.
I’m the oldest, but it’s hard not to feel like I’m always a step behind, trying to catch up.
Dad cuts the engine, and the boat settles into the rhythm of the waves. The sound of the ocean surrounds us. I move to the edge of the boat, picking up one of the rods and fumbling with the reel. I’m not completely clueless about fishing, but it’s been a while since I’ve done any of this.
Wade, Anson, and Parker don’t even pretend to be here to fish. The three of them are eased back on one of the leather benches, each with a beer in hand.
I raise a brow at them. “Already?”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” Anson sings.
Gramps glances over at me, a small smile on his face. “Need some help with that, Lennon?”
I shake my head, trying to seem confident. “I’ve got it, Gramps. Thanks.”
He nods, but there’s something in his eyes that tells me he knows better. We’ve never been able to get anything over on him, even when I was a kid, trying to hide that I’d broken his favorite fishing rod. He always knows.
The first hour passes slowly, the sun climbing higher into the sky. We’re all spread out across the boat, casting our lines and waiting. Waiting for the fish.
Girls are so good at this shit. Everything they do is a bonding experience that ties them all together. That’s what this is supposed to be for all of us before Sebastian gets married.
I glance over at Dad, who’s standing at the wheel, staring out at the water. He hasn’t said much since we left the dock, and I wonder if he’s feeling the same pressure. The pressure to make this day special, to create memories.
“Damn, we’re a sad lot,” Anson says. “We’re supposed to be celebrating.”
He reaches into the cooler and starts tossing beers to all of us.
I catch the can and pop the top.
“I’m trying to wake up,” Wade groans as he rakes his hand over his face.
“That’s what happens when you hook up with a youngin. She wears your ass out,” Anson teases.
Wade cuts his eyes to him. “Damn straight.”
“I need to find me a woman half my age,” Anson mutters.
Parker twists the tab off his can and tosses it at him. “A woman half your age would land you in prison, dumbass.”
“Oh, right.”
After a few beers, the group perks up and starts placing hourly bets. Which has us all doing our best to pull in the biggest catch.
Gramps, Donnie Dale, and Dad spring into mentor mode and walk around the boat, instructing everyone as we wrestle the sea monsters that have finally decided to come out and play.
We break a lot of lines and share a lot of laughs. Sam, one of the cousins’ husbands, who’s never fished a day in his life, hooks a nearly seventy-pound cobia.
“I wish the girls were here. They’d get a kick out of helping us,” Wade says.
“Leia begged to come with me this morning. It wasn’t until Nana pulled out a poofy pink dress that the tears stopped,” Seb muses.
“As competitive as Amiya is, she’d be my only chance at winning any money from you guys,” I say.
All their eyes come to me.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Wade says, his eyes filled with amusement.
I narrow mine at him.
“You just casually tossed that out there like you were claiming Amiya as yours,” he says.
“As a fishing partner,” I state.
“Yeah, like Eden would be Wade’s, and Avie would be Sebastian’s, and Milly would be your dad’s. You see where I’m going with this,” Parker adds.
“Yep. I got it,” I snap.
“Something you want to share, son?” Dad asks.
“Nope,” I say.
“Ah, come on. Don’t be like that,” Anson goads.
“Who needs the women to come along when we have the lot of you fuckers?” I mumble.