Chapter 3
Chapter Three
M itch had gone for his run, showered, and eaten breakfast. Nothing fancy this morning, just eggs and sausage with a side of toast spread with jam from the farmer’s market.
Joyce had been bustling about, prepping food for later, cleaning, doing laundry, airing out the guest rooms. For what reason, Mitch had no idea, but he supposed she felt the need to do as much as possible, since he was paying to fly her sister over.
He wasn’t doing it to get more work out of her or make her feel indebted to him in some way. Joyce already did a lot for him. Nearly everything that needed doing. She honestly kept him alive. She’d done so much for him and Jeanie. And Kyle. Flying Joyce’s sister over was just something he felt compelled to do for her. It was the best way he knew to show her his appreciation.
She’d been too busy to chat more than a few words this morning, which was fine. He understood. He’d be writing later, and he wouldn’t want to be disturbed then, but he had something else that needed taking care of first.
The boat.
It was his own fault for deciding, in a moment of what now seemed like overenthusiastic foolishness, that it would be a good idea to take everyone out on it. He’d had a good day and was feeling better than he had in a while, and he’d acted impulsively.
He needed to be better about that. He was so unused to being happy that experiencing it felt like a kind of intoxication.
Now, as he drove his golf cart to the Hideaway Bay Marina, he realized he probably wouldn’t be able to go through with this boating excursion.
The boat had been Jeanie’s thing. Which wasn’t to say he didn’t like it. He did. It was a great boat and they’d spent a ridiculous amount of money on it, but he hadn’t cared. Making Jeanie happy was all that had mattered.
He’d loved spending time on it with her and Kyle. Jeanie had been in her element on the water. She loved watching for dolphins, standing at the bow to let the spray wash over her, or even just napping on the deck while the waves rocked her into a dreamy state of bliss. She took tons of photos, some of which they’d blown up and had framed.
With Joyce’s help, she’d pack a cooler with a picnic lunch and lots of snacks and drinks. There was nothing she loved more than when Mitch abandoned his laptop to take her and Kyle out for the day.
Kyle often fished when they went out. Or sometimes, he’d hook up the tube and take a ride behind the boat.
Usually, they’d explore the river, but once in a while, they’d head out to the ocean. They’d snorkel if the water conditions were right.
After Kyle had left for college, Mitch and Jeanie tried to get out early every few weeks to watch the sunrise with a steaming thermos of coffee. Those mornings had been truly extraordinary. Just the two of them, watching the sun paint the sky in vivid pinks and oranges, feeling like no one else in the world existed.
He’d give anything for one more morning like that.
But it would never happen again, and he knew it. The knowledge sat in his gut like a stone, cold and heavy. His memory of their last outing was almost too painful to recall. They’d both known it was their last time together on the boat.
They’d sat and watched the water, her in his arms, both of them tearful and quiet and unable to do more than cling to each other.
How was he supposed to get on that boat again? How was he supposed to entertain on that boat now? But canceling on his friends didn’t feel doable. Tomorrow was going to be a miserable day.
The memories of Jeanie played in his head as he pulled onto Marina Lane. He drove past the short stretch of hedges marking the entrance, and parked. He was surprised there weren’t more golf carts in the lot. It was a beautiful day. The perfect day to be on the water.
But then again, not everyone had the luxury of working from home as he did. Of course, how many beautiful days had passed him by? Days he’d been oblivious to anything but his own grief. More than he wanted to count.
He climbed out of the golf cart, dropping the keys into the pocket of his shorts.
Kai Shuster stepped out of the marina’s office, squinting at Mitch like he wasn’t sure who he was seeing. Then his eyes widened, and he waved. “Mr. Ripley! Hey! Nice to see you.”
Mitch raised his hand in greeting. “Morning.”
Kai was the marina master and had been for at least the last seven or eight years. He looked exactly like what he was: A beach bum-surfer-boat enthusiast. He was perpetually tan, wiry and lean, and never seemed to be without his puka shell necklace or braided fisherman’s bracelet.
From what Mitch knew about him, he’d done a stint in the Coast Guard, but had injured his shoulder and been released with an honorable medical discharge. He’d lived all over Florida but had settled here when he’d gotten the job in Hideway Bay.
Kai grinned and ran his hand through his sun-bleached hair. “Haven’t seen you around here in a while.”
Mitch shook his head. “Haven’t been around here in a while. How’s the boat?” He paid Kai, like several of the other residents of Hideaway Bay did, to maintain the craft.
“She’s in great shape. Taking her out? She’s ready to go.”
“No, not today.” Mitch shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling the soft, buoyant foam keychain attached to the boat keys. “Just thought I’d check her out. Probably going to take her out tomorrow.”
“Well, she’s right where you left her and ready to go. Slip seven. You need anything, just give me a shout. Be happy to stock up the fridge or whatever.”
“Will do.” Mitch continued on past the marina’s office, down the composite decking boardwalk to the last dock that jutted into the river. He got about halfway before he stopped, the cobalt blue hull of the boat just in front of him.
A sudden wave of grief washed over him. Any minute now, Jeanie would appear on deck, her smile brighter than the sun, her hand up to shield her eyes, and she’d tell him to get a move on. That they were wasting daylight. She always thought that was funny.
But she wasn’t going to appear.
He squeezed his eyes shut, thankful for the sunglasses that gave him a small barrier against the world around him. If he couldn’t get on the boat, he’d never be able to take it out onto the water.
This was the dumbest idea he’d had in a long time. What had made him think he could do this? He should have kept his mouth shut.
Jeanie would think he was being ridiculous, he knew that. But knowing that and making himself do anything about it were two very different things.
He took one step forward. He could do this. It was just a boat. Yes, it held as many memories as the house, maybe more because of the quality time they’d spent on board, but it was an inanimate object.
He should be able to do this. He inhaled deeply, then blew the air out. Snap out of it. Get on the boat and you’ll be fine. Do you really want to tell Harper you have to cancel? What reason are you going to give her? The truth?
He shook his head. He didn’t want to tell her that. Not when she thought he was making progress. Which he was. But this might set him back.
There was only one way to find out.
Using some inner fortitude he didn’t know he had, he walked the rest of the way to the boat and climbed on board. It felt bigger than he’d remembered. Maybe because he was so unused to being on it alone.
His gaze drifted over the seating areas, across the cockpit, and to the entrance that led down into the cabin. He and Jeanie had spent some weekends on the boat, usually after he’d turned a book in and was ready for a real break. They often went up the river a bit, to where it widened, and anchored there.
A few times, after Kyle had gone off to college, they’d taken longer trips down to the Keys.
Mitch moved toward the cabin out of habit, going down the steps. As soon as his feet touched the floor, he picked up the subtle scent of Jeanie.
How had he thought he could do this? There was so much of her still here. He ran his hand over the small galley countertop, remembering the times she’d made dinner for them here. The laughter that had filled this small cabin. The love.
He tried to think positively, like Jeanie would. Maybe…maybe taking the boat out with Harper, Frankie, Willa, and Lucas was exactly the thing to do.
This boat had always been a happy place. He certainly couldn’t be happy on it now alone. But with all of them here, and the dogs, maybe he’d be able to enjoy a different kind of happiness. He sat at the dining booth, the cushion sighing softly under his weight. He rested his arms on the table.
He needed some new memories. His old ones, while happy, made him miserable. He wasn’t trying to replace Jeanie, not in any way. But having something else to fill his head with, that might be just what he needed.
He took a breath. It wasn’t going to be easy. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t be as difficult as he thought with the distraction of so many people around him.
There was only one way to find out. And that was to go ahead with the plans. Hesitantly, he got up and went out to talk to Kai about getting the boat ready for tomorrow’s adventure.