8 months later
Nick
The previous owner said his daughter named the vessel. She was obsessed with folklore and fairytales when she was little, and he wanted her with him whenever he had to be away from home.
I guess his fairytale is getting a happy ending of its own, since he was selling the Merlin to move down to Michigan and be closer to his grandkids. With a story like that, and a little touch of luck, there’s no way I was going to change the boat’s name.
There will never be any replacement for what the Suoja meant to me, but the Merlin fills a void all the same. There’s a sense of pride that comes with preserving someone else’s legacy. A peace to be found in all the new memories we’ve already made so far.
Memories of Seth sliding over the classified ad while we were having a cup of coffee out on the patio. Asking me, “What do you think? I know she’s a fixer-upper, but you love a project.”
Memories of us touring the vessel for the first time, seeing the potential in her bones even though the mechanics look like they belong in a museum.
Memories of our Squid, our St. Bernard-husky mutt, bounding around on deck in search of barnacle-crusted rope to chew on and trouble to get into.
And many, many memories with all the people who have come out to help get the Merlin into working order.
Perry, Orlov, and Jorgensen have all taken up other gigs here and there, but in their free time they come by to lend a hand. There’s always work waiting for them—painting, grinding rust, hauling equipment, scrubbing at questionable stains and stubborn gunk.
I wasn’t sure if they’d ever want to head out on a boat again, let alone with me, after what we went through.
But then again, we all have to be a little crazy to do what we do.
Apparently the food’s not as good on other vessels, and that’s more than enough motivation for them to help me get mine up and running.
Jorgensen declared early on, with all the confidence of someone whose brain isn’t fully developed, that near-death experiences happen once in a lifetime and he’s glad we got ours out of the way.
That’s not quite how it works, but I admire his optimism.
And my dad—he’s been with me and Seth every step of the way.
I told him there was no need to come back to Alaska and pull himself out of retirement.
But four days after I got the boat, he showed up with his tools and his thermos and a wealth of opinions about the work we’ve done so far, and two months later, he’s still here.
Truth be told, his experience has been invaluable when it comes to running into snags we’ve never seen before. Things that were done way differently four decades ago than they are now.
I’m sure part of it is that he wants to make sure the work’s done properly, that I’ll be safe out there. But I can also tell how much he missed being out on the water. How much it means to him to leave his mark on the future I’m rebuilding as a captain.
I watch him sometimes, completely at home in every room of the ship, and I don’t know if I can picture myself giving up this life in thirty years either. I’m not sure whether that’s comforting or not, but some people spend their whole lives searching for a purpose. I’ve known mine all along.
And then there’s Seth, who’s worked beside me all these early mornings and late evenings. Sometimes in easy silence, but most times full of long talks and laughter. Every time involves chasing after Squid. She’s more interested in rubber-handled tools than she is in any of the toys we buy her.
“Squid!” My father shouts somewhere on the deck above. Right on cue.
Seth and I shoot each other a glance from across the engine room while I check the new battery and he tops off fluids. Laughing as we hear a set of paws and a set of footsteps thumping overhead.
“Think we need to intervene?” Seth asks.
“Nah,” I say as a few more people start shuffling around and shouting. “I think they’ve got it covered.”
Everybody came out today for the first engine start. Perry, Orlov, Jorgensen, my father. So hopefully we can manage more than an unsuccessful attempt.
We’ve got our work cut out for us with everything else, especially the cosmetics. We’ll be lucky if we make it out of the harbor by spring, but the engine’s been our biggest, most expensive project. With the structure finally in order, we can move on to the more tedious items on the to-do list.
Seth sets down the empty jug of oil, walking me back against the ladder while I watch the memory play out in his eyes—that time on the Suoja. “Guess this’ll have to be the first room we christen, if it’s the first room we get finished.”
“We don’t have to christen the live well or the cold storage, do we?” I joke, hoping it comes out as light and breezy as I intend.
I’ve been on edge around him all day. Thank God there’s been plenty of excuses to put my head down and focus, because every time he looks at me the way he is right now—open, honest brown eyes and that damn smile—my lips start to twitch and my palms get clammy.
He laughs and presses his lips to mine. He tastes like a mix of sweat and the cherry coke he’s been drinking while we work. I’d just managed to calm my nerves again, but his kiss has me tucking my hands in my pockets before he sees the way he makes me shake.
Thankfully, we’re saved by the grinding squeal of someone opening the door to the engine room.
“Everything almost ready down here?” my dad calls out. “Chum”—Squid’s alternate name, when she’s in trouble—“ate my sandwich and tore up my tool box.”
“Yeah. Coming up! We just finished.”
Seth sends me up the ladder with a smack to my ass and follows behind, the three of us heading to the bridge.
Below, the others have gathered on deck and are popping caps on a round of beers. Squid is peering over the side of the boat, her paws hooked over the bulwark.
Jorgensen starts a countdown almost immediately, only to become the punchline himself when nothing happens. I haven’t finished running the blower yet to clear out the lingering fuel vapors.
It’s weird seeing them down there again, shooting the shit, even though that’s business as usual. I don’t know what to make of it until it hits me. For the past nine months, they’ve only been my friends. Now, I have a crew again.
“Wanna do the honors?” I ask Seth, pointing down to the key.
“No way.” He backs up, hands raised. “That’s all you.”
I turn the key.
The engine cranks. Stalls. Cranks again when I give the key a second turn.
For a minute, I worry I’m about to have to take the damn engine apart again. I have no idea what we could’ve done wrong.
But finally, it starts.
The engine turns over with a powerful growl.
Rolling thunder that travels through the structure of the boat and vibrates under the soles of my feet.
The anxious anticipation in my chest unravels, and I let out a startled laugh as the guys down on deck pat each others’ backs and celebrate—Perry and Jorgensen sounding like a couple of gulls while Orlov gives us a silent thumbs up.
“Now we’re in business.” Seth claps my shoulders, squeezing them affectionately. “Way to go, Captain Lundvall.”
“It was a team effort. I can’t take all the credit.”
“You’ve worked your ass off for this. Let me compliment you, Nicky.”
My father, the first Captain Lundvall, smiles as he takes us both in. I get the distinct impression it’s not because of our first start on the Merlin. It’s because he’s the only one on board who knows what I’ve got tucked away in the left side pocket of my cargo pants.
We give it fifteen minutes or so before heading back down to the engine room and confirming everything looks to be running properly.
There are a few small leaks to address later, but other than that, we’re in good shape.
This time next week, we’ll be in the thick of troubleshooting the electrical instead.
There’s plenty of sunlight left when we meet on deck and call it quits for the day. It’s only around five, and it’ll be another three and a half hours before it goes down.
“We’re heading over to Amalie’s,” Jorgensen says. “Coming with?”
I feel a little guilty that Seth looks like he wants to go out with everyone. Hell, I do too. But the Merlin isn’t what I want to celebrate.
“There’s one last thing I want to finish up first,” I say. “We could meet you there in a bit?”
“Only if you promise to kick his ass at darts when you get there,” Perry says, miming I’m watching you at Seth.
“I’ll have you know, I’m more determined than ever to beat my last winning streak,” Seth says.
“I’ll destroy all you kids when you get there,” my dad says. He’s in for a shock when he finds out how good Seth is, but for now, that effectively redirects the attention onto him.
The guys’ faces all light up. Captain Paul Lundvall has stories upon stories, and a reputation around Dutch that precedes him. Safe to say, he’ll have an easy time keeping our friends entertained for as long as necessary.
“Thanks everybody,” I say as they leave us with a handshake, a pat on the back, and a few scratches between Squid’s ears. “I couldn’t have done this without you guys.”
My dad pulls me into a hug before he goes, his eyes roving briefly between the two of us. “Don’t work too late, you two.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” Seth says, returning my dad’s hug and smile.
And then Dad’s stepping off the boat, and it’s just the two of us at the dock. Watching the others walk away.
“What else did you wanna do tonight?” Seth asks. “Seriously, you’ve put in a ton of work. It’s okay to relax, you know.”
“Just… come with me,” I say. Too jittery to come up with an excuse.
Seth raises a brow when I take his hand, pulling him along to the bow.
“Oh.” He smiles as he sits beside me. “So you do wanna christen the engine room first?”
I laugh through my nose, grabbing a couple of beers out of the cooler I left out here for the guys.
My hands tremble as I pop the caps off and hand one to Seth.
“Maybe I just wanted a minute alone to thank you. For everything. We might not have gotten this thing running without the whole team, but none of this would’ve happened at all if not for you. ”
He clinks the glass necks together, his eyes softening. “You know it’s the same for me, right? I’d be a whole lotta nowhere without you, Nicky. I wouldn’t be happy, that’s for sure.”
Fuck. I can feel my heart beating everywhere. In my throat, my ears, my stomach, my twitchy arms and legs.
When I take a sip of beer, the bubbles nearly make me throw up from how tight my chest is.
Squid trots over and sticks her nose in both of our faces before she flops down and chews on the sole of Seth’s boot, so I run my fingers through her soft fur and look out at the water.
Trying to calm myself like the placid surface, reflecting the dusky hues of the late afternoon sky.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
I reach into my pocket. “I got you something.”
“Yeah?”
He turns to look at me, and I hand him the gloves.
They’re good ones, like the pair he bought me last fall. We haven’t been out on a commercial gig since last season, so he hasn’t had a chance to replace his old ones. It’s getting colder now though, and he’s gonna need them.
He takes them, turns them over in his hands, and I watch his face. The small, sentimental smile. “What, do these have their own built-in generator or something?” he teases. “Individual finger warmers?”
Jesus, my cheeks are shaking when I smile back at him. Bad. “No. They’re pretty damn warm though. Try them on.”
He slips on the right one first, testing the fit of the fabric. “No kidding, these are nice.” He pulls on the left one next. “Thank you—”
He cuts himself off and goes completely still, looking back at me with wide eyes that say so much, yet nothing specific enough to ease my nerves.
As smoothly as he put the glove on, he slips it back off. The ring falls out of the finger of the glove into his palm. A plain platinum band.
“Nicky…” His voice is made up of breath and effort. “What is this?”
“I know it’s sort of fast. I know we haven’t talked about—” I stop and start again. Fucking hell, I knew I was going to botch this, even though I’ve run the words through my head a million times at this point.
“I’ve had that ring for a month, trying to figure out the perfect moment to ask you.
But that ended up being impossible, because I love every moment with you,” I start over, getting onto one knee and closing my hand over his.
The ring warms between our palms. “And I want a lifetime of those moments. You’re my best friend, Seth.
You are… everything to me. And I love you. ”
Seth looks at me, eyes glassy as he squeezes my hand.
“Will you marry me?”
Seth pulls me in by our joined hands. Cupping the back of my head and kissing me so deeply I wonder if he can feel the pounding rhythm of my heartbeat against his smiling lips. “I’ll marry you right now. You’re the Captain. Make it happen.”
I laugh breathlessly. Out of relief, out of excitement. Out of the fact that there’s a wet puppy nose and slobbery tongue invading our personal space. “You know that’s an old myth, right? I’m not ordained.”
Seth strokes the back of my head as I pull back, taking the ring from his hand and turning it over. Something wells up inside of me as I slip the band onto his finger, polished metal against his warm summer skin tone.
This time next year, and every year after that, there will be a tan line in its place.
I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing as he looks down at the ring, then back at me. “My mother would probably kill me if she didn’t get an invite, huh?”
“I don’t know who’d be more pissed—your mother or mine.”
“Or Jorg. Missing out on an open bar.”
I’m still coming down on adrenaline and soaring high on dopamine, so I laugh excessively. Then laugh even louder when Squid starts gnawing on the platinum band.
“I waited four years for you.” Seth kisses me again. “I guess I can wait a little longer.”