Off Plan

by May Archer

  I squinted at him. “Are you insane?”

  Beale shrugged. “I mean, Thad—”

  “Was a closeted asshole who led him on and then literally got him beaten! That’s not on Fenn. God.”

  “Right. But you know, his mom and stepdad—”

  “Are homophobic assholes who abandoned him when he was at his lowest point. Also not on Fenn.”

  “Yeeeees,” Beale allowed. “But you know, his dad—my uncle Jared—left his mom before he was born—”

  “And then abandoned his responsibilities for years and left Fenn at the mercy of his mother and stepfather. Again, Beale, not seeing how this is about Fenn.”

  Beale gave me a lopsided smile. “You’re so good for him, Mason Bloom, and you don’t even know it.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not—”

  “To Fenn, Mason, every single one of those incidents, plus a hundred more besides, have been him not being worthy of being chosen.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “Come on,” he chided softly. “You’re a smart guy. Fenn’s mom wanted a nice, straight Christian boy. His stepfather wanted a man’s man, whatever the fuck that means. Thad wanted someone who would stay his dirty secret for as long as possible. Uncle Jared wanted someone who’d take care of him, in the end, and that’s what Fenn did for the first couple years he lived here, until Jared died. Even my dad, who loves Fenn to death and wants the world for him, has never bothered to try to understand what Fenn wants. It’s like they speak different dialects of the same language, and they have entire conversations at cross-purposes. It’d be funny if it weren’t so damn sad.” He sighed. “Nobody’s ever looked at Fenn and wanted him. Can you imagine what it’s like to have everyone you’ve ever loved turn you away or hold you at arm’s length?”

  My stomach inverted and filled with lead. I had to press a hand under my ribs. “Strong coffee,” I told Beale.

  “Sure.” The sympathetic look in his eyes said he knew better.

  “But,” I said, attempting to rally, “that has nothing to do with me, you know? Fenn doesn’t love me. This was a short-term thing—”

  “But it doesn’t have to be. You could stay here. My dad would shit himself.”

  “Charming.”

  Beale smiled affably and shrugged, unbothered. “Point is, you have a job here. You’re needed here. And not just any doctor—you specifically. Take the job.”

  I blew out a breath. “There are reasons why I can’t just take the job here, Beale. I need stability. I need… I need to not tie my entire life to a person who doesn’t want me. Every time our relationship gets the tiniest bit real, he gets scared off. He’s not all in with me. Which is fine! You know? Totally… very… understandable. That he doesn’t feel that way about me.” I tightened my free hand into a fist and shoved it in my pocket. “I’ve been down this road before. I was dating someone for a long time, and we broke up in January—”

  “A fiancée,” Beale said, nodding. “Yes, I know. You were going to spend your whole life with her, and no wonder! She’s perfect, and lovely, and blonde, and female, and everything you deserve in your life.”

  I stared at Beale in disbelief. “She what? Are you seeing visions now, Beale?”

  “Uh, no. Sadly. Did I forget to mention that I got Fenn drunk last night so I could figure out what the fuck was going on? Because I did. Sorry, not sorry.” He lifted one shoulder. “I heard a lot about how brilliant you are, how you make people feel good.” He ticked the items off on his fingers. “How he should never have gotten involved with you because he’ll never be truly happy now, but how you deserve a better life than you’ll ever have on Whispering Key. How fucking hot and passionate you are—heard that multiple times.” He ticked off four fingers, and I felt my face flame. “And how, after scrolling your Instagram, he cares enough about you to let you go.”

  My jaw dropped open. “Are you kidding me?”

  Beale shook his head.

  “That… that… giant asshole.”

  “No!” Beale’s eyes widened. “No, wait, you don’t under—”

  “He was doing the whole ‘if I love something I’ll set it free’ bullshit? On me? And after I tried to oh-so-casually bring up the idea of me staying on this freakin’ island and everything?” I shoved my empty cup in Beale’s direction, and he took it mutely. “He’s a dead man.”

  “Sure,” Beale agreed, nodding. “You can kill him. That’s fair. But maybe remember that with Fenn you have to be super explicit. Because he’s always going to default to the worst possible interpretation of whatever you said.”

  Like when I said I could never tie myself to someone like him?

  “Fuck.” I ran both hands through my hair. “Where is he?”

  “Fenn?” Beale’s face split in a grin. “He’s over on the Mary Anna.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the town center. “You heard about the storm, right? Gonna be a bad one tonight, so they’re battening down everything on the boat and at the Goodmen Outfitters office. But that means it’ll be the perfect night to stay in and make up.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Getcha plenty of supplies.”

  My cheeks went hot. “We’ll see about that. Still not entirely sure this will work out exactly how you hope it will.”

  “So… does this mean you’re taking the job?”

  From the back of the house came a joyous bark, followed by the clack of feet against Mr. Wynott’s pristine, wide pine floors, and then ten pounds of fur was launching itself against my midsection. I caught Topaz in my arms and lifted her to lick my face with her rough tongue.

  Mr. Wynott followed, shaking his head and grinning. “Topaz jumped the dog fence! She would not be restrained, Dr. Bloom! True love sees no barriers, only possibilities!”

  I snorted. These crazy people—Beale and Mr. Wynott, Big Rafe and Gloria, Young Rafe and Lety—had become really important to me in just a short period of time. I thought of Taffy, asking me if it were better to be a little important to a lot of people or really important to just a few, and I could now say unequivocally which I wanted.

  “Yeah,” I told Beale. “I’ll take it.” I was going to stay on Whispering Key.

  And I would be happy here even if Fenn and I didn’t work out. Hell, I would thrive… but I’d really prefer to thrive with Fenn, and I was beginning to think he’d prefer to thrive with me, too. So maybe… maybe it was time someone stuck around and fought for Fenn.

  “Then it will work out exactly the way I think,” Beale said with preternatural confidence. “And don’t tell Fenn, but I have a feeling about this.” He winked. “A really good feeling.”

  My lips twitched as I wrestled the furball in my arms. “So do I.” My phone rang and I dug it out of my pocket, full-on grinning when I read the display.

  “Mr. Goodman!” I said, my eyes on Beale’s encouraging ones as I accepted the call. “I have good news. Well, for me anyway. I’m afraid you’ll have to tell Dr. Aaron Smith that—”

  “Mason.” Rafe cut me off, his voice low and strained. “I need you to get out to the bunker right now. Gloria is… Her chest is tight, she says. She’s having trouble catching her breath. It’s like heatstroke, but worse.”

  Fuck. I’d been so worried about this. But clearly, not worried enough.

  “Sorry, Mr. Wynott. I can’t stay.” I set Topaz on the floor, caught Beale’s eye, and nodded toward the door. “You have a car?” Beale nodded. “I need a ride off the island. Now,” I whispered. To Rafe, I said, “Call for an ambulance, and Beale and I will—”

  “Would take a hundred years to get an ambulance out here over Cooter Key!” Rafe said. “Need you to get here now, Mason.”

  Shit.

  Beale drove his father’s pickup down Godfrey Pass like we were setting land speed records, going around the big curve in the road on two wheels. He hit a huge pothole in the center of the road, and the impact made the truck jump. My teeth clacked together when we landed again, and all the things in the bed of t
he truck—floating bumper-things and other boat-type accessories—crashed against one another.

  “Damn it,” Beale muttered as the car started making a rhythmic tat tat tat tat noise. “Tire’s blown, but we’ll get there.”

  He drove past the unmarked turnoff to the Goodman house and pulled into the motel parking lot instead. “Easier for Fenn to fix her up this way,” he said, though I hadn’t asked.

  I jumped out of the truck, pulling my keys from my pocket. “Beale, go up to my room and grab my first aid kid from under the table by the window, just in case. Meet me in the bunker.”

  I tore through the tree break and around the side of the Goodmans’ yard, through the market path and past the sign that said Mayor’s Office, to Rafe’s office bunker, which was standing wide open… and I skidded to a halt.

  The entry to the bunker was so fucking dark. Dark as a tomb. And whatever I’d told Fenn about how stupid the story was, my fear of the dark and being entombed was very, very real. How fucked-up was it that I was more afraid of a man-made dwelling than the woman struggling to breathe inside?

  Fenn’s words from the other night came back to me. “You’re strong as fuck, and you know the past can’t hurt you anymore…”

  I swallowed, huffed out a breath, and ducked inside.

  Gloria was lying on the big mahogany table in the middle of the room with Big Rafe standing next to her, wearing one of his goofy MAYOR T-shirts, holding her small hand in both of his. Her other hand was clasped to her chest as she labored to draw erratic breaths.

  “Doc!” Gloria said, trying to summon a smile when she saw me. “H-hey. I’m. Fine. Just. H-hurts. A bit. To. Breathe?”

  “Help me sit her up, Rafe,” I instructed, feeling for her pulse, which was steady but weak. “Beale’s bringing my bag, and then we’re gonna help you out to the car, okay? Gonna get you to the hospital.”

  Gloria shook her head as she swung her legs to one side of the table. “N-no! No. Hospital. I’m…” She heaved a breath. “Fine!”

  “Gloria, you remember those important tests I wanted you to get? There’s no delay now. You need them immediately.”

  “Tests?” Rafe scowled at both of us. “What tests?”

  “I. S-stopped. Wearing the. H-heels. It h-helped!”

  “Your feet were symptoms of the problem, Gloria, not the whole problem. Whatever’s going on with you is serious—”

  “R-rafe. Needs me. H-here!”

  Rafe’s forehead drew down in an impressive frown. “Christ alive, woman! I need you well.”

  She shook her head again, sending her red curls bobbing around her ghostly pale face. “Y-you have plans! F-for the.” Another deep breath. “Extravaganza. You said. No time to delay. You’ll. Be damned. If. You miss. This. Chance.”

  Rafe’s expression was stricken. “But not at the expense of the people I love. Damn it, Gloria, if you knew you needed tests, why wouldn’t you—”

  “Mr. Goodman.” I caught his eye and shook my head slightly. “There’ll be time for that later, okay? For now, we’re going to the hospital, and we’ll focus on getting you well.”

  Beale arrived and handed me the black backpack where I kept my supplies. I removed my stethoscope and listened to Gloria’s heart. There was a murmur there I hadn’t heard before.

  “We need a car,” I said, removing the earpieces. “The pickup has a flat. Who can we call?”

  “Fenn’s Charger’s in the lot,” Beale said. “He and Young Rafe took the Jeep to the dock today.”

  “That’s it,” Big Rafe agreed. “Keys are hanging in the utility closet off the kitchen, Mason. The keychain shaped like an alligator.”

  “You grab them,” I instructed. “Beale and I will get Gloria to the car. Grab her purse, too.”

  Rafe nodded and left.

  “Gloria,” I said, leaning down to speak to her. “This is the smart thing. I promise you.”

  She nodded mutely and focused on her breathing.

  Beale lifted Gloria in his arms as easily as I’d lifted Topaz and strode out of the bunker while I trailed behind them. Big Rafe met us halfway to the parking lot.

  Beale laid Gloria in the back seat of the Charger and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You feel better now, alright?”

  Gloria patted his hand weakly.

  “I’ll drive while you sit in the back with her, Mason,” Big Rafe instructed, rushing to open the doors. “Beale, you ride shotgun.”

  Beale shook his head. “Nah. Someone needs to stay here to make sure the house gets locked down for the storm. I’m on it. And I’ve got my bike, so I’ll ride up and make sure Rafe’s place is all battened down, too.”

  I slid into the open back door. “If you see Fenn…” I bit my lip. “Tell him I’m sorry and I’ll catch him later, okay?”

  Beale saluted, then Big Rafe backed out of the parking space and screamed out of the lot.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Fenn

  “Fuck.” My cousin Rafe threw his phone onto the captain’s chair in the cockpit and grabbed his water bottle. “Where the fuck is my dad? He was supposed to be back with the rest of the fenders and the extra tarps for the shack by midafternoon and it’s nearly four. Now he’s not even answering his damn phone.”

  I wrapped duct tape around the waterproof material that protected the navigation system just in case one of the windows broke and shrugged half-heartedly. “He’ll get here when he gets here, I guess. I’m sure he’s doing the best he can.”

  Rafe’s head went forward. “You realize you’re talking about my father, right? Rafe Goodman? Tall guy? Looks weirdly like me but hasn’t lifted a weight in ten years? You’re saying he’s doing the best he can?”

  I shrugged again.

  “Ohhh, I get it. This is a dead giveaway that you’ve been replaced by your evil twin, isn’t it? Who are you and what have you done with Fenn?”

  “Ha. Pass me the utility knife, please?”

  Rafe handed it over, but his gaze stayed fixed on my face. “You know, I might leave you here and go see where Dad got to.”

  “Sure.”

  “I might go get your Charger and take it for a spin.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Might go sell her to someone who isn’t a total punk when it comes to fixing cars and has the balls to actually say what he thinks and stand behind it.”

  “Gee.” I winced. “Thanks.”

  “All right, fuck off,” Rafe said, leaning against the console right where I was working and effectively blocking me in. “What’s going on with you?”

  A shit ton of things, but exactly two I’d cop to. “Tired and hungover. Could you move?”

  “Could. Won’t. Since when do you get drunk on a work night?”

  “On a work night, Principal Goodman?” I rolled my eyes. “Since your brother invited himself over and started pouring me shots with beer chasers.” I shuddered. “I haven’t been that wasted in a while.”

  “Beale poured you shots?” Rafe’s brow puckered. “Beale did?”

  “Beale Goodman,” I confirmed. “Tall guy. Looks weirdly like you, except attractive?”

  “Well, damn! Whose wake was it, and why wasn’t I informed?”

  “Nobody died.” I sighed deeply. No sense keeping secrets on an island like Whispering Key. “Mason and I ended things, and Beale was trying to be nosy and get details.”

  And he’d succeeded, the fucker. Before he’d forced me to drink three bottles of water and some Tylenol and tucked me in bed.

  Rafe snorted, then frowned more deeply. “Wait, you’re serious? You ended things with the doctor?” Rafe sounded annoyed.

  “Yep.”

  “Well, fuck, Fenn.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Since when do you care?”

  “Since…” He shook his head. “I dunno. He’s a good guy. What’d you do?”

  “Me?” I stood and closed the knife, then threw it on the chair next to Rafe’s phone. “I don’t know why you assume it was my fault.”

/>   “You’re saying he dumped you?”

  “I’m saying it was inevitable. He’s leaving Whispering Key, remember? He’s got a whole big fucking life to get back to. You know how this song goes better than anyone.”

  Of all the people in the world, or at least on this island, Rafe should get just how hard it sucked when someone you cared about left you behind.

  “I see,” Rafe said, nodding solemnly. “You see some similarities between me and Aimee, and you and Mason?”

  I shrugged. “Somewhat.”

  “Ah, Fenn.” Rafe clapped me on the shoulder as he headed out of the cockpit. “You’re such a fucking idiot.”

  Wait, what?

  “Uh, no, asshole.” I chased him out onto the rear deck. “I’m being smart.”

  Rafe laughed out loud and headed to check the slip line tied to the cleat closest to the dock. “Are you, sad panda? Doesn’t look like it. You’re being a little bitch, and I have no sympathy for you.”

  “Fuck you. I’m trying to have the courage to make the hard decisions now before Mason ties himself here and gets miserable. Maybe then I won’t end up like you did, all mopey and gross.”

  Rafe spun to face me. “Yeah, well, I earned the right to be mopey and gross! Aimee left despite all my best efforts to keep her here. She blew off the key in the middle of the night and left me a goddamn letter, and I still went after her. I hired a private investigator. Jayd almost took out a restraining order against me because I beat his ass. Remember all that?”

  I ground my molars together.

  “Meanwhile you are all, ‘Boo hoo! I cannot allow my beloved to stay here and live perfectly happily forever under the weight of my love! I must let him go, because I’m so fucking wise that I know what’s best for both of us, even though I can’t find my own ass with two hands and a headlamp!”

  “Who said I loved him?” I demanded. “I didn’t say love.”

  “You didn’t have to. It’s as obvious as the clouds on the horizon.” He pointed southwest, toward the roiling gray mass heading in our direction. “Stop being a baby and go tell him you lurve him. If you keep taking my insults, I’m gonna have to start dishing them out to Beale instead of you, and then no one will be happy.”