by Vivian Wood
I turn around, pressing the button for the top floor. He is right behind me, eyeing me.
“We are going to have fun.”
I can’t speak. There’s too much carnal tension in the air. I just bite my lip and nod.
As the doors close, he reaches for me again.
2
Luna
I have everything I want.
Well… almost everything. I have money. I have a career. I have male company, if I want it.
That’s enough, right?
I stare down at a brilliant gray piece of fabric in my hands. Unsurprisingly, it holds no answers for me. Sighing, I try to shift my focus back to the little dress shop I’m in with my two best friends.
We’re in downtown Seattle, browsing through the racks in a tiny one-room shop. Brunette, willowy, and beautiful Cate is trying on a few garments behind a dressing room made mostly of a blue velvet curtain.
Red-haired Harper is taller than the two of us and a little more substantially built but she’s absolutely gorgeous; she just has the perfect proportions and absolutely slays everything she wears. At the moment, she’s perusing the jewelry on a table with gentle hands
Meanwhile I keep pulling out dresses, touching them, making a dissatisfied expression, and then putting them back.
Pulling a dress off the rack, I take it to the mirror and flatten it against myself. I’m blonde and thin, kept that way by an hour and a half of running every day. The pink velour dress could flatter my pale complexion… and the dress’s high collar does make my heart-shaped face and high cheekbones seem more pronounced.
Taking another moment to glance at the dusty pink against my deep-set ocean blue eyes, I sigh.
The dress is good. Great, even. But I own a thousand dresses that are great; I’m looking for something spectacular.
“I can’t believe Luca is making me go on this trip!” Cate declares from behind the fitting room curtain. “Who knew he cared about going to see the mezcal being made in Oaxaca?”
“That’s my brother,” I say with a shrug. “He’s always been like that. If you didn’t want to go on weird booze-related adventures, you shouldn’t have accidentally married a rich bar owner. There are remedies for it, the first being divorce.”
Cate sticks her head out, turning a delicate pink. She shoots me a look. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll keep him. Why on earth are you so cranky, anyway?”
Harper scrunches her face up, turning away from the jewelry table. “Yeah Luna, you’ve been snippy all morning. What have we missed? Is it medical school-related?”
I clear my throat, blushing a little. “Sorry. I’m trying really hard to keep things under wraps. But I’m doing a bad job, obviously.”
Cate frowns and pushes back the curtain. She’s wearing a dress that I really like, a strappy little plum-colored dress. Only because she’s Cate, she put on a white dress shirt under the velvet dress. It looks stylish, but also sort of chaste.
I smile because I like to think that I’m the reason that Cate abandoned her old wardrobe of full length, drab gray dresses. Of course, marrying my brother Luca also likely played a big role…
“What things are you talking about?” Cate asks.
Letting the dress I’m holding drop back into place on the rack, I shift my stance with a sigh. “You know how I missed a bunch of classes lately because my uterus hates me?”
Harper comes over to where I’m standing, a dress catching her eye. She examines it as she talks. “Yeah. Endometriosis, right? It makes you have ultra-bad periods. Lots of bleeding and pain. It’s like your uterus is Rambo on steroids and it has a vendetta against you every month.”
My lips lift at the corners. “I haven’t quite heard it put to me that way before, but sure.”
“Harper is great with summarizing things in the most elegant way possible,” Cate giggles.
Harper winks in a very exaggerated way and we all chuckle. I shake my head.
“Okay, well… during one of the classes I missed, they announced summer internships. These are a big deal. Having a successful one on our CV basically means that when we’re interns, we are placed with the best residents.”
I pause to make sure that Cate and Harper are still with me. Cate nods and Harper cocks her head. I push onward.
“Since I missed that day of class, I missed the last three months of signups for internships. The only one left is with a place called Aurora Borealis Charters.” I make a face. “It’s a place where you can rent a boat and a crew to take you sailing up the coast to Alaska.”
Both Cate and Harper look surprised. Harper leans in with a sly look.
“Are you telling me that you, a fairytale princess who is going to be a doctor, will have to live on a boat for a few days?” She grins. “But how will your wardrobe fit on the boat? Oooh, I know. You could hire another boat to follow you around and keep your closet on board.”
Cate laughs at that. I shoot Harper a glare.
“Very funny,” I mutter. “I admit, it’s not the most ideal position for me. But it’s literally the only one left.”
Cate jumps in. “I’m sure that it won’t be that bad. I mean, other people have done it before, right?”
“Yeah.” I nod. I step away from the racks of clothing with a sigh. “It’s just… this is sort of a last chance for me. I struggled this year with my classes and my endometriosis diagnosis. I went on hormonal birth control and it’s all much calmer now, but…” I pause, taking a deep breath. “I have to prove myself this summer. And to do that, I have to get hired first.”
Harper moves a little closer, touching my arm. “You will get hired. I know it.”
“Any place would be lucky to have you,” Cate chimes in. “Honestly. There is a reason that Harper teases you about how you’re a fairytale princess, and it’s not just because you are well-dressed. It seems like everything you touch just…” She makes a gesture with both hands. “Flourishes.”
I smile at her. “Thank you. That’s very kind.” I look her up and down. “You’re planning on getting that exact outfit, right? Cause it’s cute.”
Cate flushes, brushing her hands down her front. “I think so, yes.”
“Good.” I spin on my heel. “Harper, you’re looking for a necklace, right?”
She nods. “Yeah, but I don’t see anything here that’s quite right.”
“Did you look at the pendants hanging on the mannequin in the front window?” I ask, pointing toward it. “I thought they were both precious.”
Her eyes light up. “No.” She walks over to the mannequin, turning it slightly. “Ah, this one is perfect. I just need something to wear with my full length black Stevie Nicks dress.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, my attention drawn to a pink silk halter top. “What have you got planned? A date, maybe?”
I turn back to Harper and find her cheeks pinking up. “Oh, you know. Nothing really. It’s just, Smith is in town…”
“Oh, so you’re finally going to tell Smith that you love him and want to have his babies?” Cate asks.
Harper fires a glare at Cate, but Cate just ducks back beneath the blue velvet curtain.
“Smith and I are just friends,” Harper says. Her face is so red by this point that I can’t help but rib her a little more.
“You keep saying that, but I don’t think you know what that means.” I smile at her.
“If you think that talking about Smith is going to make me forget about your dating situation, you are just sorely mistaken,” Harper fires back. “What happened with that cute college professor you went out with? What was his name?”
“Carter.” I smile thinly. “It turns out that he’s off limits. He works for the medical school and he was directly responsible for my grades.”
Harper’s eyebrows go up. “Isn’t that kind of hot? Some super secret, sneaking around kind of passion?”
“It would be if he wasn’t like totally into some other girl.” I shrug. “He didn’t say who, but h
e was obviously head over heels for some lucky girl. It’s too bad because he was sooooo hot.”
Pouting, I pull the hanger holding the pink halter off of the rack. Cate pokes her head out of the changing room, pulling a face. “Well that’s a bummer.”
“Yeah. Really though, I should be focusing on this internship anyway.”
I carry the halter top to the front. The girl behind the counter silently starts checking me out. I pull out my credit card, smiling lightly. Cate trails behind me, holding the dress and the shirt she just modeled.
“Not to be a downer, but maybe you should try to date someone with a little bit of substance,” she suggests gently. “Someone that might be challenging to you.”
Harper joins us, holding her necklace. “She’s not wrong.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m fine. You guys know how I feel. I can’t have a family, so I might as well pour everything into work right now. Then I can focus on my dating life after my residency. In the meantime, I can just relax and enjoy some guys that I have absolutely nothing else in common with. Just me, and them, and their abs.”
I wiggle my eyebrows. Cate and Harper have heard this all before and they both roll their eyes.
“But it’s so boring,” Cate complains. “I swear, I don’t even know the names of the last few guys you dated.”
I grab Harper and Cate’s purchases. “Will you please put these on my card? Thanks.”
“Luna!” Harper protests. Cate bites her tongue but doesn’t look exactly happy.
“No more questions about my love life!” I insist. “Really, it’s fine. I feel fine.”
“I’m definitely getting all of us ice cream as soon as we leave here,” Cate says firmly.
Harper just accepts her necklace with a sharp look. “Thank you.”
Yeah, my friends may not love how I use money to end a conversation I don’t want to be in. But they don’t protest too hard, especially not Cate. She’s using what is presumably Luca’s card anyway; all his money and mine come from the same place more or less.
As we make our way out of the shop, I look up into the bright May daylight. It’s warm today, making me second guess my decision to add a light jacket over my dress.
Undeterred, Cate takes charge. She points. “Look, there’s a Salt & Straw across the street. I wasn’t kidding about buying everyone ice cream.”
“Well, if I must,” I say with a grin. I subsist mainly on sugar, which everyone knows.
As we cross the road, Harper pipes up. “Do they have new flavors yet? Last time I was here in October they had this chocolate marionberry flavor that was like eating a little piece of heaven.”
“Mmm, that sounds good,” Cate says.
We reach the plate glass door, Cate leading the way inside. Harper is next and then I follow. Distracted by my phone, I don’t realize we are stopping until I stumble into Harper’s legs.
I look up to find Cate helping a dark-headed little girl in a periwinkle blue dress put her shoe back on. My heart squeezes painfully. The little girl is so cute, telling Cate about what flavor of ice cream she’s going to try. Cate beams at her, talking to her gently. The girl’s mother realizes that her daughter is lagging behind and turns, pulling the little girl into her arms.
God, the little girl is a perfect replica of her mother.
And that’s enough. I stand stiffly, turning and pushing my way back out of the store. Tears prick my eyes.
I’ll never, ever have that moment. I’ll never be anyone’s mother. And it tears me up inside, knowing that the one thing I so desperately want, I just can’t have.
As I turn away from the shop and breathe out, I scold myself.
You have everything else you could ever want.
Not everything in life is fair, is it?
Life is definitely unfair. I breathe in, blotting at my eyes. Harper pops her head outside of the shop.
“Luna? Are you okay, hon?”
I stand straight, nodding but not looking at her.
“Totally,” I say, my voice watery. This is far from the first time that I’ve cried over a child or a baby in public. My friends know that this is something I struggle with. “Get me a mystery scoop, okay?”
She watches me for a moment then nods. “Sure. Why don’t you walk around the block? We’ll meet you in a few.”
Swallowing hard, I nod. “Okay.”
I turn away from the shops, making a right turn as I walk down the sidewalk. I know all the usual things that people say now.
There’s still a chance for you to have your own child.
Have you thought of IVF?
What about adoption?
I think all those are good options. None of them are ruled out in my future.
It’s just… when I was a little girl, I always imagined myself with a loving husband and a few kids. The image was crystal clear. The kids had my fine blonde hair and looked cute as matching buttons.
And then suddenly this endometriosis thing happened… now the future is uncertain. The image that I’ve held in my head for so long is milky and blurred.
Steeling myself and taking a deep breath, I repeat my mantra to myself.
I have everything I want.
I have money. I have a career. I have guys.
That should be enough.
Blowing a breath out, I lift my head and continue on my way around the block.
3
Gabe
Michelle would have done better. If she was here, this whole yacht would be sparklingly clean.
I make a face at that. Michelle chose to not be here. She doesn’t deserve to be in my thoughts.
And yet, she still looms large.
Shading my eyes against the midmorning sun, I back away from the hull of the yacht I’m working on. The marina has no protection from the sun; the planks under my feet are scarred and warped from the coolness of the water below and the scorching heat of the sun.
For some reason I’m unusually brooding today, the name of my would-be fiancée running through my thoughts again and again.
Michelle would have done it better.
But she didn’t stick around to do it herself, did she? And even when she was still here, she was a magnet for trouble.
My fists tighten, nails digging into the flesh of my palms.
That’s enough feeling sorry for myself, I think. That’s enough anger. Just because your ex-fiancée turned out to be a liar and a cheater doesn’t mean that you have to walk around angry all the damn time.
Then again, there is a well deep inside of me that is so full of fury and sadness and angst about what happened… there doesn’t seem to be a saturation point for me. All I can do is think about something else.
Eyeing the mast, I drop the scrub brush into the bucket with a sigh. The mast casts a long shadow, standing proudly against the sun. I’ve been here since it was dark and I’ve scrubbed most of the hull until it shines.
And yet, that’s only the beginning.
There are only eight weeks left until the Harbor Pointe Regatta. Only eight weeks left until I’m under the spotlight, sailing toward the finish line as fast as this boat will carry me. It seems like there are an endless number of repairs to be done on the Ethereal Grace before she’s seaworthy.
I exhale.
I hear Malkia walking across the sun-bleached wood of the dock before I actually see her. For someone that is tall and skinny, her footsteps sound like a bridge troll’s. My sister has a heavy gait, so much so that the crew usually teases her about it. Luckily, she gives that teasing exactly zero thought, handling it as smoothly as she does everything else.
Squinting hard, I look at her as she comes to stand next to me. She holds a tube of sunblock, rubbing the creamy white lotion into her rich ebony skin.
“Gabe. It’s hot out,” she says simply. She has a surprisingly deep voice, her speech tinged with the remnants of her early Tanzanian upbringing. Handing me the sunblock, she pushes her dark sunglasses up her nose.
�
�Thanks.” I accept the sunblock, squeezing a good amount into my hand. I start slathering my suntanned forearms, looking at Malkia.
We couldn’t be more physically different. Her hair is buzzed close to her scalp, a baseball cap covering most of her skull. My dark mop is buzzed on the sides and left to grow up a bit on top, with just a hint of natural curl showing up. Mal wears her usual, loose white cotton pants and a matching long sleeve cotton shirt.
One thing Malkia and I both have are high cheekbones and brooding looks almost built in… Mal smiles a hell of a lot more than I do though, her dazzling grin lighting up a room.
I guess her parents, wherever they are now, had good genetics in that department.
I’m in my trademark tight white t-shirt and low-slung jeans. I own five versions of just this outfit and five dark gray t-shirts too. That’s about the sum of my day-to-day wear when I’m not actively working on the boat.
My gaze wanders behind us.
Another boat my family owns is docked there, though that one is large enough that it can sleep twenty people. The High Hopes is a huge luxury yacht meant for entertaining; the Arctic Light is a racing rig, pure and simple.
“The new rigging fits on the High Hopes, I’m assuming.”
Malkia nods, looking over her shoulder at the mega yacht. Her face is thrown into shadow for a moment. “Yes. We should be ready to sail up to Alaska next week. I am just running over everything again to be safe.”
I turn back to the smaller vessel, a sigh on my lips. “Good. Since we got the High Hopes back from the maintenance crew, I’m worried about her. I want to make sure she’s seaworthy. Our company can’t afford any more cracks in the hull.”
She bobs her head. “I know. I’m triple checking every single thing I can think of, to be safe. Being on the open sea with a full passenger manifest and having to radio for help was not the best thing that could’ve happened. Not the worst, but it definitely put us out of commission for almost two months.”
