by J. L. Berg
“Dude, you look like shit little brother,” Dean said, the moment I stepped into the office.
“Thanks,” I replied. “That’s real kind of you. I’d say the same, but, well, you always look like shit.”
He chuckled, shaking his head as I took a seat at my desk as I looked out over the marina. The water scattered rays of sunlight onto the dozens of boats docked around us.
It was early.
Too damn early.
“Did you make coffee?” I asked, stretching my back against the old leather chair. I’d managed to pull this business out of the brink of bankruptcy when my brother’s medical bills nearly crippled us, and yet, somehow, we still had these pieces of shit office chairs that probably pre-dated both of us.
I guess you couldn’t say the Sutherlands were excessive with money, that’s for sure.
“Of course!” he said. “I have a child who refuses to sleep at night because it’s precious hours she could be learning. How do you think I survive? I’m already two cups in.”
I chuckled, loving that my brother already laid claim on his soon to be step-daughter. Honestly, I’d laid claim too, calling her my niece for some time now.
“Good,” I said, wasting no time, as I made a beeline towards the counter in the back we had set up for break times. There was a mini fridge and one of those fancy new coffee pots with the individual pods for customers during the slow, winter months when they waited indoors for scenic tours. But for the two of us, we still relied on the regular drip machine.
“Is there a particular reason you look like shit today, or is it a new look you’re going for?”
Only my big brother could hassle me like this without getting a beat down.
I let out a sigh, pouring my coffee as he waited for an answer.
“Carly,” I finally said.
“Jimmy’s granddaughter? That Carly?”
I nodded, having just added an ample amount of flavored creamer to my giant cup of coffee.
“Man, I thought you were done with that.”
I merely shrugged.
“You know he’ll kill you if he finds out. Like load you into that puddle jumper of a plane of his and drop you in the middle of the ocean kill you.”
I took a long sip of coffee. It was like a liquid fuel to my brain cells and I instantly felt better.
God, I loved coffee.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Really?” He said, his brow rising in disbelief as both arms folded in front of him. I had to force myself not to glance in the direction of his prosthetic arm.
Even to this day, I couldn’t help but look.
Up until the night Dean had lost his arm in that ferry accident, I’d always told myself staying here in Ocracoke was temporary…that one day, I’d finally get out of here and fulfill all those dreams I had in high school. But the moment I saw him in that hospital bed, so lost and helpless—my big, super hero of a brother, I knew.
I wasn’t going anywhere.
Ever.
“If it’s no big deal, then why are you chugging down caffeine like its whiskey?”
I looked down at my mostly empty coffee cup, realizing he was right. I was already in need of a refill.
“She wanted breakfast this morning.”
A smug smirk tugged at the corner of my brother’s stupid face before it quickly disappeared. He knew breakfast was the kiss of death in my book.
“Have you ever thought about maybe, one of these times, saying yes to breakfast? Obviously not with Carly, because of the whole her-pops-will-kill-you-thing but maybe someone else?”
“No,” I answered immediately, finishing off my coffee.
“Jesus, Taylor. At least think it through.”
I shrugged, headed back to the coffee pot for a refill. “I don’t need to think it over. I’m perfectly happy with my current arrangement.”
He waited as I did my usual routine of adding copious amounts of creamer to my coffee before speaking again.
“You mean you’re perfectly happy banging every single tourist you meet and the occasional grandchild of a family friend, even if it means possible dismemberment on your part.”
“Jimmy won’t hurt me,” I scoffed. “He’s the most lovable—”
“That guy was a fighter pilot in Vietnam. I’m pretty sure he got a medal for how many enemy planes he shot down. He’s a beast.”
“Really? Well, that’s…unsettling.”
“So stop fucking his granddaughter then!”
“I am! I did, I mean. Remember, breakfast?”
He let out a huff. “Don’t you want to have something real with someone?”
“Like you and Cora?”
His smile softened at the mere mention of his fiancé. “Yeah.”
Running my hands through my light brown hair, I let his question sink in, giving it a few seconds of my time—he was my big brother after all.
“Not really,” I finally answered. “Honestly, I’m good Dean. Stop trying to save me. I know you feel it’s your mission, now that you’re all in love or whatever, to make sure everyone else around you is just as happy as you are, but I’m really good. Promise.”
He eyed me warily.
“Besides, I seem to remember not too long ago, the name on every young tourists lips was a different Sutherland brother entirely.”
“That was a long time ago,” he argued. “And let me tell you something, it got tiresome. The chase, the same boring conversation…the awkward morning after.”
“So you thought it’d be a better idea to marry your best friend?”
His eyes narrowed as I virtually high fived myself for that jab.
“It wasn’t my best decision, but thankfully Molly and I came to our senses.”
Oh no, I wasn’t letting him off that easy,
“You mean, Jake came back and took what was rightfully his? Man, have you ever noticed how much drama this little town has going on? It’s like there’s a mini soap opera going on every time I turn around.”
“Yeah, weird,” he answered, clearly annoyed. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is—”
“What you’re trying to say is that your way—love and commitment and all that, is the best and obviously the only way. But here’s the thing, big brother. I’ve been handling things on my own for a while now. While you were recovering from your accident, I was busting my ass off, rebuilding this company like I did time and time before that. So don’t come in here and act all big brother on me now. I love you, I do. But we’re past the age for love advice, okay?”
He looked a bit taken aback, and I felt bad for the harshness of my tone, but I wouldn’t apologize for my lifestyle.
Not when he’d travelled the same path only years earlier.
“Okay,” he finally agreed.
“Good, now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to prep for an early morning tour—
I was cut off by the bell on the office door.
Turning around, I saw our mother flying through it, her eyes wild like she was being chased by a wild animal.
It wasn’t an impossibility, I guess, giving the town we lived in.
“You’ll never guess what I just heard!”
Oh great, town gossip.
Just what I need to hear at the ass crack of dawn on a Thursday morning.
“I better put on another pot of coffee,” Dean groaned.
“Make it a strong one.”
***
As a rule, news of any kind spread like wild fire in our small town.
You could get in an argument with your spouse in the morning on one side of the island, and by noon it was old news, having reaching the other side and back again by the time everyone finished their second cup of coffee.
So it was no surprise that news as big as this had caused a flurry of activity. So much so, that an emergency meeting had been called that very night to try and help calm everyone’s nerves.
Mine included.
Being low season, we met at By the Ba
y, a popular inn owned by none other than Molly McIntyre, one of Dean’s best friends and ex-fiancé. They were both in happy, committed relationships—Molly already married to her high school sweetheart with a newborn baby girl, and Dean engaged to the town nurse, set to finally marry this December—after several delays, so there was no ill feelings between any of them.
Honestly, it kind of made me ill how well adjusted and happy they all were. I watched as they all took seats next to each other, the girls complimenting each other on outfit choices while crooning over baby Ruby, and the guys joked around.
Not a single bit of animosity.
“Hey.” I looked up to see Millie McIntyre, Molly’s younger sister and my former classmate from high school, although now she was Millie Fisher, since she’d recently been married herself.
“Hey yourself,” I said, as she helped guide her husband Aiden to a seat beside her. Although I didn’t know the British artist well, I did know Millie, having gotten the chance to reacquaint myself with my good friend since her move back home just over a year ago.
“Do you know what’s going on?” she asked. “All I know is something was sold. And it’s a big freaking deal because my mom said, ‘get your ass to that meeting Millie. All the other business owners will be there and you’ll look stupid if you’re not.’ So here I am.”
I laughed. “There’s no way your mom said the word ‘ass’.”
She shrugged as Aiden chuckled, the dark glasses he wore to help enhance what little sight he had left, making it hard to see his full expression. “Okay, so I might be paraphrasing, but she did say it was important.”
“You know that dive of a motel along the marina?”
“Of course. Is that what sold? I told my sister to buy it month ago.”
I let out a sigh. “Well, it’s too bad she didn’t. Maybe then we wouldn’t be in this shit hole of a mess.”
“Why? Who did buy it?”
“Hart International.”
“Oh fuck,” Aiden said under his breath causing his wife to turn abruptly towards him and then back to me, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Okay! Hello!” My mother said loudly at the front of the room. “We’re going to get started. I’ve been asked to lead this meeting as the seller of the hotel in question, The Cozy Motel, prefers to not participate.”
I bet she doesn’t, I thought to myself. Selfish bitch. I bet the old hag took all that money they gave her and hopped the first ferry out of here.
“Hart international? Like the resorts?” Millie whispered into my ear. “What do they want with us?
I let out a sigh as my mother began.
“We’re just going to do this casual style so does anyone have any questions?”
A million hands shot up in the air.
“Nothing good,” I answered back. “Nothing good at all.”
