Home to the Harbor--A Novel

by Lee Tobin McClain

  Aiden and Avery were visibly impressed, but Syd snorted. “College. I don’t know why anyone would pay for school. I can’t wait to get out of there. When I’m done, I’m done.”

  “Which is good,” Avery said, “because you don’t have the grades to go to college.”

  Not wanting an argument to start, Bisky jumped in. “You don’t have to go to college to make it around here,” she said. “I didn’t. I took over my family business.”

  “Which means you’re still getting up in the middle of the night to work,” Aiden pointed out.

  “Yeah,” Bisky said, “that’s true, but look around you. I’m living in the lap of luxury.”

  That made them all laugh, which was what Bisky had wanted. She wasn’t struggling, and her house was fine, but it was the same one she’d grown up in and the age showed. It was clean and functional, but no one would ever call it fancy.

  They went on eating, and chatting generally, joking around. When she noticed a couple of kids checking the clock, she decided to get down to practical business. She passed out more brownies and cookies to keep the mood upbeat. “Okay, everyone, listen up,” she said. “So far, you have three choices. Work at the museum, work with training dogs or do something with the preschool kids who stay late for extended care. And the dog training isn’t up to speed yet, so basically two choices.”

  “I love kids,” Connor said.

  “I can’t stand them, because I have to take care of my three little brothers all the time.” That was Olivia.

  “We could take maybe one or two to work with dogs, my dog that is,” William said. “Sunny’s going to help, so you’d need to follow her guidance. But I’m bad with dogs, so I need all the help I can get.”

  His vulnerability warmed Bisky’s heart. The kids here, especially the boys, didn’t see enough adults admitting weakness, didn’t know that that in itself was a kind of strength.

  “I think the museum’s cool,” Olivia said. “That’s what I’d like to do. I like history.”

  “Perfect, then,” Bisky said. “It’s history, and it’ll be real to you because it’s the history of what your grandparents did. And it’s not just history. The museum also focuses on the bay and the, you know, nature. The environment, the science of the area.” She hadn’t explained that well, and her own lack of education bothered her for the first time in a long time. She knew why, too: William. While they’d grown up the same way, he’d gone on to better himself and broaden his education. She hadn’t.

  “You should do the museum.” Aiden nudged Avery. “You’re good at science.”

  More of the kids were talking about it, and only a couple looked scornful or bored. This was probably the time to end things, while enthusiasm was relatively high. “Nobody has to decide right now,” Bisky said. “Just think about it, and we’ll meet again Thursday after school. And let’s meet down at the museum so you can get an idea of what it’s like. Sound good?”

  “No pizza?” one of the boys asked.

  Bisky glanced at William, eyebrows raised.

  “We could probably spring for some kind of food,” he said. “Maybe not dinner, but...”

  “Milkshakes!” someone said.

  “Yeah!”

  “Museum, then Goody’s,” Bisky said. “Sounds like a plan.” She looked at William. “And it looks like we’ll have to talk to Mary about a food budget for this crowd.”

  “They’re ravenous,” William agreed, snagging another large piece of pizza from the box, causing the kids to snort.

  After the kids were all gone, Bisky beckoned William back out onto the sunporch and threw herself down into a chair. “How’d you think that went?”

  “You were great.” William sat down in the chair next to hers. “I think they’re going to like it, most of them, but it’ll take effort to keep them positive and on track.”

  “We have our work cut out for us,” she agreed.

  “Let’s reassess after Thursday,” he said.

  An idea sprang into Bisky’s head. “Why don’t you come over for dinner on Friday,” she said. “Family dinner with me and Sunny. We can talk over next steps, and get Sunny’s ideas as a teenager.”

  The moment she’d said it, she held her breath. Why had she put herself out on a limb like that? He wasn’t going to want to spend his Friday night with her.

  He tilted his head to one side, studying her, and his eyes darkened. She could see him struggle.

  “Don’t feel obligated,” she said quickly. “It’s fine, we can just talk about it over the phone or whatever.”

  He put a hand over hers. Just lightly, but it burned like fire. “Bisky,” he said. “Shhh. I’d like to come.”

  Their eyes met, held, in the moonlight. Outside, crickets and a late-night waterbird made the only sounds.

  He’d like to come. He’d like to come. The singsong joy of it echoed in her heart for hours after he’d left, which was not a good thing. Not good at all.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SUNNY KNELT IN the corner of the kitchen Friday afternoon with a handful of dog treats while her mother stirred something good-smelling on the stove.

  “So,” Mom said, “William’s coming to dinner.”

  Something about Mom’s elaborately casual tone made Sunny’s eyebrows shoot up. “I wondered why you were cooking something fancy.”

  “It’s not fancy,” her mother protested. “It’s oyster stew.”

  “Smells great. Is he bringing his dog?” If he did, then Sunny wouldn’t mind him coming over. The more chance she had to work with both dogs, the better.

  “I don’t know. Text him and tell him to, if you want.”

  “Can I use your phone?” Sunny kind of wanted to scroll through their messages and find out if the vibe she sensed between them was real.

  “Sure,” Mom said, and nodded toward it.

  Which meant there was nothing even PG rated in their messages. She punched in her mother’s password, found William G in her contacts. William, it’s Sunny. Bring your dog so we can prove Ms. B**** wrong. She hit Send and grinned. It was up to William how he would fill in the blanks, since the woman’s last name started with a B. She scrolled through the few messages between William and her mother. Aside from the occasional smiley emoji, it looked like strictly business. No hearts or lovey-dovey words. She put the phone back onto the table.

  She made Muffin sit, and then moved the treat backward over her head to get her to sit up on her haunches, something that she hadn’t been able to make happen yet. Muffin lunged toward the treat, and Sunny pulled it away.

  “Don’t frustrate her,” Mom scolded from the stove.

  “I know what I’m doing, Mom.”

  Two more tries, and she proved herself right as Muffin raised up onto her haunches, propping her paws on Sunny’s arm for support.

  “Look, Mom,” she said, low, and Mom did and clapped.

  A few minutes later her own phone buzzed in her pocket, and she checked it. Going boy hunting tonight, want to come?

  “Ugh, my friends drive me crazy,” she complained. “All they want to do, think about or talk about is boys. Listen to this, from Kait.” She read her mother the text.

  Mom laughed. “I’m sure Ria would be appalled to know her daughter claims to be boy hunting,” she said as she stirred the soup. Then she turned and leaned back against the counter, taking a long swig of iced tea. “But, honey, boys can be great. I know what you mean about the boy-crazy stuff and centering your life around men, that’s ridiculous and too many women do it. But they have their place, men do.” She smiled a little. “I maybe didn’t communicate that to you clearly enough.”

  “Men like William?”

  “No!” Mom blushed. “He’s a friend and that’s all.”

  “Uh-huh.” Sunny stood, grabbed a spoon, and tasted the oyster stew. “Delicious.” Mom wa
sn’t a gourmet cook, but she did a good job with all the local specialties. Sunny didn’t do much cooking, so far, but she knew how to make oyster stew. Mom had insisted on that.

  “Yoo-hoo.” William rapped on the open front door, and Muffin let out a loud, baying bark and rushed to the door, jumping at it.

  Sunny went and pulled Muffin back. “Come on in,” she said. “Oh, good, you brought Xena.”

  William opened the door and came in, but Xena held back.

  “Come on, girl, you remember Muffin. She’s your good buddy.” Sunny led Muffin back into the kitchen and grabbed some treats. William half enticed, half lifted Xena through the doorway.

  Sunny scattered treats on the floor for Xena, and then another bunch in another area for Muffin. “I was reading that sometimes being with a more confident dog is good,” she said. “I guess Muffin is confident compared to Xena.”

  Mom smiled at William, then went back to her cooking.

  William held up a bag. “I brought ice cream from Goody’s,” he said. “For tonight, or you two can share it later.”

  Sunny took the ice cream, checked the flavor—chocolate—and stuck it in the freezer.

  “I also worked out a group discount for anytime we want to bring the teenagers in,” he said. “Yesterday almost broke the bank.”

  Sunny read another text from Kait and rolled her eyes. More boy-crazy stuff. I’m training dogs, she texted back, hoping that would be boring enough to end the conversation.

  She watched Mom and William as she focused on her phone and the dogs. They didn’t seem like they were dating, but still, Sunny got a funny feeling that they liked each other. Not just as friends, either. It was something about the way Mom laughed, something about the way William touched her back as he reached into the top shelf of a cupboard to get something down, which Mom absolutely did not need him to do; she was plenty tall enough to reach everything in their kitchen herself.

  It started to annoy her. “Come out here and work with your dog for a few,” she ordered William. He smiled and came outside readily, and then she wondered whether she’d imagined his connection with her mom.

  No matter. He’d been working with Xena to sit, and once Sunny and Muffin were far enough away not to be a distraction, Xena followed William’s command and sat. She refused to lie down, but William said she’d done it occasionally for him at home.

  “Even so,” he said, “I can’t see her becoming a therapy dog, to be honest. She’s so scared of everyone and everything. She’s starting not to be scared of me, but that’s all.”

  “She’s made progress, right? And you’ve only had her for a week.” Sunny frowned, thinking. “Maybe we should have her around people at a distance, and let her see they’re not going to hurt her. Like, at the edge of the park, or something.”

  “Makes sense.” He handed Xena a treat.

  “She’s food motivated, so every time she’s around another person, give her lots of treats. Like you’re doing now. She’ll start to associate treats with people.”

  “Do you really think she’ll get there?”

  “I don’t know,” Sunny admitted. “But I want to try. Do you?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Truth is, I’m getting over some fears myself. Not a dog person, like I told you all before.”

  “Dinner’s on the table,” Mom called, and they both went in, said grace, and dug in. Mom had made biscuits to go with the oyster stew, and a salad, and it was all good.

  “My daughter loved biscuits,” William said. “It was her favorite breakfast.”

  “What exactly happened to her?” Sunny asked. Mom looked at her sharply and she felt bad. “That was rude of me. You don’t have to answer. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” William said, his voice quiet, but steady. He drew in a breath and let it out, then went on. “She was shot by a guy who broke into our house,” he said. “I’d left her home alone, which I’ll regret to my dying day, and she was taking a nap. She came out while he was hauling off our TV, as near as anyone can tell, and he shot her down.”

  Mom put a hand over his, briefly. “It’s a parent’s worst nightmare,” she said, “but you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

  He shrugged. “I was the one who left her alone.”

  There was an awkward silence then. Both Mom and William were quiet, and they’d both stopped eating.

  “Tell him he’s wrong,” Sunny finally said to Mom.

  “I have.”

  William shrugged and looked away.

  Xena crept over to his side and lay there.

  “Look,” Sunny said, amazed the two of them couldn’t see it. “Kids are left alone all the time. She was, what, fifteen?”

  He nodded.

  “Mom was leaving me alone when I was eleven or twelve, isn’t that right?”

  “That’s right,” Bisky said. “Mostly in the daytime, but sometimes in the evening. Every morning, during oyster or crab season.”

  “So it could just as easily have happened to me,” Sunny said, and then swallowed, because that gave her a strange feeling. Especially when she looked at her mother’s stricken face.

  Neither adult answered, so Sunny jumped up and started clearing dishes, and she was relieved when they started talking about the teen program they were both working on and what activities would work best. She felt bad for William, of course, but she also felt an urge to get away. She checked her phone, which she wasn’t allowed to do at the table, and found three messages, two from Kait and one from Venus. “Come over,” was the upshot.

  Sunny got the dishes into the dishwasher while Mom and William talked in low voices. “I’m going over to Kait’s for a while, okay?” she said as soon as she was done.

  “Walking over?” Mom frowned out the window at the twilight.

  “I’ll leave now, and they’ll meet me.” It was their usual arrangement, visiting each other’s houses during the dark season.

  “Call when you want a ride home,” Mom said. “Before ten thirty, okay?”

  “Eleven?” she asked. “Or I could take the car myself.”

  “I’ll come get you.” Mom was old-fashioned that way and liked to be involved in Sunny’s life, preferring to drive her around rather than send her off in their one car.

  Her phone buzzed again and she checked it.

  Hurry up. We’re trying to figure out who’s abusing dogs.

  Galvanized, Sunny rushed to grab a coat. “Later,” she called, and headed out the door. She’d give anything to figure out who’d hurt Muffin and Xena, and to make sure it didn’t happen to any other dogs.

  * * *

  WILLIAM WATCHED SUNNY hurry out the door and then smiled at Bisky. “They don’t slow down and ponder things like adults, do they? Jenna used to rush off the minute a friend called or texted.”

  “They have their priorities.” She touched his hand. “I’m sorry Sunny reminds you so much of Jenna. That must be hard to deal with.”

  Her hand on his was warm, and so were her eyes. He turned his hand over and squeezed her smaller one. “It’s not a bad thing. I have a lot of good memories I’d nearly forgotten. Sunny brings those out.”

  “I’m glad.” Bisky’s eyes were thoughtful as she looked from his face to their clasped hands and back again.

  He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again, because he didn’t really know what to say. He felt close with her after sharing a family meal, but what was the good of telling her that when there was nowhere it could go?

  She pulled her hand away, rose, and looked into the kitchen. “She cleaned everything up, or most everything.”

  He rose and stood behind her, looking at the neat kitchen. “Good kid. And that doesn’t bring up a memory of Jenna. She hated housework, just like her mother did.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “Has to be done,” she said. “Ho
w’d you manage if neither of them liked it?”

  Well, he and Ellie had fought a lot at the beginning. “Eventually, I started doing most of it myself. It was a good break from my desk job.”

  She met his eyes, and it was as if she knew there was a story there, but she didn’t want to ask him about it. She stepped away almost like she was nervous and walked across the kitchen. She rearranged a few things on the counter. “Do you think we have the next steps figured out okay?”

  He nodded. “What we talked about at dinner should work.”

  Muffin ambled around the kitchen, sniffing. Xena came in and stood for a moment by William’s side, and then tentatively took a few steps to snag a crumb of bread.

  Bisky knelt down to feed Muffin a treat. Then she tossed one to Xena, too. She stayed down on the floor, rubbing Muffin’s back. “I guess you’re mine, huh, girl? Sunny’s the one who wanted you, but is she here for your evening walk? No, she’s not.”

  The singsong voice Bisky was using made Muffin’s tail start to wag.

  “I swear she knows the word walk already,” Bisky said. “You’re a smart girl, aren’t you? Yes, you are.”

  Following her lead, William knelt down and hesitantly stroked his dog in the same way Bisky was stroking hers. He couldn’t quite bring himself to talk the singsong baby talk, not with a witness, anyway. But Xena nonetheless rolled onto her back to give him access to her belly, which felt like a win.

  He looked up to find Bisky watching him. “I like it better than I thought,” he said, “having her.”

  “They grow on you.”

  And then there was an awkward but somehow wonderful silence where they were smiling at each other.

  Finally, he broke it. “I should go, but...would you want to walk them first?”

  “Sure,” she said easily, without hesitation.

  Moments later they were walking down the shore as the sun set, heading deeper into the dock area rather than back toward town. It was cool out, and they were both wearing jackets and hats.

  William felt way too strong of an urge to pull Bisky close. To quell it, he turned down the inland dirt road.