I looked at Connor and then back at Jason, noting even through my panic that he did look good at the wheel. For a midwestern boy.
“Please sit, Connor,” I said with a jerky smile. “Please.” He looked disgusted but complied.
I gave the old lady a pointed look that I hoped asked her in great detail why she chose that particular day and time for a boat ride. Now that would have been a good trick to give me while weird gifts were being doled out. Telepathy.
But she wasn’t paying attention to me. She was too busy laughing at the way her feet bounced against the bench seat when we ran across the wake left by another boat.
“Sweet Jesus,” I muttered.
“Whoo-hoo!” Connor said, holding his arms up as Jason sped up.
“I’m with him,” the old lady said, doing the same. “Whoo-hoo! It’s like being on a carnival ride. Except I never rode one.”
I felt hot, despite the air rushing past me, and my stomach churned. Why? I mouthed at her, cutting my eyes to each side.
“Why not?” she said, laughing and subsequently coughing. “I missed my ride last time.” She looked back at Jason, giving him a once-over. “This one has more potential.”
“Hey, aren’t we fishing in there?” Connor asked, pointing at a cut in the trees off to the right.
“Thought we’d ride around awhile first, maybe find another spot,” Jason answered.
Great. My friend’s short gray curls spun wildly, kind of like my head.
“So talk, girl, don’t mind me,” she said.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, making a wish. I opened one—nope, still there. Still grinning like a kid.
“Dani? You okay?”
I started at Jason’s voice, pasting on a smile. “Great. Something in my eye.”
She laughed. “He’s cute.” Then she winked at me. “The boy, I mean. But his dad is, too.” Her expression went drifty as she gazed out over the water. “Need to get my grandkids back out here.”
I rubbed my face, wishing she’d quit rambling. It was hard to ignore, even for someone like me.
“Didn’t see any alligators yesterday,” Connor yelled over the noise as he turned around. “Aren’t there supposed to be alligators here?”
“They’re around,” I called back. “You have to look close on the edges, they sleep in the tall grass and just under the surface.” I held a hand toward Jason as I kept a death grip on the side of the boat. “Can you slow down a little, please?”
He looked concerned. “You okay?”
“Mmm.” I smiled and hoped I wasn’t green.
“Man, I wanna see one.” He swung his head from side to side.
“Used to be a big one that lived right over there.” I pointed to a cove. “I named him Herman Munster when I was little.”
Jason slowed down and headed that way, I presumed to fish. I took some easier breaths once the nose was down and concentrated on talking to the right people.
“Herman who?” he asked.
“Munster. Like the TV show?”
Blank look. “I’ll ask my Grandma Helen about it,” Connor said, reaching for the bucket with the anchor.
“Helen?” The lady said. She grinned and then snorted. “That’s my name. Well, sorta.”
“Sorta?” I asked, then wanted to swallow my tongue as I felt the heat rise. I was slipping. That was a rookie mistake. I blamed the boat.
“Huh?” Connor asked.
I watched both of them as she babbled on. “—hated that name.”
I coughed and pretended to swallow a bug or something.
“You okay?” Jason asked again.
I held up a hand. “I’m good.”
“I swear, my kids had a good laugh putting that on my gravestone. They knew. Hell, I wrote it down. I said I’d gone by June all my life and to put it in the paper and everything as June, and I’ll be damned if they didn’t put Helen June.”
I leaned on my knees and massaged my temples. Not for long, though. Connor already had the anchor out ready to throw like a pro. Jason cut the motor and glided into the spot he wanted.
“Hang on, Connor,” he said. “Dani, come steer a second.”
My head shot up. “What?”
He sighed. Loudly. “There’s no motor. Just keep us to the left of that tree.”
I jumped up and traded places, just as Connor moved backward and Jason had to step to the right. Into Don’t-Call-Me-Helen.
She gasped, cleared her throat, and disappeared. Jason went woozy on his feet for a minute and grabbed the console behind him.
“Jason?”
He shook his head. “Just got up too fast, I guess.” He sniffed. “You smell cigarettes?”
Chapter 15
“WHO was the top dog?” Bob asked as we shuffled into the back door of the bait room.
I held all the gear and Jason and Connor carried a large cooler between them. Connor cut his eyes toward me as they set down the chest and I opened it and pulled out a thirty-one-inch speckled trout.
“That would be me,” I said with a smile.
Bob nodded approvingly. “Nice.”
“That’s a girl’s luck,” Connor said. “We caught all the rest, she catches one and it’s the biggest.”
I laughed and pretended to toss it to him so he’d flinch. He smirked and backed up a little. I could tell he didn’t quite know what to make of me. And I knew Jason had no idea how to help with that.
“Connor did catch the most,” I said, smiling at him. “He is the croaker expert.”
“Nine of ’em,” he said, standing a little straighter. His hair poked up on top where he’d taken his cap off.
“Croaker—that’s good eating,” Bob said, looking in the cooler. “You got yourself a good haul, there.”
Connor beamed.
“Well, let’s get this haul cleaned so we can eat sometime tonight,” Jason said, heading to the big sink.
Connor grabbed the filet knife like he’d been doing it for years instead of two days. It was good, him being there. Good for him and good for Jason. The next day would not be good. I had the feeling moody Jason would be back in residence.
I stood awkwardly to the side. “Y’all need my help?”
Jason turned with a skeptical smirk. “Seriously?”
“No.”
He laughed. “Want your fish? We can do it first.”
I waved a hand. “Nah, just add it to your pile. Y’all enjoy.”
I turned to head down the hall to the storefront, but I heard a whisper. “Go ask her.”
It was Connor, and it made me look back. Jason was looking at him funny and then he cut his eyes toward me. I suddenly felt awkward again, and Jason looked stuck.
“You could come eat if you want,” Connor said, looking at me quickly, then back at the fish. “I mean, you did catch the biggest one and all. Kinda sucks to just go home now.”
“Connor,” Jason admonished.
“What?” he said, looking up at him. “Suck isn’t a bad word.”
I laughed to myself and walked back, taking a chance and giving Connor a sideways hug. He didn’t pull away but he didn’t look at me, either.
“Thank you, Connor, I appreciate that. But I have to go see what my family is up to tonight.”
He nodded. “Oh yeah. The girl with the boy name.”
I laughed. “Yeah, her.”
When I looked up to catch Jason’s eye, my laugh caught in my throat and made my skin tingle. The expression in his eyes was almost physical in its power. His son had invited me over. Relief, joy, happy. That’s what it was. His happy was showing. I licked my lips nervously and then got sidetracked again when his eyes dropped to watch that. Had to blink that away, and I gave Connor’s shoulders another squeeze.
“See you in the morning.”
“See ya.” His face went blank.
He was like Jason that way. Show a feeling. Take it away. Act like nothing matters.
THE next morning felt like coming home from
a vacation. Depressing. Connor was moping and grumpy. Jason grunted one-word answers and his face was dark. I made my coffee and tried to make small talk.
“Well, how was my fish last night?”
“Awesome,” Connor said, flopping onto a stool. “Dad saved you some.”
“Oh cool.”
He fiddled with a zipper on his backpack. “I wish we could go fishing every day.”
I chuckled. “Nobody can do that, babe. That’s not reality. But you can probably go each time you come here. I’m sure your dad can swing that.” I hoped so, or I just sold him out.
He nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”
“I enjoyed it though,” I said. “Haven’t gotten to do that in years.”
“Really?” His face scrunched up in surprise. “Why not?”
I shrugged. “Just got busy, I guess. I should do better about that.”
“Wish I could stay for the festival,” he said, his eyes clouding again. “My mom is such—”
“Don’t finish that sentence, Connor.”
We both turned our heads as Jason entered the room.
“Sorry,” Connor whispered.
“Let’s just take this one visit at a time, okay?” Jason said, his expression softening. He put a hand in Connor’s hair. “Maybe she’ll let you come for longer next time. Before school starts.”
“Yeah.”
A car pulled up out front, and I knew by Jason’s face who it was. I took my coffee and went to the back to avoid the awkwardness. The minnows needed to be checked. I could do that. But shortly after the jingle, I heard steps behind me. I turned to see Connor stop a few feet from me.
“Hey—just wanted to say bye.”
I took a step forward and held out my right fist. His face relaxed and broadened into the smile that so resembled his dad’s, and he knocked his own fist against mine.
“See ya next time, Connor.”
“See ya.”
He ambled out, leaving me blinking and trying not to let that go to my heart. But when the bell jingled again, it did. For Jason. I walked slowly down that hall, not wanting to get there, slower with each step. Jason leaned against the counter, staring at the door.
I stayed back, suddenly unsure of my footing, not wanting to intrude. He heard me and swiped at his eyes as he turned away. I saw it morph in front of me—the moody withdrawn Jason I’d first met, with the tight jaw and angry eyes.
He busied himself with some papers, and I went to the computer to pull the tide report. Two clicks in, stupid hit me in the head. What was I doing? Exactly what I’d always done. Taken my cue from other people’s moods and wimped out. His back was to me when I turned around, so I watched him. Watched him operate on robot mode, shutting down all the parts of him that made my heart race.
“Hey.”
“Hmm,” he responded, not turning.
“Hey,” I repeated.
“What?”
I paused, but still he kept flipping through papers.
“Please look at me.”
He set down the papers with barely disguised irritation. I saw the man on the houseboat that told me to leave. Same guy. More clothing.
“Dani, it’s not a good time.”
“Yeah, I get that.” I walked the distance between us and put a hand on his arm. Feeling the tightness of him, like a spring bolt. His eyes flickered at my touch.
“I know you’re sad, Jason. It’s okay to be. Talk to me.”
He closed his eyes. “I don’t want to.”
I don’t know where the boldness came from, but I moved his arm so that I had access and wrapped my arms around him, holding tight. He didn’t move, didn’t respond, didn’t say a word, and I just shut my eyes tight and hoped like hell it wouldn’t backfire on me.
The doubt hit me like bullets. Was I being presumptuous? Did I cross a line? Did I feel more than he did? What did I know about losing a child? My head started to spin and I started to pull away—when his hands came up my back.
I held my breath as one slowly moved upward into my hair, as the other one pulled me tighter against him, so tight it was hard to breathe. But I didn’t care. I hugged him back, wanting to take the hurt. I felt his breathing quicken, as if maybe he was working not to cry, but I didn’t look up in case he was. I just let him take what he needed.
Several moments later, he moved his hands up to my face and lifted it to his. I caught a glimpse of reddened eyes before he kissed me soft and slow, long and deep, melting my insides and sending heat to important places. That kiss went on for days, it felt like. Till we heard a truck door creak shut outside and we pulled away, both of us in a hazy fog.
Jason backed away and disappeared down the hall as the bell jingled.
“I want some boudain balls. And shrimp on a stick. And cheesecake on a stick.”
Riley’s head was on a swivel, taking in all the food kiosks at the festival.
“Your mother was always about the cotton candy,” Dad said, pointing at a small girl smeared in sticky blue. “I always wished they’d make a white one. She’d always end up blue or pink.”
I handed her a twenty. “Take it one at a time, boog,” I said, glancing around. We’d been there for fifteen minutes and there was no sign of Jason. Not that I was really looking. Or worried about it.
“Ooh, funnel cake,” Riley said, sounding six instead of sixteen. Then she caught sight of Grady and Miss Olivia and waved.
Oh sure. She saw her man.
“Hey, Dani girl,” Miss Olivia said as she ambled closer. “Nathaniel, you look better every day.”
“Are you flirting with me?” he asked.
“Am I?” Miss Olivia chuckled. “It’s been so long, I have no idea.”
My dad laughed—a deep warm sound that instantly made me relax. Grady looped an arm around Riley and pulled her in for a hug. She hugged him back and then pulled back to stand next to him as her blue eyes scanned the crowd. No floor shows today.
Bob slow-rolled by in his golf cart, his head swinging from side to side, taking it all in. It was the first time I’d ever seen him with a shirt on, and he almost pulled off normal till he swung his metal leg out the side as a wave to me.
“Every year, it’s hot enough to fry eggs on the street, you hear me?” Miss Olivia said, fanning out her yellow-and-white muumuu.
I nodded and checked out the sky, the familiar thickness tickling my skin. A storm was brewing. The quickening of my pulse told me that. “It’s muggy, though. Air’s heavy.”
“Choke you if you breathe too deep.” Miss Olivia adjusted her straw hat. “Rain’s on the way, the weatherman said. Was supposed to be here early this morning, but it’s waiting, I guess,” she said, laughing. “Could blow this whole little party off the street. Y’all get something to eat yet?”
Yeah, it’s waiting. I closed my eyes for a second and breathed in the wet air. It was for me, somehow. I felt the energy of it on my skin.
“Not yet, but I’m working on it,” Riley said.
“Well, I’m going to see what’s happening on the fishing board,” Dad said, already heading toward the giant stat board used to track the tournament. And Jiminy, who nodded at him and said something they both chuckled at. The two of them slapped each other on the shoulders and ambled off together. My heart warmed instantly at the thought that maybe—just maybe—they were finding that place again.
“Bye, Pop!” Riley called out, and he raised his right hand in a wave, not looking back.
“We’re going for a stroll,” Grady said as he took Riley’s hand. She looked up at him with a smirk.
“A stroll? Really?”
“Thought it sounded nice,” he said, defending himself. “Old-fashioned.”
I patted his shoulder and leaned in closer. “Just keep your clothes on, that’s as old-fashioned as I need.”
Miss Olivia snorted, Riley clapped a hand to her eyes, and Grady turned five shades of red.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Mom.”
I fixed he
r with a smile. “That’s me.”
“Let’s go,” she said, tugging on his hand.
“Riley,” I said, stopping her.
She turned around, exasperated. “What?”
I paused a second, staring hard into her eyes. “Don’t talk to strangers.”
Grady chuckled but Riley’s annoyance faltered, and she just nodded. I watched them walk away. She’s gonna be okay. She’s gonna be okay.
“She’s just walking around a festival, not Europe,” Miss Olivia said, leaning into my line of vision.
A laugh escaped my throat, but I didn’t really feel it. “Europe might be safer than Bethany.”
She squeezed my hand. “Take a breath, girl. Let’s go look at that jewelry over there.”
I followed her gaze to a kiosk filled with silver everything, appropriately bannered SILVER EVERYTHING, then back to the retreating figures getting swallowed by the crowd. I had the weirdest urge to run after her. Instead, I followed Miss Olivia as she made her way over to the bling.
There was an index card marked up in red Sharpie, ALL STERLING SLIVER 50% OFF! A sweating bald man with a goatee readied himself for a “sliver” sale as Miss Olivia perused the selection. As ringed and braceleted and adorned as she was, he probably figured an easy sale.
Not to be the case. Fifteen minutes later, Miss Olivia had him down to around 90 percent off a whole bucketload of jewelry. I tried on a few rings, a few bracelets, but put them all back. Riley had all the cash I could afford to blow, and I was saving my last five dollars for an Italian sausage po’boy sandwich I’d passed.
There was a pair of brushed silver fleur-de-lis hook earrings that kept drawing my eye, though. I picked them up and glanced at the tag. Twenty bucks. I grimaced. Even at half off, and giving up my sandwich, I didn’t have enough. And I wasn’t going to use Miss Olivia to get it cheaper. The poor guy was frustrated already. Still, I had to hold them up to my ears and check it out in the smudged mirror he had there.
“Those are nice,” said a familiar voice behind me.
I turned to see Jason half grinning down at me, and I chuckled as I put the earrings back, marveling at the heat to my face that had nothing to do with the temperature.
“Hey there.”
Reason Is You (9781101576151) Page 21
