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The Unimaginable

Page 5

by Dina Silver


  “I see.”

  “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” I gestured to his cigar.

  “You didn’t.”

  My mouth was dry, so I took a sip from my water bottle. “Did Quinn mention that he invited Sophie and me to go to Bangkok with you?”

  He nodded.

  “It sounds like it would be a lot of fun, and if I can get the time off, I would love to join you. Believe it or not, I’ve never been there.”

  He took a puff of his cigar and placed his other hand in his front pocket. “Let us know if you can make it work.” His voice vibrated through me. “Quinn tells me you’re from Indiana.”

  “I am.”

  “So what brought you all the way out here?”

  I looked away for a second and pondered his question. “A lot of things . . . and nothing in particular, to be honest. I grew up in a very small farm community and always wanted a reason to leave.” I paused. “It sounds selfish when I say it out loud.”

  “It sounds brave to me.”

  I lifted my eyes to his and smiled. “Thank you.”

  He opened his mouth as if to speak but nodded instead.

  “I’m glad I ran into you.”

  “Was that your intention?” he challenged me.

  I looked closely at his expression. “Maybe it was.” I shrugged and matched his devilish grin with my own. “I guess I should be heading back,” I said.

  “Good to see you, Jessica. Have a nice evening.”

  “You too,” I said, then turned and walked away and could feel his eyes on my back.

  Maybe I hadn’t come there to find Grant, but I was glad that I did. I’d wanted to be close to the boats and to the water and to see if my urge to travel with Grant and Quinn was a blip of insanity or a legitimate desire. After being there I had my answer.

  Chapter 10

  As soon as I arrived at work the next day, I asked Niran for some time off to go to Bangkok.

  “If you cover your shifts, you can go.”

  “Sophie said she’d cover for me, because her cousin is flying in to stay with her, and she wouldn’t be able to make the trip anyway.”

  “You don’t have sex with him.”

  I snorted out a laugh and stared at him. “Is that a question or a prediction?”

  He shrugged and batted his eyes, then placed his hands on my shoulders. “You are my good girl.”

  “I am?”

  He nodded emphatically and placed his hand on his chest. “You have good heart, and I see that the first time we meet. Niran knows.”

  I leaned forward and squeezed him. “It takes one good heart to spot another.”

  He patted me on the head. “Maybe you can have sex,” he said, and walked away. But not before grabbing a deck of cards.

  When I saw the guys come in for dinner that night, I couldn’t wait to tell them I was free to join them in Bangkok, but I hesitated until Grant was alone and Quinn had gone to greet some people at the bar before heading over to their table.

  “Hi, Grant,” I said.

  He was huddled over his phone and briefly glanced up before responding. “Hi, Jessica.”

  I cleared my throat and made sure Quinn was still at the bar. “I just wanted to say that I was able to get the time off to join you and Quinn next week.”

  He placed his phone in front of him and looked up at me again. “That’s great news. It should be a good time,” he said, then turned his attention back to the pages of notes and charts spread on the table in front of him.

  “Do you think you’ll have made a decision about your crew by then?” I let my words hang for a moment. He turned in my direction and arched an eyebrow. I shoved my hands in the back pockets of my denim shorts to try and suppress my nerves.

  For the first time, Grant took a moment to actually notice me. A moment that made me tuck my hair behind my ear and rub the back of my neck. His face was sympathetic, and he kept his lips together as he smiled, before commenting, “You’re very persistent.”

  “Well, I just want to know if I should put my flyer back on the board or not. I’m sure you can understand. The demand for inexperienced female crew members is at its peak.”

  He smiled. “I can imagine.”

  He began to turn away from me, so I placed my fingertips on his shoulder for a second.

  “Quinn told me he had no real prior sailing experience before you took him on in Miami. And—”

  He was shaking his head before I could finish my sentence. “I’m thinking it’s way too dangerous. Trust me, I’ve been receiving some concerning reports from MARLO, and it’s no place for a beautiful young girl like yourself.”

  I basked in his comment, shifting my weight to one leg and folding my hands in front of me. Offhanded as it was, he’d just called me beautiful, and hell if I wasn’t going to take the compliment. He also called me young.

  “I’m the same age as Quinn,” I noted.

  “You are?”

  “Yes, I am,” I said, and then thought about it. “Well, okay, he’s two years older than me. But it’s close enough, and what does age have to do with it anyway?”

  “Age has nothing to do with it. It’s just not the place for someone like you. I didn’t mean to imply you’re too young. I apologize.”

  I pulled one of the metal chairs away from the table. “May I?”

  He gestured for me to take a seat.

  I took a deep breath before starting. “I know I’m a stranger to you, but I’m not a stranger to taking risks, or adventure, or whatever you want to call it.”

  “I called it dangerous, not adventurous,” he reminded me.

  I let out a determined breath. “My mom died a few months ago, just before I moved out here.” I paused and looked away for a second. Grant folded his hands in his lap and sat back in his chair but left his eyes on mine.

  “And soon after her funeral, I felt something change inside of me. We weren’t very close, she and I, but for some reason I felt cut loose when she passed. Like I was being given the permission to do the things I’d never been allowed to do. That’s why I’m here in Thailand, thousands of miles from the mediocrity that haunted me back in Indiana.” He studied my face as I continued. “When Quinn e-mailed me to interview, I had that same feeling. Like this is something I’m meant to do.” I paused to gauge how crazy I sounded from the look in his eyes.

  He ran his hand through his hair and then stared at me for a good long time before answering, “I can appreciate that.”

  “Just think about it.”

  We locked eyes, and I felt as though he was trying to figure me out. His chiseled features were naturally twice as captivating and distracting up close.

  “You have the darkest eyelashes,” I said. The words just came out, cementing me as a lunatic in his eyes if I hadn’t already.

  He let out a small laugh and looked away for a moment. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

  “Thank you!” I squealed like the naïve young girl I’d just assured him I wasn’t, and then tamed my enthusiasm. “Thanks, Grant. That’s all I ask.”

  “I don’t exactly know how long the passage will take. Will you be able to keep your job here? I’m not one for schedules.”

  “It’s really more the school that I’m worried about, but I have four weeks’ vacation, and I will talk to my director. That is, of course, if you decide to bring me along.”

  “I thought you were the director?” he asked.

  “Assistant director, but I spend most of my time in the classroom, teaching English.”

  “Is that right?” He sat up. “I noticed the children seemed to be all different ages.”

  “There is a bit of an age range, but they’re all on the same reading level. Our school doesn’t have a ton of money, like some of the American schools here, so we sort of work with what we have. There are a decent number of books, as you may have noticed, but things like basic school supplies are, well . . . in short supply. Pencils, note pads, scissors. Those sorts of things. Th
e other staff and I buy what we can when we have some extra money or receive donations.”

  Grant smiled at me. “I can tell you love what you’re doing.”

  “Thank you. I really enjoy it.”

  Quinn walked up a moment later. “How you gonna get my beer with your ass in my chair?” he asked, tousling my hair with his hand.

  I stood and smoothed my hair down. “I’m going to Bangkok with you.”

  He lifted his arm for a high five.

  Chapter 11

  Okay, everybody!” I said, clapping my hands and trying to get my students’ attention. “It’s time to clean up. Please put all the markers back in the bin, bring me your drawings, then line up against the wall.”

  The kids quickly did what I asked—all except for Alak, who was always in his own world, and still drawing when I walked over to the table where he was seated.

  “Alak, sweetie, it’s time to clean up.”

  He looked up at me and flashed me a toothless grin.

  “You lost another one?” I laughed and pointed to the hole in his mouth.

  He nodded enthusiastically, then stuck his tongue through the space.

  “You better grow those back quickly, or you’ll have to drink milkshakes forever!”

  His eyes lit up, and he leapt into my arms. Alak was a hugger, and I loved that about him, so I let him hang on for a second or two before pulling away and taking his drawing. He’d become like family to me. We’d meet on Sunday mornings and do our laundry together, and I’d bring food for him to feed the numerous stray cats and kittens that lived near the Laundromat. He called them Laundry Kitties. He loved cats, but his aunt forbade any pets in the house.

  “This is beautiful,” I said slowly. “Beau-ti-ful! You draw the best flowers, you know that?”

  “Yes,” he said, and hugged me again.

  “Okay, sweetie, go ahead and catch up with the other kids, all right?”

  “Yes,” he repeated, and ran after the others as they left for the day, single file.

  When I stood, I saw Grant leaning against the doorway with a backpack on his shoulder and a smile on his face.

  “Grant, hi. What a nice surprise.” I placed Alak’s drawing on my desk. “What are you doing here?”

  He walked into the classroom, absorbing every inch of the room with his eyes, then placed the backpack on the teacher’s desk. He was wearing long board shorts, sunglasses on his head, and a white cotton T-shirt that nicely accentuated his tanned skin.

  “I brought you some supplies.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “You . . . wow, thank you. That was so nice of you. But you’ve already done so much.”

  “I figured you all could use a few extra things. It’s no big deal. I sent Quinn to the mall. There are ten more backpacks filled with stuff over there in the entryway.”

  I was grinning, but my mouth was wide open. “Oh my gosh.” I couldn’t contain my astonishment. “I don’t know what to say. Thanks so much.”

  He shrugged. “Happy to help,” he said, then slipped his hands into his front pockets and walked over to the blackboard, where most of the kids’ drawings and schoolwork hung around the perimeter. He studied their work and even lifted a few of the overlapping pieces to see what was underneath.

  I stood silently and watched him glide about the room. He was in my space again, and I could feel him. He’d crossed the barrier between our two worlds and was getting to know me better whether he’d intended to or not. I was so intrigued and surprised by his gesture, I didn’t know how to properly express my gratitude in that moment. Gushing didn’t seem like the right thing to do, so I did my best to just keep him where he was.

  “Can I get you anything?” I offered. “Wait, let me rephrase that. Would you like a Dixie cup of warm water?”

  He sniffed. “I’m good,” he said, and slid into one of the desk chairs. “Maybe you can entertain me with a story about you this time.”

  I crossed my arms. “I haven’t been anywhere but here.”

  “Then tell me about where you come from.”

  I leaned against my desk. Not many people were eager to know anything about my hometown. I cringed while I thought about how to make it seem even remotely exciting.

  “Let’s see. Well, I led a relatively simple life back in Wolcottville. Population eight hundred. Traffic signals none. If you ever did happen to meet anyone at an intersection, you’d both just wave until the politer of the two held out, then you could proceed . . . with the guilt of knowing that you made the other person wait. There is a large Amish community there as well, so oftentimes you might encounter a horse and carriage, in which case you’d naturally give them the right of way, since horses tend to roll their eyes at niceties.”

  He laughed.

  “Your typical small town where church dinners and high school football games are the main source of entertainment. That and the 4-H Fair every summer.”

  “4-H?”

  “It’s a youth organization, and stands for Head, Hands, Heart, and Health. Some kids would show sheep and pigs and offer them for auction. Others would do baking or clothes making, both of which I tried and failed at due to ‘lack of enthusiasm for the craft’ I was told, so I showed horses. All summer long I’d ride every day once my indoor chores were done. Then I’d head out to clean the stalls, brush the horses, feed the horses, and exercise them. If I had a dollar for every time my dad told me to ‘practice my riding,’ I’d have had enough to hire someone to practice for me.”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  “Which part?”

  “The whole thing. A little slice of Americana,” he said with a wistful look.

  “Are you feeling homesick?”

  He took a moment before answering, “Not in the slightest.” He stood. “I really need to get back to the boat. I’m having some work done on the generator.”

  I glanced at the floor, then threw my arms up. “Can I at least give you a hug?” I asked, briskly walking toward him. “I’m a hugger,” I told him. Who can resist a hugger? I know I couldn’t.

  He turned to face me, and I stood on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck and shoulders. He gently patted my back as I inhaled the scent of him. He smelled regal and damp and solid. Like Poseidon, king of the sea.

  I began talking as he slowly released his grip. “Well, I can’t tell you how much this will mean to the kids. Especially when they hear it’s from you.” I rested my weight back down on my heels but kept my head up to look him in the eyes.

  “It’s my pleasure. Thank you for telling me about yourself.”

  I nodded. “Thank you for asking.”

  “I’ll see you around,” he said, and turned to leave.

  “Grant?” I didn’t want him to leave.

  He stopped and looked at me over his left shoulder.

  “Have you made any decisions about your crew yet?”

  He smiled with his eyes. “I have,” he said, and walked out.

  Chapter 12

  I was working the lunch shift the following Saturday when Quinn sidled up to the bar in his signature Nike visor that read “Just Do It Me.”

  “Morning, Jess.”

  I glanced at the clock. “It’s almost two o’clock,” I said, and leaned my elbows on the bar, crossing my arms.

  “So you’re really serious about this crew position? Grant tells me you’re relentless.”

  I stood straighter. “I am.”

  “Have you ever sailed before?” he asked, grabbing a toothpick and placing it in his mouth.

  “No.”

  “Ever been on a boat before?”

  “Many times.”

  He nodded. “Ever get seasick?”

  “Nope.”

  “You like whiskey?”

  “Nope.”

  “You mind moldy bath towels and clogged toilets?” he said, grinning.

  “Nope.”

  “Now I know you’re lying,” he said.

  I put a glass of ice water in f
ront of him. “I think it would be an unbelievable experience, and I will do the best job I can possibly do. I promise I’m not just looking for a vacation.”

  “Good, because it will be anything but. We basically need a third person so that we can split up the lookout shifts between us and allow each other to get some sleep.”

  “I can do that,” I said. “And I require very little sleep as it is. Most nights I’m up reading until past midnight, and then I get up at six to teach.”

  He patted the countertop of the bar and stood up. “Well, I told Grant it was a great idea. It’s only a couple of weeks, and the threats are the same each year. Grant’s on top of it, so there’s nothing to worry about.” He smiled. “And, hey, Imagine could use a woman’s touch.”

  I was elated to hear he was on my side.

  “I’m only concerned about one thing,” I said.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “It’s Grant. I can’t get a read on him. I don’t think he likes me very much.”

  Quinn rolled his eyes. “Who, the old man of the sea? He likes you a lot. In fact, he likes everybody. He’s just a hard nut to crack.”

  I shook my head. “No, no, I’m sure he does. That sounded stupid. I just mean that he doesn’t say much, and I’m sure we’d have to communicate on the boat.”

  “He’ll talk to you plenty. He’s just . . .” Quinn paused and glanced over his shoulder before continuing. I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. “It’s nothing. He’ll be fine, and I think you’d do a great job.”

  I was curious about what he’d left out, but I didn’t want to pry. “Well, I’m glad you’re on my side. I hope it works out.”

  “He needs to make a decision soon because I have to get back to the States by early March.”

  “Well, I hope I get the chance to join you.”

  “Me too, but let’s focus on Bangkok first. You own any short skirts?”

  I tossed an olive at him.

  That Friday I took a cab to the back entrance of Phuket International Airport, where they have the runway for private jets. I paid my driver, then walked through the gate of a chain-link fence toward a sleek, petite white plane fit for a movie star. Its ladder was folded down to the ground, and there was a golf cart parked at the bottom of the steps, where two men were discussing some paperwork.

 

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