by Wood, Vivian
But that just goes to show that you don’t know what is going on with people. They are inscrutable and opaque. You can never guess how the past has fucked up anyone.
I’m brooding as I guide the yacht up the coast of Vancouver Island. Remembering the exact moment of impact in my relationship with Michelle…
The moment that I found out that she had died.
Not just died… she took her own life.
I was about here actually, cruising toward Alaska. Calling my message service to check in, the bad news was given to me over my voicemail, of all things.
My fists clench.
No one should get news like that over something so impersonal as a message left on their cell phone.
“Hey,” Malkia says, swinging open the door behind me.
I look back at her. “Yeah?”
She looks past me, out the front windows. “Just trying to figure out the timing of when I should prepare everyone to make landfall.”
“Hmm.” I eye the coastline, which I’ve seen on six yacht trips per year for almost twenty years straight. Starting early on with my father at the helm, later making the trip with Malkia at my side. I could sail this trip in my sleep by now. “I’d guess about an hour, maybe a little less.”
She nods, still looking out at my view. “Are you okay?”
My brows hunch. I turn away from her with a silent sigh. “Yeah.”
Malkia crosses her arms and leans against the door frame. “Luna didn’t know, Gabe.”
I make a face. “She still doesn’t know that Michelle killed herself. And I would like to keep it that way, if at all possible.” A bitter bit of acid in my stomach works its way upward in my gullet. “I would rather keep all staff at arm’s distance, Mal.”
“I know, I know.” She pushes herself off the door frame. “I’m going to go tell the clients to be ready in a half an hour.”
Nodding my head, I listen to the whoosh of the door sliding shut behind me. I exhale and reach over to turn the radio up. Usually I keep the communications radio turned on low, but when I’m steering the boat into a harbor like the one we’re about to enter, I like to be aware of all the comings and goings of sea traffic.
I can see the village of Starling Harbor now, a handful of buildings clustered together. It’s not much to look at but my family has used this harbor as a stopping point for years.
Of course, there are almost no boats in Starling Harbor when I pull the ship up to the dock. There is only a fishing vessel and it looks ill-used.
I turn the engines off and drop the anchor, then head down to the main deck. It’s chillier than usual today and I zip my parka all the way up. The clients wait impatiently there, dressed in their warmest gear. They all carry overnight bags because they are going to stay in the village’s hotel.
That will leave myself and the crew to sleep on the boat. The crew are gathered further away from the gangplank, looking eagerly toward the stubby little brown buildings that make up the village.
Most people are ready to get off the boat after being cooped up for two days. Me, though? If I had my way, I’d never leave.
“Are we ready to explore off ship?” I asks the clients.
Two of the crew members lower the gangplank as the clients cheer. They lead the clients off the ship, with the crew following close behind.
Leaving Carlos behind to keep an eye on the boat, I start down the gangplank. As soon as I step on dry land, I feel a little nauseated.
After my body grows used to the constant shifting of the sea, it’s always a bit of a hassle to regain my land legs.
An older First Nations couple comes down the dock to greet us. “Hello. Hello. Welcome to Starling Harbor,” says the woman.
The man inclines his head but does not speak.
“Everyone, these are our hosts, Smith and Sarah,” Malkia announces. “To answer some of your questions, yes, they are First Nations, yes, they speak English, and yes they live here in the village. Okay?”
Sarah bows her head. “Thank you, Malkia. If you will all just follow me into the village, we will get you all settled.”
She turns and starts back up the gently sloping dock. I follow the group up to the village.
The clients follow Sarah and Smith toward the little inn. The experienced crew members head toward the pub and most of the new members follow them.
Malkia hangs back, watching me closely. Luna bites her lip and stays put too, her gaze sliding between the two of us.
“Where should I go?” Luna asks.
Malkia looks at me. “Gabe?”
I shrug. “There are only two places to go. Most of the crew goes to the pub. I think there is also a shop that sells tea, but it’s been years since I’ve been in there.” I scrunch up my face. “I don’t actually remember which building it is in.”
Malkia gives Luna a look. “So basically, we go to the pub.”
I shrug. “She’s not wrong.”
We set off after the rest of the crew, ducking inside the low front door of the pub. It’s been modeled after an ancient English pub; there is a fireplace, there are a number of heavy wooden tables with stools, and there is a massive dark wood bar on the right. The air smells like spiced meat in here, making my mouth water.
“God, that smells great,” Malkia says, echoing my thoughts.
A young man looks up from where he is pouring drinks behind the bar and nods. Luna looks around at the choice of tables, zeroing in on the only empty table.
“How about there?” she says, nodding.
“I’m going to go to the bar. What’ll you guys have?”
“A French 75,” Luna answers immediately.
Malkia and I both look at her oddly.
“That was a quick answer,” I say.
Her cheeks color. “My brother owns a bar and he doesn’t have time for anyone to fool around. With Luca, you either know what you want or you get a glass full of tequila.” She sticks her tongue out in disgust. “I learned what to ask for really quickly.”
“I’m pretty sure they just have beer and whiskey here,” Malkia says. “And don’t even bother with specifying which kind of whiskey. They have one kind with no label.”
I stretch. “I’m pretty sure someone distills it on site.”
Luna looks thoughtful. “Then I’ll have a beer, please.”
“Same,” Malkia says.
As they make their way to the remaining empty table, I head to the bar. It takes a minute for the silent man behind the bar to finish pouring and serving the drinks he already has, but I don’t mind.
I notice a chalkboard to the far right, indicating that they have two kinds of beer and whiskey. At the bottom of the board, it reads, Trivia Today, 5 pm.
I look at my watch. That’s less than two hours from now. After I get a round of beers, I head back to the table and sit between Malkia and Luna.
Luna takes an experimental sip of her beer, wiping foam from her mouth. “Mmm!” she says, looking up. “That’s really good.”
Mal looks at me. “Please tell me that you ordered us some of whatever smells so good.”
“I did.” I take a sip of my beer, nodding to Luna. “I hope you like venison, because I have a feeling that’s what the scent is.”
She makes a face and shrugs. “I’ll try anything, I guess.”
I take another swig of my beer and shrug right back at her. “Okay. It’s the only thing you’re going to get on land today.”
“I hope that they have that really good hot sauce here. What is it called? Humble?” Malkia asks.
I tilt my head, trying to remember. “Something like that.”
Malkia looks to Luna. “When we were children, our parents owned this company and ran charters just like this. One of the ways that we bonded was over hot sauce.”
“Mal didn’t like anything spicy until she turned twelve,” I say with a slow smile. “Then it was like a switch flipped. She couldn’t get enough.”
Mal shakes her head. “It may hav
e seemed that way, but I assure you that I had to force myself to like the taste of peppers.”
“Anyway, we still like to keep the tradition going,” I finish.
Luna looks between us, smiling. “It sounds like you had a wonderful childhood.”
I shrug. “We were always poor growing up, but we didn’t mind. Right, Mal?”
She nods, sipping her beer. “Quite right. Our parents were always around, always teaching us about the natural world.”
Luna sighs. “That is really sweet. My parents took off for Europe when I was a kid.” A corner of her mouth turns down. “You know what they say. More money, more problems.”
I raise my eyebrows. “I don’t think I would be the same person if I didn’t spend all that time by my dad’s knee, watching him pilot boats.”
Luna looks down, flushing. But in the next second the silent bartender arrives with the steaming bowls of food.
I look down at the amazing-smelling stuff. There is a hunk of French bread on the side and some kind of brown stew. I can see bits of carrot and potato and what I assume to be venison.
Malkia asks for hot sauce and the bartender brings her a new bottle of something spicy. She tastes a little, declares it to be very, very hot, and then douses her food with it.
I taste the stew first. My eyes close for a second. This kind of homemade food is by far my favorite.
I add a little hot sauce on one side of the bowl and then start eating. Luna is less enthusiastic about digging into her bowl.
“What’s wrong?” Mal asks her.
Luna gives me a placating smile. “Nothing. Just… you know. I was thinking that before I left Seattle, the last meal I had was a super fancy salad with kale and fresh salmon. Basically the opposite of here, you know?”
I scowl at Luna. “No one is forcing you to eat the stew, Luna.”
Luna gives her head a tiny shake. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… I don’t know. Your lives are very, very different from my usual routine.”
Malkia cuts in. “And what’s that, Doctor?”
Luna flushes. “Well, first off, I’m not technically a doctor yet. I have to pass a set of exams this fall first.”
That gives me pause. Mal just rolls right past it, though. “And what is your life like? A lot galas and stuff? That’s what rich people do, right?”
Luna rolls her eyes. “Maybe the older generation. I actually just work a lot and study most of the time that I’m not on the job.”
I frown. “And when you say work…”
“I mean working shifts at the ER, mainly.” She smiles. “I actually just gave my notice there, because in the fall I am going to be doing my internship. I won’t have time for another job.”
Mal tears off a piece of her bread. “It sounds like you don’t mind working a lot as long as you are doing what you love. Gabe is like that too. He would work nonstop and never leave the boat if we let him.”
I give Luna a hard smile. “On the surface, it sounds like we are similar. But I think it just reinforces how different the worlds we come from really are.”
Luna shrugs. “I guess if you want to see it that way, sure.”
I push to my feet, eyeing Malkia. “Speaking of that… I’m going to get another beer and then take my food back to the ship.”
“Oh, come on Gabe…” Mal says, scrunching up her face.
But I’m done. “I’ll see you both later.”
After dropping a wad of cash on the bartender, I head out, my brain awash in the differences between Luna and me.
Chapter Fourteen
Luna
Late the next morning, I wake up in my little bunk. My phone is switched on but it’s on silent; if I’m honest about it, I have basically had the ringer put in silent mode since 2008.
I realize that I woke up because my phone keeps buzzing. I also realize that everyone else has already gotten up, leaving me to sleep in. Checking my phone, I see five texts from Cate.
How is the cruise going?
Are you actually getting these messages?
I really need to talk to you about what is going on with Harper and Smith.
Your brother is a real jerk. I love him, but also, I kind of want to punch him in the mouth sometimes.
It’s been a week! Call me already!!
I can’t help but grin. As my best friend, I knew that Cate would have a hard time adjusting to me being gone. But her texts serve as a reminder that there is a whole other world waiting for me at home.
It’s not just Gabe and Malkia and this boat, even if they are all I see day to day.
Getting up, I dress in casual clothes and head to the kitchen for coffee. The guests are spending the day on a nature hike, so I’ve got time to kill. I pop up onto the main deck and look around.
Alex nods at me from her post above me on the upper deck. I smile and wave, pulling my fleece tighter against my body.
Then I walk to the very back of the boat, checking to make sure that I still have signal. When I video call Cate, she answers almost immediately.
“Whhhhaaaaaattttt?” she cries. “You’re alive!”
She is dressed for work at the bar in a short black dress and an apron. She grins. “Just a second, let me go somewhere private.”
“Take your time,” I say, looking out over the bay. The water is a distinctly gray color just now, but it’s relatively smooth inside the bay. It’s windy today, the air chilly. Glancing further out to the horizon, I see that the ocean is pretty choppy.
“Okay!” Cate says, calling my attention back to the screen. “It’s so bright where you are.”
I push a couple strands of hair back that are blowing across my face. “Yeah, it’s bright but cold up here in British Columbia.”
“Ugh, I’m jealous. There is nothing happening over here for me.” She wrinkles her nose. “Tell me everything that you’ve been up to. I wanna live vicariously through you.”
That makes me chuckle. “I am living pretty glamorously. You should see my sleeping quarters. They are seriously so small, it’s a little ridiculous.”
“Whatever, you’re on an adventure.” Cate sighs. “I wish I was on an adventure.”
I give her a look. “You know that my brother would take you anywhere you want to go in a heartbeat, right?”
Her cheeks grow pink. “Yes. I want to hear about you, though. How is it working for Gabe?”
I consider that for a second, puffing out my cheeks. “Frustrating, mostly. He’s very grumpy. Secretive too.”
“That really sucks,” she says, frowning.
“Yeah. Did you know that Gabe had a fiancée? Apparently, her name was Michelle and she died.”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“I know! When did she die? Was it before or after I met him in Vegas? But of course, he asked me not to tell people about that night… so I’m walking on eggshells, trying to tiptoe around Gabe’s feelings…”
Cate shakes her head. “I had no idea that you were going through all that.”
It takes a second for me to find what I want to say. “It’s not so bad, really. At least Gabe’s sister is really cool. She’s the first mate and she keeps everything running smoothly.” I pause, a thought occurring to me. “We should totally charter a yacht for a few days. Not this one obviously, because Gabe apparently hates all the ‘clients’, as he calls them.”
I make air quotes, which causes Cate to giggle. “Why does he hate them?”
“He hates rich people, I guess. Some kind of classist nonsense. I mean, you grew up with less money than Luca and I did. Are we really that bad?”
I cock my head, expecting Cate to laugh. But there is a strange hesitation on her face.
“Well, no…” she says carefully. “But you do have to imagine that to anyone who grew up struggling to make ends meet, your lifestyle can be a bit… flashy and in your face…”
That gives me pause. “Really?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, really. The fact that we are
even having this conversation is really sort of absurd. You were extremely privileged growing up. I would just… I don’t know, bear that in mind.” Her gaze narrows. “Especially when you’re talking to Gabe and his sister, who you already find to be sort of sensitive on this subject.”
“Huh.” I chew on that bit of advice, mulling it over. “Thanks for putting me in check.”
She smiles. “Anytime. What else are best friends for? Besides, I want you to have the best chances of falling in love with this guy as possible— “
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who said anything about love? Because that is just not in my five year plan, Cate.”
She wiggles her eyebrows. “Exactly. When you aren’t looking for love, love sneaks up on you and explodes all over your life.”
“Luna!” Malkia yells.
I look toward the sound of her voice, down on the dock. She looks serious, so I whisper goodbye to Cate and stride to the side of the boat.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Get your medical supply kit and come up to the village. There is a villager who got trampled by a horse and the doctor is an hour away.”
“On it!” I call, rushing downstairs. I grab my medical bag and race back upstairs, hurrying down to the dock.
Malkia is there, waiting to hustle me up the gentle curve of the dock and toward one of the stubby little buildings. “Gabe is keeping him company inside here.”
She opens the door and I duck inside. Gabe and three other people are standing by an overstuffed chair, concern written all over their faces.
I hear a groan and can make out a young man clutching his ribs, sitting on the chair and making noises.
When Gabe sees me, the intensity on his face only increases. “There is Luna, our boat’s doctor.”
I move toward the patient. The circle clears enough for me to see the young man, his face contorted with pain.
“Doctor, please help my nephew!” one of the women gathered around him says.
But my eyes are laser focused on the young man. I kneel beside him, my fingers finding the pulse point at his wrist. I look him in the eyes, trying to ascertain whether he has neurological damage or not.
