And I’m up for the challenge.
I’m not backing down.
“It’s settled then,” Lacey says, exhaling loudly. “The honeymoon is still on. Four’s company.”
Tai puts his beer down on the table. “Well if that’s that, I’m going to head down to the boat and start prepping it. If we leave tomorrow, there’s a bloody lot of things I need to get done.”
He goes back into the house and I get out of my chair, following him inside.
“Hey,” I call out as I walk over and see him grabbing a glass of water in the kitchen. “Is this going to be okay?”
He frowns at me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…a last-minute voyage across the Pacific,” I say. “Don’t you have to spend months planning this?”
He shrugs. “As long as you have all the best equipment and the right food and a steadfast boat in capable hands, no. Not for a ten-day passage.” He gulps down the glass of water, then studies me. “I wouldn’t go if I couldn’t handle it. And to be honest, in a way I’m glad this happened. I’m sure Richard and Lacey would have been fine on their own on the other boat but…sometimes that passage can get pretty gnarly. Would hate for a storm to have caught them when Richard doesn’t have the experience.”
“What do you mean it gets gnarly? A storm?”
“It’s just an infamous passage,” he says, as if infamous is a good thing. “But this is a fair time of year to go. We’ll be fine.”
He puts the glass down and takes a few sauntering steps over to me. “At least, we’ll be fine. I’m not too sure about you.”
“What does that mean?”
“Right now you look a little ill.”
“I’m hungover.”
“Oh. I know.”
“I’m sure we’re all hungover.”
“It was a good party. I just hope you won’t be falling overboard any time soon. I don’t want to be the person to fish you out of the ocean and put you to bed, like a repeat of last night.”
“I fell in the ocean?” I ask, horrified.
You put me to bed?
The corner of his mouth ticks up. “No, but you did want to go skinny dipping really badly. I had to fight to keep my clothes on.”
“What?”
Suddenly a few images filter through my brain like dust.
Oh my god. I don’t think he’s joking. I remember my hands on his shirt, trying to undo his buttons, him laughing and prying my hands off of him.
“Shit,” I swear, pressing my hand into my forehead.
I’m blushing. Tomato Zone Three, all hands on deck.
“Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about,” he says, but there’s a mocking tone to his voice.
Oh, lord.
“I know you’ve been having a rough time,” he goes on. “That Chris guy sounded like a real wanker.”
“Oh my god, I was talking about Chris?”
“More like you were crying about Chris. Then you did some shots and passed out and I carried you to bed.”
I feel like I’m going to faint.
“Don’t worry, I was the perfect gentleman.”
“My shirt was on backwards!”
“I handed you the shirt and left the room. I don’t know what you did with it.” He walks past me to the front door, nodding his chin at the couch. “I slept there last night, and don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the couch on the boat, too. I have my manners.”
He opens the door and steps out. “You better go and start packing,” he calls out as he walks to his truck. I’m trying not to stare at his ass. “The south seas await.”
Fuck.
What the hell have I got myself into?
Six
Daisy
This was a big mistake.
I’m standing on Tai’s private dock, surrounded by Lacey, Richard, and mounds of bags, luggage, supplies and food, staring at the boat we’re supposed to do an ocean passage in, the Atarangi.
It’s small.
I know Tai said it was forty-two feet or something but for some reason it looks a lot smaller and older than I had imagined. My ex-boyfriend’s yacht had to have been at least twice the size, and new. Then again, it belonged to his money-bags father who made a fortune in Apple stock.
“How quaint,” my mother comments from behind me. “It’s…vintage.”
We have a small crowd sending us off this early morning. There’re my parents, Richard’s mom Edith (a carbon copy of him down to the glasses), and the Wakefields are here too, which surprises me considering this is something that Tai must do quite often.
“Don’t be fooled by her age,” Tai shouts at my mother from the cockpit. “She’s perfect for blue water sailing. You don’t get many ocean-worthy boats like this these days.”
Well, that’s a little reassuring.
And at least it’s a calm, clear morning, no red sky in sight (or however that sailor’s proverb goes). It’s just after dawn and the sun is slowly rising up over Tai’s place behind us, a small three-room house that he’s referred to a few times as a bach from the 50’s, whatever that means. All I know is that it’s just as retro chic as the boat, and has a stunning location on a private bay, surrounded by deep brush.
We woke up this morning when it was still dark out and I got a ride in the Wakefield’s car with Edith, while my parents took the newlyweds. I managed to get my new flight sorted out last night, with only a minor change fee.
Of course, my travel gear was never meant to go anywhere other than the trunk of a car or the belly of an airplane.
And Tai has decided this morning’s scorn isn’t devoted to the fact that there are four people’s worth of supplies to haul aboard, but is instead focused on my two shiny suitcases.
“Well, shit,” he grumbles, giving me a dirty look. “You couldn’t have given one of those suitcases to your parents to bring back for you?”
“I need my stuff!” I protest, already feeling vulnerable.
“We offered,” my father says, hands raised in a mea culpa.
It’s true. My parents offered to take the big suitcase back to the US, and I’m sure it would have been smart of me to send it off with them. But there’s stuff in there I need, like snacks I brought from home, bottles of wine, New Zealand kiwi chocolate (so good), and clothes of all sorts. I mean, who knows what kind of weather we’ll have out there.
Lacey does one of her patented eye rolls. “Great. Now the boat will probably sink from the extra weight.”
I glare back at her. “Doesn’t matter. The suitcases are waterproof. My stuff will stay dry even if we do sink.”
“Ah, perhaps this isn’t the best talk before we say goodbye,” Mrs. Wakefield says nervously.
I turn and give her a quick smile. “Sorry. I’m sure we’ll be fine. We’re in your son’s capable hands.”
The last part wasn’t sarcastic, but even so, I can hear Tai scoff.
And so the goodbyes commence.
I have to admit, I’m tearing up as I say goodbye to my parents. It’s not that I don’t think I’ll see them again, of course I will, but I haven’t had this much quality time with them since…well, ever. Even when I’ve come home for Christmas and Easter, it feels like a formality. Like something I’m supposed to do, and I’ve always gotten the impression that they’ve felt the same way. Like God is ordering them to have me over, rather than me being someone they want to see.
And these last few days have been about getting to know these new versions of my parents, as an adult, the versions that they become when they aren’t at home, surrounded by a million damn apples.
Then it’s time for us to set sail.
The cockpit is rather small but there’s enough space for all of us, with Tai behind the wheel. The lines are tossed, Richard running around and putting them all in their proper places, and the motor is turned on to a hearty purr, and then we’re pulling away from the dock.
The small crowd of our loved ones on the dock wave at us and we wave back as the boat makes its
way out of the small bay and into the harbor.
It’s bittersweet and exciting all at the same time. There’s something so invigorating about being on the water in the early morning hours, the breeze in your hair, setting sail for a far-off land.
“Should I do anything?” I ask no one in particular as the boat sloshes through the water.
“Stay out of the way,” Tai says.
I put my hand on my hip and give him a look.
Okay, so there’s no denying that this view of him is making my ovaries explode. I never knew I could be attracted to sailors, especially since they tend to be preppy types.
But Tai is the opposite of preppy. He’s more pirate than anything.
Sure, he’s in worn jeans and a grey t-shirt with a grease stain on it, what seems to be his standard uniform, and he’s got a ball cap on and a pair of aviator sunglasses hooked on the collar of his shirt. But it’s the way his big, roughed-up hands handle the steering wheel, the commanding stance he’s taking, the way his eyes are raking over the water in front of us, all of it equals some new level of kink I never knew was in me. First it was him eating an apple, now it’s him being a big boss pirate daddy commandeering a ship.
Then his eyes meet mine and I expect to see a hint of a smile in them.
I smile, anyway.
He doesn’t smile back.
“I meant what I said,” he says, his voice on edge. “Just stay out of the way.”
I blink. Wow.
He’s a mean pirate.
I narrow my eyes at him for a moment before tossing my hair over my shoulder and turning around.
I’m immediately reminded of how small this boat is and that Lacey and Richard both heard what he just told me.
“Why don’t you go downstairs and try to put your suitcases out of the way?” Lacey suggests, another attempt to get me pushed aside.
“But don’t put them in either fore or aft cabin,” Tai says, then pauses. “That means front and back.”
“I know what they mean,” I snipe at him. “I’m not an idiot.”
I’m just waiting for one of them to laugh at that, but to their credit, they don’t. It’s way too early to be starting off on the wrong foot.
And to think, you have ten more days of this.
Shit.
“Come on,” Lacey says. She goes to the hatch and pushes it back, walking backward down the stairs and into the belly of the beast.
I follow.
And I’m impressed.
Somehow the boat doesn’t seem as small down below. While up top felt a little cramped, I guess how the cockpit is set up a little forward on the boat, down here it feels more open, and everything is made of this gorgeous teak wood. This boat should be in a museum.
“Wow, this is nice,” I say. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
There’s a kitchen, or galley as they say, to the right of me, a navigation table and seat to the left. In front of me there’s the lounge area with two small couches and a table, and beyond that there’s a glimpse of the cabin at the front. There are Maori masks with pāua shell eyes on the walls, along with a few of Tai’s personal touches that give it this lived-in feel.
It’s very Instagrammable.
So, of course I pull out my phone and start taking pictures. Maybe if I don’t get back into the athleisure line life, I can start marketing boats.
“There’s a cabin back there,” Lacey says, gesturing behind us. “The owner’s suite, as they call it. But it’s ours for the journey.”
“Fine with me, I get my own cabin,” I say, walking to the one at the very front and poking my head in. It has its own door, a small closet, and own washroom. Score!
“Did Tai explain the shifts to you?” Lacey asks, watching as I haul my suitcases up onto the couch and start unzipping them.
“The shifts?” I ask as I rummage through my stuff. There’s not enough room in the closet for everything, so what I’ll do is put all the stuff I don’t need in the small carry-on, empty the bigger suitcase, and then put the carry-on inside it. I’m already proud of myself for the space-saving idea.
“I take it he didn’t,” Lacey says begrudgingly. “So for an ocean crossing, there must be at least one person on deck the entire time to make sure everything is fine and that we aren’t going to collide with any shipping containers that might not show up on the radar.”
I stop what I’m doing and look at her with wide eyes. “That happens?”
“Haven’t you seen that movie with Robert Redford? Yes, it happens. Hence why we all must take shifts. And since there are four of us, we’ll do it two people at a time. Which means Richard and I will be on our own shift during the night and then you and Tai will be on another.”
“Wait a minute. Why do I have to be with Tai?”
“Well, each shift has to have someone that knows what they’re doing.”
“I think I’d rather be with Richard.”
She adjusts her glasses. “Uh huh. Remember, this is our honeymoon.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“Listen, Tai is fine…just…don’t annoy him.”
I laugh. “You think I annoy him on purpose?”
“Maybe,” she says thoughtfully. “I think your personality in general is an anathema to him.”
I flinch. “What’s wrong with my personality?”
Now it’s time for Lacey to laugh, albeit dryly. “If you haven’t noticed, Tai is one of those people who takes things seriously. As he should. He’s been through a lot in his life, he doesn’t have time for people who seem to coast by.”
There are two things there catching my attention.
“He’s been through a lot? What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter and it’s none of your business,” she says.
Okay…
“And also, I don’t coast by,” I tell her.
She stares at me for a loaded moment, as if weighing what to say. “Yes, you do. You always have. You’re doing it right now.”
I throw my arms out. “How is this coasting by?”
“Well, you’re on a free trip to Fiji, for one, jumping aboard your own sister’s honeymoon.”
“You invited me!”
“And I didn’t think you’d come!”
Oh my god. So the truth is out.
“Well fucking hell!” I swear. “Let’s turn this damn boat around and take me back then!”
I don’t care that I sound like a petulant child, I march right up the stairs to the cockpit.
“Turn this boat around, I’m going back!” I yell at Tai.
He barely acknowledges me.
“Did you hear me? I’m not wanted, and I’m not spending the next ten days on this boat, ruining someone’s honeymoon.”
“I heard you,” Tai says calmly, his eyes on the horizon.
“I also heard you,” Richard says, walking down the length of the boat. “I regret to inform you that there’s no privacy on this vessel.”
Agh, he pronounces it priv-acy.
“And we’re not turning around,” Tai says. “You committed to this trip, now you’re in it. There’s no going back.”
“She doesn’t know the meaning of the word commit,” Lacey speaks up.
I’m having a hard time forming words against her relentless attack, she’s like a piranha with glasses. “What on earth are you talking about? I was committed to Chris!”
“Like you were to every other boyfriend you had before that you so easily discarded?”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Why is she even going there?
“I’m allowed to break up with people, you know,” I say. I almost tell her that it’s better than settling for the first guy that ever paid her any attention, AKA Little Dicky, but I know that would open a portal to Hell that I am not prepared to deal with.
“Because you can’t commit. And had Chris not cheated on you, I’m sure you would have kicked him to the curb eventually. It’s just that for once in your blessed life you have a little bit of
bad luck.”
I am seething. I angrily gesture to the boat. “And you’re happy about that, aren’t you? The fact that I lost my boyfriend and my job. Well guess what, my bad luck streak isn’t over. I’m on this boat with all of you guys and apparently I’m not going anywhere.”
“And the irony is that we’re all stuck with each other for the foreseeable future,” Richard says, laughing his stupid dorky laugh.
That’s not irony, that’s the damn point, I think.
Richard clears his throat and looks to his angry new wife. “But I think if we’re all going to survive this, Lacey, you’ll need to start being more courteous to your sister. She means well, despite the way she comes off.”
“Thanks,” I tell him dryly. Real compliment there.
Lacey just huffs, arms crossed. She can barely look at me. Finally she says, “Sorry.”
“There we go,” Richard says. “All is well.”
Yeah right. We haven’t even made it out of the Bay of Islands and we’re all ready to kill each other.
Or at least, everyone is ready to kill me and vice versa. This trip is going to turn into an unfair battle of three against one, three fucking serious grumps, versus me, the only normal person.
Thankfully, the early morning argument didn’t set the tone for the rest of the day. It actually passed by in a fairly peaceful way, probably because I put in some extra effort to keep my mouth shut and stay out of everyone’s way. Believe it or not, conflict isn’t my forte and the boat isn’t big enough to handle all my anxiety over it either.
We also come up with a routine of sorts for the next ten days, something that Tai says is extremely important when you’re trapped on a boat and time seems to work differently.
At night, Lacey and Richard will take the ten to three a.m. shift, then Tai and I will wake up and take the three a.m. to eight a.m. shift.
At 10 a.m., I will make breakfast (the only meal I’m good at).
At 1 p.m., Richard is in charge of lunch
At 6 p.m., Tai will make dinner.
At any time during the day Lacey will make bread or cookies, since she’s got the same level of cooking skills as I do and can only bake stuff. But Tai does say making bread on a boat is a popular thing to do during a long voyage, and that it’s something we’ll all look forward to.
Lovewrecked Page 7
