Page 2 of Grounds for Love

“Come in!” I shout from the kitchen and dump an overly generous amount of grounds in the filter. I make shit coffee, but my taste buds have adjusted over the years and don’t expect much anymore. It’s the caffeine I’m really after.

Blake walks in the kitchen just as the first drops of coffee hit the pot. “Do you want a cup?” I ask.

“Not if you made it. I like the lining of my stomach just fine. Besides, I already had a cup of vile decaf with my imitation eggs and toast that tasted like cardboard.”

I grin. “Hannah has you eating healthy again?”

“You know it. The doctor said I could lose a few pounds and she’s taken it to heart. She dumped anything edible in our house into the garbage and replaced it with nuts and twigs and shit I wouldn’t even use as fish bait.” He shudders to prove his point.

I chuckle and pop bread in the toaster, put the last piece of bacon on a paper towel to drain with the other five, and then I start cracking eggs into the heated cast iron frypan with a sizzle. I add a few more because I know someone is going to be joining me. “What brings you by this early? Your stomach needing real food?”

“That wouldn’t hurt. I wanted to invite you over for a low country boil tomorrow night.”

“Sounds good. Is the whole crew coming?” I dump eggs, bacon, and toast on two plates and set them on the table before grabbing my coffee and joining my brother.

“Ahhh, man, this smells divine,” Blake says just before stuffing his face.

I snicker. “Eat up, man, but if you mention this to Hannah, I’ll tell her about—”

“Now, there’s no need to blackmail me. I know not to bite the hand that feeds me. You shall remain nameless and this meal never happened.” He finishes with a chomp of bacon and a devious smile.

He’s a delusional bastard if he thinks Hannah isn’t going to know, but I’ll let him live in denial.

“The family’s been invited, but you know how it is. If they can come, they will. Bode and Kimberly will likely be there, but I’m not sure about David and Shyanne. Shy has a promotional thing in New York and they may not be back in time.”

Bode and Kimberly own the bed and breakfast, a fishing charter, and the only airplane service on the island. David isn’t blood related, but he and Bode grew up together as best friends and he’s just as much a family member as any of us now. His wife Shyanne is an eight-time MMA Champion. She’s retired from fighting, but she still endorses products she believes in.

“Adan said he’ll be there unless he has a meeting.”

Adan is Blake’s oldest son who lives in the Wilmington area and is big into real estate development. He’s done quite well for himself.

“And what about Case?” Blake’s youngest son Case was a stock car driver who retired from racing and bought the local garage when the previous owner left town. That just leaves Gage whom I know won’t be there because he’s a Marine and currently deployed.

Blake chuckles and asks, “You think Case is going to miss his momma’s cooking? And probably anyone else Hannah sees fit to invite. You know what a soft heart she has. If she thinks someone is in need of some food or family time, she’s going to invite them.”

He’s right. Hannah is a jewel. She and my wife were best friends growing up and until the day Grace died. I had a precious gem once too. I can almost hear the grating of metal on metal as the wall I’ve built around my emotions clangs shut.

I drain my bitter coffee. “Eat up, buddy. I have the nine o’clock run.”

After Blake leaves, I wash up the dishes and wipe down the counter and table before taking a speedy shower and dressing. When I make sure the house is neat and orderly, I jump in the truck for the fifteen minute trip to the Faire Island Ferry Station. Today is Thursday and that puts an extra zip in my step—a fact I’m completely ignoring.

I’m in a relatively good mood, which for me is rare, until I step on the ferry and run into a passenger concerned about sharks. She latches onto my arm in mock terror. What the fuck?

Is this girl for real?

I should have kept walking when she stopped me. I pull my arm from between her breasts and put distance between us. She’s probably barely drinking age, young enough to be my daughter, and I find it hard to believe she’s interested in a man my age.

The girl—that I now know is named Tiffy—twirls her blonde hair and looks up at me with hopeful blue eyes. “So, have you driven this boat long?”

My frown straight-lines. There goes my good mood. I’ve been a “captain” of this ‘ferry’ longer than the girl trying to flirt with me has been alive. I don’t have time for this shit. I reply with a short, “Yes.”

She’s clueless to my mood change or that I’m not interested in her or in the chatty conversation she’s been trying to pull me into for the past ten minutes. Which is five minutes past the limits of my patience.

Again, she prattles on about nonsense that I don’t care enough to listen to as she touches my arm and bats those fake lashes at me.

“We’ll be leaving shortly.” I deliver that line with a tip of my hat before walking away with haste.

Then she calls out, “Sure. Maybe we can get together sometime. I’ll be here all week. We’re staying at the Calming Rays rental. It’s on North Beach.”

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