Page 19 of Heart Strings
“Lark, I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry.”
Lark looks out over the side of the marooned sailboat. “Don’t worry about it. We’re all safe.”
I stride toward the red-faced captain, putting on my sweet bedside-manner voice. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Captain McGrath crosses his arms. “You can get comfortable. We’ll have to wait for the tide to come back in.”
“I— When is that?”
“About five.”
“Oh god.”
My days are scheduled down to the hour, even on the weekends. Laundry in the morning, meal prep for the week at eleven, this bachelor/bachelorette excursion at one, study group at five. Dinner at seven-thirty. Early to bed so I’m ready for my six o’clock shift tomorrow. I’d come to terms with sharing the small vessel with my ex for a couple hours. I hadn’t anticipated being stranded together on a sandbar.
I pace the short length of the boat, anxiety rising. “There’s a tugboat, right? They’ll pull us out.”
“No.”
“Harbor rescue?”
Captain McGrath stares at me blankly.
I snap my fingers as the solution dawns on me. “Can we call the coast guard?”
“We wait for mid-tide.”
For real?
“Fine. I’ll do it myself.” I pull out my phone, only to find that you can’t get cell service out on the water, though we’re only a few miles offshore. “Don’t you have a satellite phone?”
Silently, he rummages through a storage tub. Relief fills me that he’s come to his senses—until he pulls out a fishing rod and tackle box. Saoirse and I exchange an incredulous look. Rory plops down and asks Deirdre if she’s got anything stronger than lemonade. She doesn’t.
Drawing in a deep breath, I dump a packet of Splenda into my voice. “If you’re worried about how it might look for your…” The captain impales a writhing worm with a fishhook. I wince. “…reputation as a sailor, just let them know it was me.”
Captain McGrath props the rod over the edge of the boat and returns to his novel. I force myself to sit before I lose it. Gazing out at the slate-colored waves licking the hull of our stranded boat, I fantasize about garroting him with that fishing line. Unfortunately, we’ll need him to sail us back to shore.
The lack of movement and progress—any semblance of control—makes my skin feel too small. I’m a fixer; I can’t calmly wait in the middle of the bay for the tide to come.
Unbothered, Deirdre sips on her lemonade while Rory and Anvi joke about throwing a life preserver overboard and making a break for the shore.
Aidan takes a seat on the bench next to me while Saoirse, Lark, and Callum point out the Ferris wheel on the shore. Aidan’s body heat still lingers on my skin, a map of where he steadied me earlier, so I scratch at the spot, as if that will cancel it out.
“Things could be worse,” he starts.
I hold up a hand before he can jinx us with a sudden downpour. “Donotspeak a word about the weather.”
“I was gonna say at least you’re not the one footing the bill for this maritime disaster. I’m paying by the hour.”
“That does make me feel better, actually.” My smile flickers then flattens. “But I ruined Lark and Callum’s party.”
Aidan watches them, heads bent toward each other as they smile and point out landmarks along the promenade. “They don’t look too broken up about it.”
“Lark’s just too sweet to say anything. No one wants to spend an afternoon marooned.” I drop my shoulders in defeat. “I really wanted this to be perfect for her. For both of them.”
“Sometimes perfect is more about who you’re with than the circumstances you find yourself in.”
My gaze returns to Callum and Lark, whispering into each other’s ears. Our sailing adventure was upended thanks to my inappropriate thoughts, but they seem content, even when forced to a standstill. They are so sure about their commitment to each other that they’re ready to promise forever.
