Page 27 of Dibs
“Next time I tell you to put those away, ignore me,” I practically whimper, dropping her chin, and then I stare straight ahead at the sun gently dipping behind the mountains.
“What a beauty,” I whisper, my meaning two-fold.
“The sky is perfect. A golden swirl.” I can hear the smile in Beck’s voice as she leans her head against me.
Then, suddenly, from behind us, “Excuse me, young lady. May I please ask you to cover up so I can access my boat?”
15
ASPYN
I’m horrified when a sweet older man asks me to cover up. Right away, Deac hands me my shirt, and I toss it over my head with apologies on my lips.
“Oh, no need to apologize. I remember the impulsivity of youth with fondness,” the man tells me as I jump up to my feet and whirl around to come face to face with him.
He’s the cutest older man: a head full of silver hair, hard-won wrinkles especially around his eyes, and he’s slight, maybe five-foot-five. His smile is warm, and it reaches his brown eyes.
“How old are you kids?” he asks.
“Twenty-nine. Not so young,” I laugh. “I’m Aspyn, and this is Deacon. I’m sorry again.”
“I’m Hans.” He speaks with the slightest of German accents. “I’ve seen you here before, fishing together. You seem like nice kids. I remember the days of nude sunbathing myself. This lake was cleaner thirty-five years ago, though. That was back when I met my late wife, Mary. Here, in fact. She was the guest on another man’s boat.”
Hans gives us a crooked smile that I find charming, and I send him an encouraging one back.
“So, how did you win her over?” I ask.
“We became friends. I waited for him to make a mistake and swooped in. I’m not proud of it, but I won her heart. Before that, I believe I was in what you kids call ‘the friend zone.’ I wasn’t a man of means back then, but she saw through those trappings into my soul.”
Tears swim in my eyes. “That’s beautiful, Hans. You said…your late wife? I’m so terribly sorry.”
Hans frowns and nods. “Thank you. She fought the cancer with everything she had. Three different times, she won. The fourth was too much for her frail body. We spent our last night on this little yacht six months ago, a few weeks before hospice came in to help give her peace.”
I’m going to sob for this old man, aren’t I? I put my hand over my mouth and try not to embarrass myself.
Instead, what comes out is, “Deacon just lost his mom to cancer a few months ago. It’s a beast. Again, I don’t have the words to express how sorry I am.”
“I’m sorry too, Deacon,” Hans tells him as Deacon visibly gulps. “The truth is, I’ve come to say goodbye to this ol’ boat. Without her, ‘Love in the Sun’ is just loneliness. I’m getting ready to sell her in the spring.”
I glance at the name of the boat in dark purple letters, and it tugs at my heartstrings.
“I’d like to take her out one last time before winter comes. Would you kids like to jump on board? We’ll be losing sunlight here soon, but the view of the stars from the center of the lake is priceless.”
Even though we need to get up early for moving day, Deacon and I can’t resist Hans’ charm, so we hop on to Love in the Sun, and Hans gives us the grand tour. It’s not a big yacht, but it has a living area, kitchenette, and a room with a queen-sized bed below deck, along with a fully-functioning bathroom I begto use. Up top, well-taken-care-of, shiny purple leather circular bench seats surround a round table where Hans tells us he and Mary played a great deal of card games over the years. We settle down into the leather seats while Hans drives the boat out to the middle of the lake.
The sunset is spectacular ahead of us, with the colors of dusk lighting up the skies in orange as bright as flames, fuchsia pinks, and even a bit of violet swirls. Despite how pretty it is, I keep catching Deacon staring at me, though he looks away every time I catch his eyes.
Hans turns off the boat, and we float, the clear blue lake stretching out on all sides of us; nothing but water and sky and mountains in all directions.
“Purple is Aspyn’s favorite color,” Deacon tells Hans as he motions to the leather we’re sitting on and the purple LED track lights shining bright.
“It was Mary’s as well. I had this boat designed with her in mind. She loved it. Going out on the lake was our favorite thing to do together, and I’m afraid now that she’s gone, I’ll not be able to stomach coming out here alone.” Hans pulls out his flip phone and takes a couple of photos of the sun setting in the distance. “I feel very small when I’m out here. Maybe too small,” Hans admits.
“Me too.” I nod.
Deacon is quiet but wears a thoughtful expression. “Sir, if I give you my number, will you call me come spring and let me know what your asking price is on this beautiful boat? I’ve been considering buying one for a long time, and by spring, I’ll probably have a good nest egg.”
Hans dismisses him with a wave of the hand. “You two remind me of me and my wife, and I think this good old boat would be happy in your hands. You’ll take it, with a discount, in April, if you’re still able.”
