Page 84 of The Oscar Escape
She eyed the beautiful thing. “Nobody’s going to eat this lobster? Wait, she needs a name. I’ve got it. Clawdia Junior.”
“No, ma’am,” the old lobsterman chuckled. “No one will eat Clawdia Junior. She’s a real treasure.”
She handed Del the creature, removed her thick gloves, then decided to strike while the iron was hot. “This is just a guess, Del, but I’m willing to bet this means the island and ocean approve of me.”
Del chuckled as he set the lobster in a bath of seawater. “It more than approves of you. I’d say it chose you,Aria. You and Oscar.”
That was the first time he’d called her by her first name.
He removed his gloves and wiped his weathered cheeks with the back of his hand. “This has to be a sign that change is on the horizon—that not all is lost for Havenmatch Island.”
“With the tourism board?” she asked gently, recalling Etta’s words and the general sense of doom she’d felt rolling off the planning committee in palpable waves.
“We have a partnership with the Maine Office of Tourism,” Del explained. “They provide funds to help us maintain the island. It’s not easy to pull in lobsters using old traps. We want to keep that tradition alive and keep this island prosperous. Havenmatch gained notoriety thanks to the arts community and the lobstering. It was an odd match—artists and fishermen all coexisting together. We’re unique—or at least we used to be. The tourism folks were happy to help keep the lights on and the ferry running. They’d match what revenue we generated. But with the drop in visitors and the poor performance of the Love and Lobsters Festival over the last several years, they’re giving us one more chance. And then there’s the Sweet Escape Inn.”
“What about the inn?” Oscar asked.
“It’s a lot for Etta and me to keep up. It was handed down to her by her parents. She’s a Havenmatch girl, through and through, but we never had kids of our own. It wasn’t for lack of trying. We would have liked to have had a son or a daughter. We’ve made peace with it, but it was sure nice when you came to the island years ago, Oscar. Etta and I loved having you around. I liked taking you out on the boat, teaching you how to be a lobsterman. Etta and I wondered if that’s what it would have been like if we’d become parents.”
No wonder Del hadn’t been her biggest fan when she’d arrived. He adored Oscar—thought of him like a son. And then he met the guy’s lunatic of a wife.
Oscar rested his hand on the fisherman’s shoulder. “You were there for me when I needed an escape, and you and Etta have come through for Aria and me. I think of you both as family, Del. When we needed help, I knew I could count on you.”
Del nodded and looked over his shoulder at the island, taking a moment. “We’ve only had a trickle of visitors to the inn over the last decade, but they are still so many costs to keep a structure of that size running.” He gazed at the cotton candy lobster, and his expression brightened. “But this . . . this is a sign. I can feel it in my bones. It’ll choose again.”
She didn’t know what that meant.
Del cleared his throat and studied his feet. “I’m sorry I’ve been so gruff toward you, Aria. It’s my nature as an islander to be wary of outsiders and protective of the home I love.”
She waved him off. “I didn’t exactly show up to your island exhibiting my best manners. And I can be quite surly myself, on occasion.”
“On occasion?” Oscar teased, but there was nothing but love in his voice.
With the sun glittering on the water and the boat rocking side to side like a lazy metronome counting out the beats in a soothing lullaby, Del wasn’t the only one who felt something in his bones. She inhaled the crisp salt-kissed air, then peered at the island as a certainty took hold. “We’ll make this Love and Lobsters Festival one for the record books, Del.”
“I agree. The winds have shifted,” he answered.
He was right about that. The winds must have literally shifted because what she smelled was decidedly less fresh. It had to be her fishing attire. A wicked idea sparked, and she glanced at Oscar. “But I need something from you, Del.”
“Name it, kid.”
She tugged on one of the life jacket’s faded canvas ties. “This beauty here—it’s not a piece of treasured island history, is it?”
“That ratty old thing? If you want it, it’s yours.”
She touched the chipped buckle. “It’s growing on me.” The entire island was growing on her.
“This wife of yours is something special, Oscar. If you’re a smart man, you’ll do one thing.”
“What’s that, Del?”
The old lobsterman cracked a warm grin. It lit up his face. “She might be a mainlander, but she’s got the island magic in her. You hold on to her and don’t let go. What a match you two are.”
Match.There was that word—a word that had lingered in her mind since she was a girl.
Oscar took her hand and touched the ring. “That’s what I plan on doing.”
The breath caught in her throat. Did he want to marry her—for real? Did she want that? They hadn’t talked about it because, well, the thought of it was nuts. But then again, was it? He had to be her match. Not to mention, the man was on her side. Sure, he’d basically kidnapped her and had gone about helping her in the most over-the-top way, but he’d done it because he loved her. He wanted what she wanted.
