Page 20 of A Shore Fling
I lock up behind her and then go around opening the windows. I immediately order pizza and salad from The Sand Bar, then call my sister while I wait for the delivery.
“Nina!” Irene answers after the second ring.
“Hey, you.”
“Are you in Maine?”
“I am. I just got to the house and ordered pizza.”
“Why did you arrive so late?” she asks, sounding concerned.
“It’s a long story.”
“Tell me!” she demands, and I don’t feel like arguing.
“Oh, fine. I took an Uber from the airport to the harbor where the Sea Ray, which is included in the rental, was docked. I was given a quick lesson on how to operate the boat, and then I went on my way.”
“Hold up. You drove a boat by yourself?”
“Yeah.” I mean, technically I did.
“Why did your voice waver?”
“Because I ended up driving onto a sandbar and getting stranded on a small island for about five or six hours.”
“Are you joking?”
I sigh. “If only.”
“Is it horrible to wish I’d been there as a witness?”
“You mean as a witness to my humiliation?”
She giggles. “Absolutely. Did you lose your shit?”
“No. What good would that have done?”
“Nina, forever the calm and composed Moreau sibling. So what did you do to kill time?”
“I sat in the shade of some trees, but it was still hot as hell, so I had to keep wading into the water.”
“How did you get off the island?”
“The harbormaster rescued me.”
“Ooh, I’m picturing some grouchy old guy with a grizzled beard like Captain Quint inJaws.”
“You got the grouchy part right, but the rest couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“Tell me all the deets.”
“His name is Travis, and he’s probably around forty.”
“He’s hot?”
It pains me to admit that labeling him as merely hot is inadequate. “He’s handsome and very manly. Tall and muscular with a heavy side of sarcasm.”
“Sounds like you’re in love, sis.”
