Page 40 of Missed Sunrise
He smiled softly to himself as he made a couple more keystrokes, and then he closed the laptop, giving me his full attention. “We had a good day today.”
I beamed, though it took more effort than usual, as the full morning of biscuit making and serving crashed into me. Mom and Dad had already left for the day, headed to one of Dad’s frequent doctor appointments.
“Better than good. We ran out of the Mardi Gras specials.”
He nodded, ever the man of few words. Then he pushed a key I hadn’t noticed toward me. “Could you get this to Cody sometime today?”
Scooping it up, I frowned at the lack of key chain. That wouldn’t do.
“He’s moving onto the houseboat?”
Vinh watched me closely, his dark eyes so calm but also so intense. “He is.”
I had many good memories on that boat, as did Vinh. Last year, Paul—the owner of the houseboat and a former co-worker of Bree’s from Fortuna—got unexpectedly promoted to a casino that was about an hour away down the coast. And, long story short, Vinh ended up renting the houseboat from Paul last year.
“Paul decided not to move the boat up to a dock near Titan?”
My brother’s answering smile felt… secretive. How delightfully curious. Almost as curious as the conversation I had with Aunt Ari early this morning.
I pocketed the key and then leaned against the counter again, but this time I rested my chin between both hands as I asked, “My dear brother, do tell me what you did.”
He smirked, and his eyes practically twinkled. “I made an investment.”
“Hmm. And does Princess know about this… investment?”
“Not yet, but we talked about the possibility before. She’s visiting her grandmother at the nursing home now, but I’ll tell her when she gets back. I’m hoping it’ll be a good distraction.”
I hoped so too. She always looked so drained after those visits.
Shaking the sadness off, I leaned over and pushed my brother’s shoulder. “Vinh, do you own a houseboat?”
His smile was big. “I’ll sign the paperwork at the end of the week.”
He put his laptop in its bag and hoisted it over his shoulder. Following his unspoken lead, I ran into the back and double-checked that all closing procedures were done. After we locked up, we loaded into his car and made the short drive to the cottage, where we parked beside Cody’s truck.
I unbuckled my seat belt, but Vinh made no move to do the same. He pulled out his phone, sent a text, and then gave me his attention. “I’ve gotta go pick up Bree. When you give Cody the key, could you tell him the boat’s new address and the lease agreement will be in his email sometime this week?”
I frowned at him. “New address?”
He was wearing his secret smile again as he gave me one of his infamous shrugs.
“Hmm.” I narrowed my eyes at him in suspicion but got out of the car and shut the door, keeping eye contact with him through the open window. Houseboat purchasing had put my brother in quite an interesting mood. “I’ll see you both when you get back?”
He dipped his chin in agreement, then threw his arm behind the passenger seat and looked over his shoulder as he backed out of the driveway.
I let myself into the cottage and was greeted by a sleeping Cody sprawled across the couch. He had one arm thrown across his eyes and his bare feet hanging off the end. His other arm rested against his stomach, rising and falling with his deep, even breaths.
He’d been sleeping here for a couple nights, but his truck was usually gone before I even got up, which had worried me. I knew from our many early morning chats as LL and Dezi that, unlike me, his early rising wasn’t by choice, but a battle with insomnia.
Tearing my eyes away from him, I took in the cluttered coffee table. His old laptop was open on top of an open textbook, andthere were scattered papers strewn across the table, the ones on top looking like course syllabi and timetables.
He must be thinking of going back to school.
Smiling, I eased out of the living room and into my bedroom, closing the door quietly before heading straight for my unfinished supply shelves. Uncle Gil had worked with Vinh on them and had even made the trip here from Gulf Shores to finalize the design before the actual building began. The frame was complete, and the bigger shelves were done too. All that remained were the smaller drawers.
I fished out a brass clasp from my hardware caddy and then pulled my yarn and macrame cord box from the shelf and sat it on my lap, thinking of the conversation I had with Ari this morning as I sat at my desk and got to work.
“Oh, my Liem,” she sighed wistfully and then gushed at full force and with almost no breaks or breaths:
