Page 4 of Under the Island Moon
“I guess we should let you get back to your own shop,” she said. No sense exposing him to an impending meltdown.
“You’re going in my direction,” he pointed out. “You want to walk me home, Bryce?”
“Can I see the boats?”
Miles moved out of the path and took a knee to be at eye level with Bryce. “If we get there before dark and your mom says it’s okay.”
Bryce moved close, holding up his arms. “Carry me,” he demanded.
“Bryce,” Molly warned.
“Please,” her son added belatedly, eyes wide. When Miles didn’t move, he turned that beseeching gaze on her. “His legs are longer, Mommy.”
Miles stood, scooping Bryce up with him. “Kid makes a good point.”
She shook her head. “Anything to see the boats.”
From his higher vantage point, Bryce seemed less interested in every festival game or tent. They made good time back to Miles’s shop at the far end of the marina and Bryce scrambled down, holding tight to her hand, pulling her toward the dock and the row of sunfish.
“Hold on there, sailor,” Miles said. “Come on over here and see a special boat.”
“Seriously?” Molly smothered a laugh.
“What?”
Bryce was oblivious, eagerly keeping up with Miles. “You sound like a script for stranger danger,” she said, keeping her voice low enough that Bryce wouldn’t overhear. “There better not be a van full of puppies to lure us to our doom,” Molly warned.
“What’s doom?” Bryce asked.
“When your mom gets super mad,” Miles supplied.
He grinned and her knees turned to jelly. Was he flirting with her?
“Oh, that’s bad.” Bryce’s reply carried a wisdom far beyond his years. He grabbed Molly’s hand. “No doom.”
She swiped her hand across her heart. “I promise.”
He giggled, the sound so sweet she wanted to cling to it forever. Then he squealed and she wanted to do the same. Except Bryce was bouncing around, giddy on a second wind and Molly wanted to run back to the festival. “Miles,” she breathed. “That… That’s…”
“A boat, Momma!”
“Yes, it is,” she agreed.
Under the bright lights on the end of the building the long, shallow-draft boat rested on a trailer, the size no less intimidating on land. This vessel was so much bigger than the sailboards and sunfish Miles used in his sailing lessons. The mast was upright and just the idea of the size of the sail that would be required overwhelmed her.
“It’s an e-scow,” Miles was explaining to Bryce, who was back in his arms. “It has a big sail.”
“The main?”
“That’s right,” Miles confirmed with a smile. “And a smaller sail. The jib,” they said together. “Plus a spinnaker. When that’s out, the boat really flies, skimming over the water.” He gestured with his hands.
Bryce was practicing the new word as Miles turned toward her. “Can I take him aboard?”
Molly nodded, not trusting her voice.
Up on the boat, Bryce chattered a mile-a-minute and Miles patiently answered every question as they walked from bow to stern and back to the ladder.
Bryce scampered back to her side, delighted with the new adventure. “He’s fixing it, Mommy! So he can go on adventures.”
