Page 75 of Enemies to Lobsters
The person who is used to saving everyone is going to have to watch from afar while a storm pummels the town he loves. I understand his agitation, but there’s nothing he can do without putting himself at risk. And I’m not having that.
I take his cold hand, smoothing it between mine. “Ike,” I say as calmly as I can, given the torrential rain and rising storm surge happening out the window.
The muscle in his jaw hardens visibly. “Yeah.” A tremor runs through him, either from cold or stress. Maybe both.
“Look at me.”
Finally, his dark gaze finds mine. The tension around his eyes loosens by a fraction.
I tighten my hold on his hand. “You’ve done everything you can for them. We need to focus on staying safe here. Let’s get into some dry clothes and get upstairs.” I squeeze. “Okay?”
He nods, and it turns into a shudder. “Okay.”
A few minutes later, Ike meets me at the upstairs window wearing jeans and a dry flannel. He’s still tense. Every move he makes is sharp and edgy.
“How long has the power been out?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. It went out while I was talking myself into getting into the boat.” I turn, tossing my useless phone onto my bed. I should’ve kept it charging this afternoon. I’m down to seven percent—not that it’s good for anything. I still don’t have any service.
I’ve made a lot of rookie mistakes today. If I had been brave and gotten on that boat neither of us would be stuck here. I drop onto the bed in a huff. “I’m sorry I didn’t get off the island and that you came over here. I feel terrible that you’re trapped, too. I would’ve been okay.” That’s a bald-faced lie. I was disintegratinglike cotton candy in the rain. I’m glad he’s with me, and that might make me an awful person.
He sits beside me, kneading that spot in his shoulder absentmindedly. “I wouldn’t leave you here.”
“I know. I know you, Ike.” I move my hand under his, rubbing the tense muscle for him, working my fingers up to his neck and back. “That’s who you are.”
Ike leans into my touch, letting his chin drop to his chest. The wind and rain roar around the darkened house. After a while he mutters, “I hate not doing anything.”
“You’ve done as much as you can.” I swear the knot in his shoulder tightens under my fingers at my words. I need to get his mind off of this storm. “Why did you keep playing?”
“What?”
“In high school. Why did you keep playing football after you were injured?” Because it’s been almost fifteen years, and he’s still feeling this every day. I’m bothered on his behalf.
“We didn’t have a big bench. It was me or Davie Rouse, and no offense to Davie, but a spaghetti noodle could knock him over.” He chuckles, and I’m glad his mind is off of saving Cape Georgeana for a second. “I wanted to win. My coach, my principal… The whole school wanted it. Our team was good that year. We had a shot at playing past the regular season. So I muscled through it.”
And he’s paying for it years later.
But wait. “Wasn’t your mom the principal? I can’t believe she let you play.”
He laughs. “She wanted a good season more than I did. And have you tried saying ‘no’ to Shelly Wentworth? She gets this look in her eyes—”
“Oh, I’m familiar with the Wentworth sad eyes.”
The corner of his mouth hitches. “I didn’t tell her how bad it was,” he says with a shrug.
I shake my head, letting my hand rest on Ike’s shoulder.
His voice rumbles in the dim room. “What?”
He knows what. I don’t mind telling him, though. “You do so much.” I want to tell him he doestoomuch, but I want him to see it for himself.
He freezes under my hand. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Not when it comes at a cost.” I bump his arm. “You rowed through a nasty storm to get to me, Ike. And if that’s not proof enough, I have two words for you: Muffie’s. Underpants.”
Ike laughs.
“You like to help people, Ike. I love that about you. But sometimes it’s too much. As your wife, I’m not okay with the man I love being this town’s sacrificial lamb. I’m done with it. I’m telling you it needs to stop, or so help me…” I trail off when I realize what I’ve just admitted. I didn’t mean to say them, but the minute the words are hanging in the air, I realize they’re true.
