Page 82 of Enemies to Lobsters
The sun is going down when I walk back to my truck to go find her. The evening air is still and unseasonably warm, like it’s making up for what it did to us last night. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, grinning when I see the contact photo on the screen. I love that picture of Diana spooning her laptop. What a weirdo.
“Hey, beautiful,” I answer, my voice dripping with affection. I should dial it back, but no. That’s not happening. “Where are you?”
"I’m in your house.” She’s a little too happy to tell me this.
“You’reinmy house?” I forgot I even had a house.
“Yeah. Your mom gave me a key.” Her tone is impatient. “Come home.”
Come home. Those words in her sweet voice light a fire under my feet. “On my way.”
Less than ten minutes later, I’m pushing through my front door. As fun as it is living on a tidal island, I’ve missed my house with its brick walkway strewn with red maple leaves, king-sized bed, and total absence of lobsters.
Speaking of, we need to get back to the island to feed Tom Shelleck. Diana can’t know how much I dislike having a lobster stare at me while I eat my dinner, but I love her, and she loves Tom, so Tom stays—unless the storm freed him. I’m crossing my fingers for that.
“Di?” I call, hanging my keys on the hook by the door like I’ve done hundreds of times, except this time there's a gorgeous woman waiting for me.
“In here,” she answers from the direction of the dining room.
I like this life—working until I’m tired and coming home at the end of the day to Diana’s face. It’s simple, but perfect.
Then I see her, sitting at my table with a few boxes of Marlow’s take-out and a laptop. There’s soft music in the air that must be coming from her computer.
“Are you hungry? I got us some dinner. Marlow’s was swamped tonight, so it was whatever they had left, which turned out to be a couple of bowls of potato chowder and her special grilled cheese. I hope that’s okay.” Diana chatters like this when she’s anxious. She also rubs her hands on her legs, which she is doing now while my eyes roam over her. She bites her lip. “Say something. You’re making me nervous.”
“What are you working on?” I nod to her computer.
She pivots the screen. There’s a spreadsheet pulled up with a timeline, cost projections, and a bunch of stuff I won’t take the time to read. “It’s an updated plan for the lighthouse.”
“You work fast.” It isn’t a false compliment. I don’t know how she did this in one day. “Do you know what needs to be done? With the lighthouse, I mean.” The storm left such a mess on the island, I’ve avoided the thought of it all day. It’s too much to process along with the damage to Cape Georgeana.
She nods, calm now that she’s in problem-solving mode. This is where she shines. “I walked over there this afternoon while the tide was out. Grabbed my laptop and took some notes.” She shrugs. “We’ll need to rip up the floors and redo the drywall. Repaint.” She’s smiling like she’s looking forward to the work. “It’s a lot, but I visited my grandparents today. I told them that I’m staying in town and that you and I are—you know. They were so happy, they won’t notice the fresh pile of invoices.”
I laugh at that. I love the joy she radiates when she has the light of a spreadsheet in her eyes, and she's solving a problem. “I could use you on the town board,” I mention offhandedly, thinking about the mountain of work ahead of me.
“I have to agree,” she says with a half smile.
I take a seat beside her at the table. The weight on my shoulders is lighter when I’m with her. “I needed you today.”
“Yeah?”
I sigh. “There’s a lot to work through with the storm clean-up. We’ll get it done, it’s just—”
She moves my hand away from my shoulder, taking over where I didn’t realize I’d been kneading the aching knot. “Ike.”
I close my eyes, leaning into her touch. “Hmm?”
“I’m going to help you.”
“You have enough to do. I can—”
“Ike.” She means business now.
My eyes pop open.
She smiles, shaking her head like she doesn’t know what to do with me. “Let me help you carry your world, Atlas.” She dragsher fingers across my shoulder. “You’ve carried it alone long enough.”
She knows exactly what to do with me. I exhale, taking her in. “I am so in love with you.”
