Page 5 of The Hitchhiker in Panama
“Hmm, a beautiful woman in need of some help?” His accent was soft and lilting, and my brain skipped for a moment on his words.
I glanced down at myself, at my chest sticky with sweat and starting to turn pink from too much sun, at the grit sticking to my skin, at the big splotch of oil streaked onto one boob. I looked around, just to be sure.
“Me?”
He laughed, tossing his head back. “Yes, a beautiful woman in need of some help. I am most definitely here for it.” He dropped to his knees beside me and leaned in to inspect the hose clamp. “What have we here?”
I watched him, struggling with the desire to be the adventurous, independent Lila versus the Lila who wanted help, all while appreciating—in multiple ways—the bicep curled next to me.
He braced both ends against the dock and nodded at me. “Try it now.”
Self-doubt won over and I tried to hand him the screwdriver. “You should do it. You’re stronger.”
“I have faith in you. Come on. Show it who is the boss.” He winked.
I notched the screwdriver back into the head of the screw. While my assistant held the connector and hose with both hands, I bent over and twisted the tool with all of my strength.
“Almost,” he encouraged.
Finally it gave, rust crackling away from the clamp. “Yes!” I shouted, throwing my hands up in the air, and he laughed with me. We both sat back and I grabbed the hem of my tank top and wiped the sweat off my face. When I looked back up, his eyes snapped from my midsection to my face.
“Thank you so much for your help.”
“You are welcome.” He offered me his hand. “Eivind.”
“Lila.” We shook.
“Well, Lila, now that I have done my knightly duties, I must move on.” He mock saluted and winked. “I hope to see you again soon.”
As he departed, Eivind glanced over his shoulder and busted me watching him. I blushed and gathered up the parts. But not even the prospect of helping Peter rebuild the pump could wipe the grin off my face.
Three
Edith and I were preparing to walk the docks again that evening, still hoping to find me a boat. She had returned from the trip into town and found me deep in the bilge, holding the pump and hose together while Peter tried to reconnect everything. Tools were strewn all over the boat, storage lockers emptied out, and both Peter and I were drenched in sweat. Edith had shooed me out of the boat, and as I walked down the dock to the pool, the sound of her scolding Peter faded.
I secretly hoped we would run into Eivind again, especially now that I was clean and feeling more deserving of flirting with a hot guy.
As if by fate, Edith pointed and said, “Oh, this one might be right for you. They’re around your age, take on crew, and it’s a beautiful boat.”
My eyes roamed over the boat as we walked down the dock.Eikwas written on the bow, and she was beautiful. The deck was open and uncluttered, and the stainless steel shone (something I’d learned takes an inordinate amount of time to polish). Instead of the rough nonskid fiberglass that some boats had,Eik’sdeck was striped brown with thin black lines. The middle of the deck, like most boats, bulged up to accommodate the cabin, butEikwas low and sleek.
Edith knocked on the boat. “Jonas! Eivind!”
I perked up, and delightful bubbles of anticipation hit my stomach.
Eivind climbed out of the boat first, and he was ready with a smile for Edith, but his grin lit up even more when he saw me. “Ah, Lila, I knew you could not stay away,” he crowed.
“Oh, you’ve met?” Edith nudged me playfully.
“Come in, come in. It is just Jonas and me here right now. The girls are at the pool.”
The whos are in the what now?Those playful bubbles popped with a sour taste.
I followed behind Edith as we climbed intoEik’s cockpit and I hid my disappointment over a potential girlfriend. Another man climbed up out of the boat, obviously related to Eivind: they had the same strong jawline, fair skin, and bright blue eyes. Where Eivind was stacked with drool-inducing muscles, Jonas was taller and leaner. When I repeated his name back—Yonas—he clarified that it was spelled with a J. His hair was long and curled around the edges, a contrast to Eivind’s close-cropped blond cut.
“How did your project turn out?” Eivind asked me as we settled into the bench seats around the cockpit.
“That was the end of my hard work, thankfully. Peter got the pump back in working order, and I suspect I didn’t have a whole lot to do with it.”
