Page 14 of As a Last Resort

AUSTIN

Patrick and the crew were cleaning on our lunch break, picking up evidence of a business busting at the seams. The ferry overflowed with people on every run in and out.

Water bottles scattered the floor and candy wrappers stuck to the cushions.

There was even a kid’s sock stuffed in the bilge.

What I should have been thinking about was trying to figure out a way to meet the increased demand for the island.

But I wasn’t.

I tried to ignore Sam when she walked down my dock earlier this morning.

She wasn’t a cute, innocent, chubby-faced thirteen-year-old any longer.

I didn’t have time to be paying attention to the way her dress shifted when she bent over the railing trying to find cell service.

I didn’t have time for eyes like hers. They were black holes, so intense they just sucked everything in the vicinity toward them.

She was the kind of trouble I didn’t need to get myself wrapped up in.

I got the occasional proposition from the fearless leader of a weekend warrior girl trip looking for some local fun for a day or two, but it wasn’t my style.

With a woman like Samantha Leigh, though, the day they decide they want to walk out, they don’t just break your heart: they turn it into dust and sprinkle it on their pancakes the next morning.

They leave behind a kind of destruction weathermen haven’t come up with a name for yet.

Besides, the fact she held the former title of Lexi’s best friend meant drama. Those two were inseparable for years. I didn’t need to muddy that water. I needed to steer clear of her for Lexi’s sake. And my own sanity.

“You done anything interesting lately?” Patrick asked as he tied up the last trash bag and threw it on the dock.

“No.”

“Okay, okay.” He paused for a few seconds. “You see anyone interesting lately?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, okay.” He paused for a little longer this time. “You don’t wanna talk about it, I get it.”

“Nothing to talk about.”

He paused so long I looked up to a shit-eating grin spread wide across his face. “You think she’s pretty, don’t you?”

“Who?”

“Don’t you be playing dumb with me. I saw you chitchatting with Sam this morning.”

I ignored his comment and kept my head down, working.

“You’ve tied that knot twice already.”

I glared at him. I had only seen her two times, but Sam was on a loop in my head since she’d set foot on the island.

Patrick’s questioning was bringing her front and center.

Not like she wasn’t there already anyway.

But I knew the high-maintenance, secret-keeping, heels-wearing, clickety-click kind of girl wasn’t my thing.

Vanessa was a clickety-click girl and nothing good came of that.

He started singing under his breath. “Austin and Sam, sitting in a tree…”

“You’re about to get your ass thrown off this boat.”

“Alright, alright, I surrender. No more you-know-who talk. But just ’cause I stop talking about her doesn’t mean that’s going to help get your mind off her, Capt’n. You know that ain’t how it works.”

“You mop that deck yet?”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you.” He picked up the bucket, but made one more quick turnaround to face me. “One more thing though, I’m glad to see you a little riled up. It’s about time. And stop thinking it’s such a bad thing. They don’t all leave you gasping for air in a bad way, you hear me?”

I ignored him and walked to the bow of the boat, hoping he’d get the hint to leave it alone.

“What’d you think of that two-hundred passenger?” he called out as he followed me. I told him I hadn’t made it out yet to see it. The owner gave me first dibs on it and said I had until midweek to get up there.

“Why don’t you go today? I can man the rest of the day.”

“I can’t today. I’ve got something to pick up.”

“Where you goin’?” He narrowed his eyes on me.

“You’re full of questions today, aren’t you?”

“Just curious what’s more important than a two-hundred passenger.” He had that tone that told me he knew exactly what was more important than a two-hundred passenger.

“Josie’s internet is spotty at the hotel. I’m picking up a booster for her.”

“Well, look at you, a modern-day knight in tech armor.”

“I’m just helping her out.”

“Helping Josie out?” he asked. “Or helping Sam out?”

“Don’t even start.”

I was just doing what any nephew would do if his aunt needed his help.

The water was smooth like glass for the rest of the day.

Watching guests during the sunset run on the last ferry was always the highlight of my day.

The sun setting in the background over the water could make anyone feel like you happened to stumble upon something amazing that wasn’t meant for you.

You were just lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time.

It typically turned the water a blend of orange and pink and every single passenger would inevitably head to the stern of the boat to pull out their phone and take their new profile pic against the sherbet of my hometown sky.

“Ethel, you just jut your neck forward. It’s not rocket science. Turtle, like this.”

I watched out of the corner of my eye as a group of three little old ladies argued, one trying to teach the others how to “turtle” for a picture, which apparently involved doing something that looked painful with your neck.

“Here, watch me,” the lady barked again.

“Oh, Gail, stop it,” said another lady with a short silver bob. “I don’t think turkeying is going to hide any of this flapping off our necks.”

“It’s called turtling . Just try it,” Gail said. “I read it on the Google last week and I swear the difference in pictures is amazing. Here, let me help you,” she shouted to the oldest lady of the group, who I assumed was Ethel, as she gripped her head and pulled it toward her.

“You leave her alone, Gail.” Silver Bob Lady swatted at her arm. “You’re about to tear her head clear off her neck and she can’t hear you anyway. She has no idea what you’re doing.”

Gail let go and placed her hands on her hips. “Well, you’re both going to look like old hags in the picture.”

Silver Bob Lady leaned over to Ethel and shouted in her ear. “Has anyone told her we are old hags?”

Ethel took out a tiny silver flask and took a hefty swig.

Well then.

Gail took her assertive posture and turned it in my direction. “Captain Handsome! Can you please come take a picture of the three of us?”

“It would be my pleasure, ladies.”

“Ohh! I thought that was him from Tripadvisor!” Silver Bob Lady swooned. “We’ve read all about you.”

This happened about once a week. A guest nicknamed me Captain Handsome on a review after a particularly flattering shirtless picture of me pulling up the anchor was posted and it caught on like wildfire.

“You’re on our bucket list.” Gail beamed from ear to ear.

“And so is Usain,” Silver Bob Lady piped in. “We were hoping to get Ethel here to dance with him.”

“Her husband was a ballroom dancer,” Gail said. “They took Senior IV titles back-to-back for five straight years. No one could touch them.”

Ethel’s eyes sparkled. “Love me a good dancer.”

“Well, I’ll be happy to take over his first mate duties so he can make his stellar dancing abilities available to you ladies.”

“Is he married?” Ethel asked.

I coughed. “Nope, he’s as single as they come.”

“Well, I can’t help what happens when my feet start moving. I don’t want some whippersnapper falling in love. I don’t have the energy to keep up with these young ones anymore.”

I’m pretty sure she was serious. She also had to be seventy years old.

“Are you married?” Ethel asked.

“No, ma’am.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

I paused. I typically skirted relationship questions from strangers.

Hell, I skirted them from folks I knew too.

People were just busybodies with too much time on their hands meddling in my business.

But for some reason, these ladies seemed harmless so I gave them the real answer. “The right woman.”

Gail interjected, “Well, at least he’s got a good reason.”

Silver Bob Lady snorted. “Oh please, the right one may or may not come along. Live a little in the meantime, Captain Handsome.”

“You leave him alone, Shirley,” Gail said. “He’s too young for you. And he doesn’t need to be spreading his seed to the whole island either.”

“Age is just a number,” Shirley with the silver bob protested. “I have a young soul.”

“You may, but pretty sure your soil’s as dry as desert dust.”

That one got a chuckle out of me.

“Well, I wouldn’t argue with you there,” Shirley laughed as she grabbed the flask from Ethel and took a swig, draining it. “We’re out! I’m going to fill up from our reserve.” Shirley and Gail walked over to their bags and pulled out a bottle of Wild Turkey.

I turned to Ethel. “Where are you ladies visiting from?”

“New Hampshire. Ever been?” Ethel asked.

“No, ma’am. Have pretty much stayed here in Florida my whole life.”

“We’re taking a very much needed girls’ trip. We should have done this in our twenties, our forties, hell our sixties, but we always found excuses not to.”

“This one’s single for the first time in a decade,” Shirley walked over, pointing to Gail with her now full flask of bourbon.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I responded, assuming her husband passed away.

“Oh, please,” Gail replied. “It’s not like he’s dead or anything. He just moved to Kansas to become a farmer. Developed a weird thing about goats. I was fixing to get rid of that one for years anyway.”

Ethel leaned over to me and lowered her voice.

“Pay her no mind. That was her fifth husband. And he always had a thing about goats, she just ignored it. Nothing worse than being in a relationship that’s not right, convincing yourself it’s better than being alone.

” She looked back out at the horizon. “You know, this is the first time I’m looking at a body of water I can’t see the other side of. Makes you feel small, doesn’t it?”

I nodded as she turned her eyes on me.

“If you’ve got other things on that bucket list besides driving this boat,” she continued, “don’t wait until you’re over seventy like me to start checking them off. This was worth seeing decades ago.”

Yeah, I had a bucket list.

When we were kids, Patrick, Tom, and I talked about building houses next to each other.

Then we decided we’d just live in the same house—but make it a big one.

Three stories tall. I’d captain our fishing charter, Patrick would be first mate and entertain the guests, and Tom would run marketing.

He could sell ice to an Alaskan. We’d take over the island, three brothers separated at birth.

My mind still drifts back to that sometimes.

Life as it was supposed to be. The three amigos, instead of two.

And a life with Vanessa. If I’d seen the signs earlier—the subtle looks, the lingering stares.

If I didn’t care so much about being around the damn water.

If Vanessa didn’t hate Florida. If I had told her I’d move before everything fell apart.

If Tom had a shred of decency and said no instead of yes.

Sometimes life tips the bucket list over and dumps it all on your head, leaving you standing there soaked in all the things that didn’t go as planned.

My bucket list had the usual—white picket fence, two kids, a Labrador, and a happy wife.

What it didn’t have was a best friend—the guy who taught me how to play checkers and who had a toothbrush at my house—slipping into my fiancée’s heart. And bed.

My bucket list didn’t include losing two of my best friends in one shot.

Gail thrust her camera into my chest. “You know how to use this, Captain? It’s not one of those fancy schmancy phone cameras. It has a button. You gotta push down.”

She shuffled the ladies together by the edge of the railing. “Now, make sure you get a good view of the sunset behind us.”

I nodded and smiled.

“Remember to turtle, girls!” Gail reminded them.

“Say, Captain Handsome!” Shirley called out.

“CAPTAIN HANDSOME!” they all sang in unison with their hands raised.

Normally that name irked me, but a grin crept across my face as I snapped a few photos of them.

“I’ll see if I can wrangle Usain for you ladies before the end of our trip. Sit down, relax, and enjoy the rest of the ride over.”

I filled Patrick in and pointed out his fan club. Attention from little old ladies was like catnip for him. On my way back around I caught Gail in a moment by herself silently staring out onto the horizon, watching the last bit of sun sneak underneath the waterline.

“I’m used to New Hampshire sunsets. This is something else.”

“You’ll have more of these while you’re here,” I promised. “But in all the years I’ve called Rock Island home, I’ve never seen the same one twice.”

Everyone’s seen a sunset, but not everyone’s seen a Florida sunset.

I filled her in on the best of the island, including the lobster roll at Charley’s and the sunset view at Harpoon’s. “Captain Harold runs the inshore fishing charters out here too if you have the yearning to catch a fish or two. He’ll even fillet it up for dinner on the boat.”

Just then, Justin Timberlake’s voice burst through the speakers above us. Ethel’s eyes went wide as she spotted Patrick doing his famous shuffle-shuffle-wiggle toward her to “Can’t Stop the Feeling!” from the front of the boat. He made his way over and bowed to her.

“I heard someone’s in the mood to get down.” He bowed cordially and thrust his hand out. “May I have this dance, madam?”

“Only if you promise not to call me madam again.” Ethel didn’t miss a beat.

I made my way to the helm to take the wheel as Patrick danced Ethel around in a circle, a smile plastered on her face that lit up the whole boat and had all the other guests cheering and whipping out their phones.

Gail took pictures and Shirley danced along, throwing sunshine out of her pocket along with the lyrics.

I’ve known Patrick for twenty years and he’s always had this rare ability to make everyone in the room feel ten feet tall. I looked back to the water and couldn’t help but smile. Today was a good day.