Page 49

Thirty-Seven

Stella

We walk back to the boat in a dreamy haze. Huck drapes an arm over my shoulder and we weave our fingers together.

“Do you know what your next book is going to be?” I ask.

When he doesn’t answer, I peer up at him. He has a playful expression on his face.

“You better not write about the pool,” I say, and bump him with my shoulder.

“I would never.” He smiles at me, a real smile, with crinkly eyes. “They get it on in a salt marsh and get stung by jellyfish.”

“Cute.”

“Adorable,” he says and plants a kiss on my hair. “Actually, I was thinking about turning our search for the San Miguel into a hunt for Blackbeard’s treasure—but I don’t know.”

“No way,” I say. “Teddy and I are obsessed with Blackbeard. We’ve done so much research over the years.

All our material is back in North Carolina, but you’re welcome to use it.

You know, that first summer when we met, we found a Piece of Eight and we were convinced that it was part of a larger buried treasure belonging to Blackbeard on Corolla beach. ”

“It’s not on your map?”

I shake my head. “No. Or maybe it is and I just haven’t figured out the code. But the map is only Florida and some of the Caribbean.”

“How’d you end up in Iceland searching for Gunnarsson’s treasure, then?”

“I like to do my own research too. I guess I don’t really know how to do anything other than search. I can’t even take a real vacation.”

“Me either.”

“Seriously?”

“I was either on tour or doing research. I went to Amsterdam and spent the whole time scribbling in a notebook.”

“Okay, well, if you could go somewhere, just to go—where would it be?”

“Bali maybe? No, wait—I know. But it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“I love embarrassing. Go.”

“I’d like to go to Switzerland.”

“I’m not getting how that’s embarrassing,” I say. “That seems very legit. Are you planning on some kind of Sound of Music tour or something? Do you want to wear lederhosen?”

“I want to see Iseltwald. It’s where part of Crash Landing on You was filmed.”

I stop walking and turn to him. “You watch K-dramas?”

“Some of them have phenomenal storytelling. Sometimes when I would get in my head about Casablanca and wasn’t sure about how Clark and Rebecca would be, I’d watch a few episodes and bam, inspiration would hit.”

“I’ll admit Crash Landing was a really good show. Zoe and I cried our eyes out.”

“When was that? I can’t really picture her binge-watching something on Netflix.”

“It was a while ago. She and I don’t hang out the way we used to. She’s either busy with work or Gus.”

“Do you miss that?”

“It’s fine, just different. We’re all growing up. That’s how it works, right?”

“I guess. A reviewer said that Fortune Files was the most mature thing I’d written.”

I nod. I could see that. There was something different about the newest book, a quality that had nothing to do with me or the plot. It felt more authentic, maybe.

“I guess if I’m being honest,” I say, “I sometimes feel a little left behind. Everyone’s moving forward. Zoe’s making partner and Gus is getting tenure and they’ll probably get married. I’m still eating microwave dinners.”

“You’re fancier than me. I eat cereal dry and love peanut butter and jelly. I also put jelly on pizza since someone taught me that it was delicious.”

“Oh really? Well, I can’t afford jam. I can barely pay the rent for my shitty apartment.”

“Isn’t that changing too?” Huck asks. “I don’t know how much what we found is worth, but it seems like it could definitely help you with the paycheck situation.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think there’s more? The Elephant’s Heart? I know it’s really important to you.”

I nod. He pays attention to the things I tell him, even the things I don’t fully say.

“To be honest, I’ve imagined what it would be like to find the Heart so many times.

My dad was so obsessed. He’d tell me stories about it when I was a kid, and he dedicated everything to it.

It became the most important thing in his life.

I guess I always thought that if I found it, I’d show him that I did what he and my mom couldn’t do.

It would force them to see that even though they didn’t think I was worth sticking around for, they were wrong. ”

Huck stops walking. “They were wrong. They must know that, whether you find the Heart or not.”

“Maybe.” I lean into him. “I only know I really hope we find it. It should be there…the Heart and more. So much more if all of the Stolen Treasure was on the ship.”

“But like, how much? Enough to fund a charity for a year, or like enough to do something really gross like buy an island and name it something obnoxious like Hulla…?”

“Hulla?”

“Yeah, it’s our couple name. The other combination is Stuck, which doesn’t have the same vibe, for an island at least, unless we were going for a creepy-island vibe.

Which, you know, I could be down. Maybe I’ll switch genres and write horror.

I might finally make it on the bookshelf at the cabin in Iceland.

But first, I just want to know what amount of treasure we’re talking about. ”

“I don’t know if it’s island money. Good thing, because those names are terrible. Anyway, the diamond’s out there…it’s just a matter of finding it.”

“Well, we both know how good you are at finding things. You’re also talented at climbing fences. That was new, and very much appreciated.”

“You looked up my dress, didn’t you?”

“I wish I could say I was a gentleman.”

“That’s a good line. You should use it in your next book.”

“Really?”

“Definitely. It goes with the pirate theme you mentioned. And if anyone gives you a hard time about it—”

“I can just tell them that the Lucky Malone said to kindly fuck off?” The deck lights are lit on the Lucky Strike in the harbor and faint music emanates across the water toward the lane where Huck and I stand. I’m not ready to go back, not yet. Our friends will have questions.

“Ready to face the music?” Huck asks, reading my thoughts.

I shake my head. “I don’t want to.”

“Me either. I’m good right here.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really happy. What about you?”

“I’m happy too. Ask me another question,” I tell him.

“What’s the memory you hold closest in your heart? The one you treasure?”

I think back to the Northern Lights on the beach after finding Gunnarsson’s treasure.

The first time my mom showed me the map.

My father’s bedtime stories about the Heart.

My Piece of Eight necklace on my eighth birthday.

When Teddy and Zoe and Gus invited me to join them in Corolla.

The first time I read the Casablanca Chronicles. Finding gold today with Huck.

I think of the moment we met in that bar.

“There’s too many to choose,” I admit. “What about you?”

He takes my hand. “Can I show you?”

We stroll back to the boat and wait nearby until the music stops and the lights go off, and our friends filter off to their rooms to sleep. Then we sneak back to Huck’s bunk.

“Was this a ploy to get me alone in your room?” I ask him.

“I mean, the thought had crossed my mind,” he says, grinning at me, “but actually I wanted to give you something.”

I raise an eyebrow. His room is tidy and spartan. His laptop and papers are set on a small table. His bunk is made neatly, with tightly tucked hospital corners. I sit on it while he pulls something out of his messenger bag.

“My most treasured memory was meeting you in Iceland. I’d gone to the Westman Islands that day, and we’d talked about the sheep? I had this. I meant to give it to you.” He lifts his hand to show me the small sheep figurine.

My insides feel like cotton candy, sweet particles turning to clouds, spinning and spooling within me. He sets the sheep in my palm and sits next to me.

I stare at it for a moment. It’s small and precious, made of tiny twigs and real wool that’s soft against my skin.

“When we met, I was convinced the universe had sent me exactly what I needed. I knew my life would never be the same, and it isn’t. To this day, it’s still the best thing that’s ever happened…meeting you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Really?” I say, smoothing a finger over the sheep and setting it down on the trunk next to his bed.

“I was lost there, you know, utterly lost. And you found me.”

I smile. “I am very good at finding lost things.”

He leans down and kisses my neck gently, his hands finding the zipper of my dress. I hope we’re going to finish what we started at the pool.

“We have to be quiet,” I whisper.

Huck’s fingertips trace over the bare skin of my back. “Whatever you want,” he says. Together, we lay back, losing ourselves in the memories of what we once were, of what we could be again.

We lose and find each other over and over in the darkness of night until the sun crests over the horizon and I sneak back to my bunk.