Page 42 of Sea La Vie (The Outer Banks #1)

Lainey

“ I ’ll get it,” I say and rush from my dad’s kitchen to the heavy oak front door. I swing it open and blink in shock.

“Surprise,” Tate says at the same time a woman I would recognize anywhere says, “Happy Birthday!” She smiles and immediately dives in for a hug.

“Cara!” I exclaim, pulling back from our hug to study her face. “How have you not changed a bit since you were six years old?”

“Botox, baby.” Cara flips the hair off her shoulder and winks.

“Come in, come in,” I say. “Gosh, it’s so good to see you!”

“I hope it’s okay I crashed your family’s breakfast. When Tate told me he was buying the cottage, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the fun we used to have as kids. He told me he had it all fixed up, and I had to see it for myself.”

“I’m so glad you came,” I say. “Did you just get in?”

Cara nods. “My plane landed in Raleigh this morning at six.”

“Heaven forbid she catches a later flight,” Tate mutters.

Cara rolls her eyes. “He was always grouchy when he didn’t get enough sleep. Some things never change.”

I motion for Cara and Tate to follow me to the dining room and snag a step ladder from the closet on the way. Tate nods at the step ladder and gives me a questioning look. “What’s with that?”

“Full house,” I explain. “We’re out of chairs.”

Cara makes small talk with the family for a few moments before we all gather around the table. Dad is beaming at the head of the table, light practically radiating from his rare, albeit proud, smile. I’m momentarily taken aback when I notice the spot next to him is empty. “Where’s Huck?”

“He ran to the diner for more pancake mix. He’ll be back any minute,” Dad says.

I survey the table set in front of us, plastic dixie cups full of orange juice, mismatched silverware, and paper plates piled high with steaming, buttery pancakes, sausage, and crispy bacon, and I wonder how in the world we could possibly need more, when the squeak of the front door announces Huck’s arrival.

He takes a seat beside dad and does a double take when he sees Cara.

“Cara,” he says. “Hey.” He gives an awkward little wave and coughs into his balled up fist. If I’m not mistaken, the blush creeping up his neck is something new, almost as rare as Dad’s smile. Huck is always calm, cool, and collected—never stressed—and always level headed.

Cara gives a wave and a warm smile back.

Seeing Huck glance out the corner of his eye toward Cara every few seconds would be shocking if it weren’t for Cara’s icy blue eyes and medium length blonde hair pulled up into an effortlessly chic claw clip.

She’s truly stunning, even in a pair of leggings and an oversized T-shirt, and it looks like Huck has noticed, too.

Dad clears his throat, his smile still radiant behind all that bushy facial hair.

“I wanted to let you all know, Dr. Maverick gave me the green light to ‘resume life as normal.’” He puts air quotes around the last words.

“My heart is as good as new.” Everyone smiles, and congratulations are tossed around the room like a balloon losing air until finally, it’s quiet again.

“I also wanted to let you all know that thanks to Lainey here, I’m finally able to retire.

” His eyes cut toward me when he says, “Thank you, Lainey. I’d still give anything to turn back time and not allow you to go out there for that fishing tournament, but the check came this morning. Turns out you won after all.”

“What,” I mutter. “There must be a mis—”

Dad waves his hand and cuts me off. “It’s enough to cover the debts we owed and more.”

“But I didn’t—” my voice trails off in the busy hive of chatter around the dining room.

“Way to go, Lain!” Huck says. I even catch Henry and Eden share a quick smile. What is happening?

I glance up at Tate and he shrugs. “I didn’t win,” I whisper to Tate.

“There’s no way. We didn’t make it back in time.

And even if we had, Paul’s catch was way bigger than—” The words catch in my throat before I can finish.

Did Paul do this? Dad breaks my train of thought by sliding a stack of pancakes in front of me, and I dig in, my mind elsewhere.

We finish breakfast, and I’m still in a haze when I’ve cleared the last plate. Everyone’s gone except Dad. Huck went off to the diner, Eden went to Mugs and Memos, and Tate is showing Cara around the town—even though not much has changed since she was here last. It’s just me and Dad.

“I’m proud of you, kid,” he says. “Don’t get me wrong, what you did put me through hell.

I thought I would never have to go through that again.

But you are so brave and smart, and so much like your mother.

” He gathers me into his big arms, and my face rests in his chest. I breathe the earthy pine scent he’s scrubbed himself with for as long as I can remember to wash away any trace of fish that may linger.

When he releases me, he looks into my face. “You look just like her.”

“You think?” I ask, my voice wobbly.

“I know,” he says. “You’re headstrong and determined, too. Just like her. So much so that I think we need to have a little chat.” He pulls out a chair then motions for me to sit. When he does the same, he sighs. “Your mother was never happy fishing with me.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Yes, she was,” I counter. “She loved spending her days with you out on the water.”

“She didn’t mind it,” he corrects. “But she didn’t love it. And I will never forgive myself for not recognizing that until it was too late. She had so much potential to do whatever she wanted, and she wasted it all on me and my dreams of running this fishing business.”

I frown, my eyebrows a mirror of dad’s that are drawn together in a deep V.

“I don’t want you to do what she did, Lainey,” he says softly. “You’ve spent too much time helping everyone but yourself. I think it’s time you do what you want to do.”

“I don’t mind helping you,” I say. “Or Huck, or anyone else, really.”

“You don’t mind it, but you don’t love it,” Dad says.

“What would I do?” I ask. “This town is so tiny, there’s really no place I can imagine working that I haven’t already.”

Dad’s eyes sparkle, and another smile slips out from behind his beard. “You’ll figure it out, just like you’ll figure out how to say ‘no’. Try it with me…”

“Nnnoo…thank you,” I spit out.

“Close enough,” Dad laughs with a shrug.

“I can’t believe you’re finally retiring,” I murmur.

“I can’t believe you’re twenty-eight years old. You were just three, bouncing on my knee, begging for me to take you fishing.” I smile, broken flashbacks passing through my mind like a slideshow.

“I’m ready to retire. Four generations of this fishing business was more than enough.

I think we’ve made my great-grandparents very proud.

” He squeezes my shoulder, then lets his hand drop to his knee with a loud smack.

“I better get to the living room. The game isn’t going to watch itself after all. ”

I smile and shake my head, never knowing my father to be a football fan in all the time I’ve been alive. As if he can read my mind, he says, “I’ve got all the time in the world now to try all these hobbies on for size, you know? See what fits me best. Tomorrow, I’m quilting with Lucille.”

My eyes bug out of my head, trying to picture my large, stocky, mostly grumpy father with a teeny tiny needle poised between his rough thumb and forefinger.

He stands and shuffles to the living room, flicking the light out on the way.

After he passes through the doorway, he turns over his shoulder. “Did you see the paper today?”

“No,” I say. “Why?” I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve read the paper since I was thirteen and desperate for a dog, and even then it was only the Morehead City Humane Society’s ad, not the entire paper.

I’ll never forget tearing out the ad and drawing hearts and circles all over Midge.

I slid it into Dad’s line of vision every chance I got, under his pillow, in the fridge, next to the coffee pot.

In fact, the last time I read the paper, I found the fishing competition. So no, I haven’t picked one up lately.

“Paul, you know, from A-Fish-Ionado , died a few nights ago. His obituary said he had suffered quietly from lung cancer for a while.”

I gasp. “You’re kidding me.”

“Wish I was,” he replies. “I developed a bit of a soft spot for him after he saved you. I called him up last week and thanked him, and we chatted for a while. Turns out he wasn’t so bad.”

Realization settles over me like an old quilt spread onto the grass on a warm summer day.

Paul donated that money to us. Paul, our arch nemesis for as long as I can remember, who saved my life no less, is the reason Dad can finally retire and I don’t have to worry about his safety on the water anymore.

I open my mouth to let dad know this revelation when I think better of it and snap it shut.

I flash back to that morning on the boat, where he said my parents were proud of me, and it’s the only memory I have of his soft side peeking through.

If he donated anonymously, he obviously didn’t want us to know. This can be our little secret.

“That’s terrible,” I murmur instead. Dad nods in agreement, then continues shuffling toward the television.

I poke my head in a minute after he’s settled.

“You know, you might have to upgrade your TV, if this football hobby becomes serious.” The tiny box’s TV screen crackles in the corner and dad waves his hand.

“There won’t be enough room for one when my new sewing machine comes in. ”

I giggle, unsure if he’s joking or not. This side of my dad is nice.

He’s been the best dad—performing the role of two parents for years—but he’s always had a dullness to his eyes, a lack of any emotion other than the bare minimum needed to raise three kids.

Even all those times cooking together and dancing around the kitchen when I was a kid, his shoulders were a little high, his smiles tight.

Seeing this carefree side of him makes my heart swell.

“The Coast Guard found Sea La Vie, too,” Dad says gently. “They’re bringing her back sometime tomorrow.”

Relief floods my veins, the thought of that little fishing boat with so many memories stored in her floating around the Atlantic was too much to bear.

I step into the late morning sun, letting it warm my bones from the frigid air conditioning inside. “Lainey! Hey, Lainey!” I turn around and find Annabelle from the general store walking toward me, the heels of her clogs smacking against the pavement.

“Good morning,” I offer a wave and turn in the other direction.

“Lainey, I’m so glad I found you! Do you think you could help me this morning? Our freezer went out again.”

“You know, Annabelle, I actually can’t this morning.

” I wait for the scolding, the harsh reprimanding of my terrible excuse as a contribution to this community.

Instead, Annabelle smiles and says, “No worries, hun. Enjoy your weekend.” She strolls past me, whistling as she goes, and leaving me shocked that the world hasn’t ended.

The liberation that fills my chest is consuming.

I feel unstoppable. I feel like I could kick a door down.

“Lainey!”

“No, thank you,” I holler over my shoulder, not even bothering to see who it is.

“Ouch.” Tate’s voice grows louder, mingled with Cara’s laughter as they near. I turn around, my cheeks red.

“Oh, sorry,” I bluster. “I was trying something new.” Tate arches an eyebrow, and a smirk spreads across his face. “What’s up?” I ask glancing between them.

“Do you have a minute?” Tate asks. “Or actually, like a couple hours? I want to show you something.”