by Liz Alden
I laughed despite myself.
“You sound very upset, sweet pea. What’s going on?”
I told my parents everything in a huge flood of words. I told them, as best I could, the struggles and hardships of what twenty-six days at sea had been like. Now that I was off the boat, it seemed different. Flattened. Like I’d had huge emotional swings that rocketed around Eik with no way to get out. Now, without the ground swaying beneath me or the wind in my face, all of my feelings rushed out.
It was cathartic.
“I thought the sail was boring?” Mum said.
“It was. Kind of. There’s an old saying Jonas told me, that sailing is boredom with flashes of sheer terror.” I winced, expecting Mum to zero in on the terror like a hawk. Instead she said something that surprised me.
“Tell me about the good parts.”
So I sat back in the chair and told my parents about the endless blue of the ocean, stargazing with Eivind, eating freshly caught fish. I talked about helping to hoist the sails, the feel of the winch handle in my palm and the burn of my muscles as I cranked the sail in.
My parents listened quietly. When I finished, Dad spoke up.
“What about Eivind?”
I told them about our fight, my cheeks burning with embarrassment when I admitted to my parents that their daughter had not, in fact, become a sailor.
“Well, I didn’t expect you to be! It was only a month at sea, really,” Mum said.
“Mum!”
“What? It’s true.”
“Well, it still hurts my feelings.”
“Yes, well, it was rather rude of them to say that. They owe you an apology. I might have to write Jonas a stern letter.”
“They did apologize, and Jonas said I am welcome to stay on the boat. Save your letter-writing for someone else who deserves your wrath.”
“Disappointing.” She tsk-tsked. “So then, the real heart of the matter, do you want to be back on the boat?”
“It’s just . . . I thought getting off the boat would be easier. Life would be easier. But . . .” I looked around the hostel at all these strangers, smoking weed, drinking beer, having loud conversations in nearly a dozen languages. Suddenly it seemed irritating and dull. How could it compete with the wide-open ocean? I closed my eyes and thought of Eivind’s joyful warmth, Jonas’s quiet reserve, the colors of the sea, and the gloss and shine of Eik.
“You feel conflicted?” Dad asked.
I opened my eyes. “Yeah. I do.”
In the silence, my mum sighed, resigned. “She’s in love.”
I didn’t argue. I’d never felt this way about someone before, so perhaps it was love.
“Well, Eik has plans, and Eivind is part of that.”
“Why can’t you stay on the boat?”
My mouth dropped open; I was shocked that my mum would even consider that option.
“I have plans,” I said stubbornly. “Backpacking in South America.”
“Yes, I know about those plans. I’m pretty sure you picked them just to piss me off. Sailing away with Eivind would accomplish the same goal.”
I smiled. “It wasn’t all about pissing you off, Mum.” I picked at the corner of the table in front of me. “I did ask Eivind to come with me.”
A heavy silence fell. “He said no?”
I sighed. “It was more important for him to stay with his brother than to be with me.”
“Ah,” Mum said. “‘Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option.’”
“Something like that. It made me really angry at first, but the more I think about it, the more I can understand it. Eivind made his commitment to Jonas, and he doesn’t want to back out and let his brother down.”
“I think that’s pretty admirable.”
I groaned. “And I don’t want him to give that up.”
“It sounds like you might have just needed a break from the boat and the stress. There’s nothing wrong with a time-out.”
“It might be too late.” I swallowed, regret thickening in my throat.
“Oh, sweetie. It’s never too late.”
Thirty-Eight
I climbed down the stairs of the hostel and started for the breakfast buffet. I needed some serious coffee. I’d slept fitfully the night before, tossing and turning, thinking about my conversation with Mum and the decisions I had to make. I wasn’t sure if I missed the gentle rocking of the ocean or the warmth of Eivind’s body pressed against me or both.
I pressed a mug under the dispenser and waited on the slow trickle of coffee. Someone walked up behind me to wait their turn.
“Morning,” I muttered.
“God morgen” came a careful voice.
I spun so quickly, the coffee flew out of my mug, and Eivind barely managed to dodge it.
“Shite.” I grabbed a handful of napkins to throw on the floor. Eivind helped, pressing the bottom of his shoes onto the napkins and rubbing them around.
“What are you doing here?” I exclaimed. And then I caught sight of his backpack on the ground beside him. I gripped his forearm. “Eivind, what are you doing here?” I repeated.
“I want to come with you.” He shifted his feet, nervousness tightening his features.
“To South America?” I said slowly.
“Yes, but also, to Australia. And wherever else you want to go. I’ll get a better job. A career, one that uses my degree, and we can live in Australia and buy a house.”
I laughed in relief. “Eivind, hang on. We don’t have to plan out everything right now.”
He cracked a smile. “You want to make a spreadsheet later?”
“Very funny.” I poked his side and then slid my arms around his waist. Eivind exhaled deeply and relaxed against me. “I am so glad you want to be with me.” I squeezed him extra hard. “Thank you.”
He pulled back and looked me in the eye, cupping my cheek and stroking it with his thumb. A tear rolled down, and he kissed it away. “I think it is a little crazy how much I love you after such a short time.”
“I love you too. And I feel the same way. We’ve been through so much together already.”
“Yes,” he said. “We have only known each other for six weeks. But if we were dating in regular lives, that would have been, what? Ten or twelve dates?”
I tapped his nose with my finger. “Instead I’ve been stuck with you for a month. All day, every day.”
Eivind hugged me tightly again. We stood there for a moment, the bustle of the hostel around us.
We finally pulled apart.
“I have not booked the flight yet. I am not sure if I can get the same one as you, but maybe I can use the internet here and try to book it?”
“Actually,” I said, “I don’t think I want to leave.”
Eivind looked down at me quizzically.
“I accept Jonas’s and Elayna’s apologies. And I admit, I may have been a little overly sensitive and let my feelings get hurt.”
“Ah, Lila. You are a good sailor.”
“How about ‘I show a lot of promise’?”
Eivind grinned at me. “Okay, that is fair.”
“You know what makes a good sailor, Eivind?”
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “No, what makes a good sailor, Lila?”
“Lots of practice. Why don’t we go help Jonas sail to New Zealand?”
Eivind pulled back, shocked. “You would do this?”
“If I’m your priority, then you are mine. And I know how much it means to you to help your brother. Just promise me that if it gets to be too much, we find a solution together, okay?”
Eivind responded by pulling me close and crushing his lips against mine. I let him in, and he swept me up and squeezed me tight.
When we finally gasped for air, he managed to say, “I did not think I could love you more.”
He moved to kiss me again and I stopped him. “Wait. We don’t have to sail twenty-six days at sea again, do we?”
Eivind laughed
. “No longer than a week in one go.”
“Oh, thank God.”
He kissed me again.
“And one more thing,” I said.
Eivind raised an eyebrow.
“My parents are very supportive of me staying with you. So . . . when we get to New Zealand, we have to fly home to Australia for the holidays this year.”
He groaned and loosened his grip on me. “I have to meet your dad.”
“He’s not scary!”
“He loves you, and I am the man sleeping with his daughter. Of course he is scary!”
I grinned and pressed my cheek into Eivind’s chest. “I can’t believe this is going to be my life now. Months ago I was so nervous to leave home. Now I’m going to sail around the South Pacific with the man I love.”
He laughed, but then pulled back to look at me. “Are you sure this is the adventure you want?”
“Eivind,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling his lips down to mine, “you are my adventure.”
Epilogue
A Few Weeks Later
Eik glided along the still waters of Kauehi’s lagoon. The past few weeks had been a paradise of island hopping, from the beautiful, rugged islands of the Marquesas to the postcard-perfect atolls of the Tuamotus. Unlike the Marquesas, the Tuamotus were low, flat islands with sandy beaches, idyllic palm trees, and crystal-clear water. Less jungle exploration, more sandy beaches for bonfires and picnics.
Jonas was at the helm, lazily steering us along toward our destination—a beautiful and remote anchorage that we had hoped to have all to ourselves. Sailing boats were few and far between in these islands.
“Someone is already anchored there,” Jonas said, disappointed.
I looked up from my book and scanned the horizon, finding the mast of a sailboat just off the beach.
“Bummer,” I teased. “Company in paradise.”
I settled back down, my feet in Eivind’s lap. He squeezed my ankle and winked at me.
A few minutes later Jonas sat straight up in his seat. “Binoculars! Binoculars!” He frantically searched around the cockpit, upturning pillows. Eivind and I jolted into action, helping Jonas search the cockpit.
“Where are they?” Jonas muttered, and fired off what sounded like a Norwegian expletive.
My gaze landed on the binoculars sitting atop the helm station. “Jonas!” I said, exasperated. “Right here.”
He grabbed them from me, holding them to his face and aiming at the sailboat in the anchorage.
“What is it?” Eivind asked his brother, climbing out of the cockpit and shading his eyes to take a closer look.
Eivind was too far away to hear the whispered words that came from Jonas. “It is Welina.”
“Who’s Welina?”
“Welina?” Eivind repeated. “I do not know this boat.”
Jonas didn’t answer but kept watching through the binoculars.
“Jonas,” Eivind said firmly, “who is Welina?”
Finally Jonas pulled his eyes away and checked our course. “You watched their videos with me, remember? It is Mia and . . . Liam was her husband, but I heard things . . .” His voice trailed off.
Eivind contemplated the boat for a moment but then shook it off. Looking at me, he shrugged and headed up to the bow to prepare the anchor.
An hour later and Jonas had barely taken his eyes off the boat next to us. “Okay, explain to me what’s going on with this boat.”
Jonas stood in the main salon, staring out the window. “There is a sailing channel on YouTube called ‘Welina Sailing.’ I watched many of their videos. They are very popular, and I learned so much.”
“You should go say hi. Right?” Eivind said.
Jonas turned away from the window and rubbed the back of his neck. “I do not know. It was a couple, but I read that they divorced. Maybe they sold the boat.”
“Wait, is this the one with the long red hair and dimples?” Eivind asked.
Jonas paced the length of the salon and then returned to the window.
“Yes, I remember now. Mia. We watched some of those videos together, the day you asked me to come sailing with you.”
“Yes” was all Jonas said.
Eivind and I exchanged bemused looks.
“It would be rude not to go over and say hi,” I said. “After all, we are the only boats in the anchorage. You are just being polite.” I winked at Eivind.
“Yes, okay.” He started for the companionway before quickly turning around. “I should bring something.” He opened the fridge and stuck his head in, pulling things out left and right.
“Hey, wait, stop!” Marcella got up and swatted Jonas away from the fridge. “It’s organized. What do you want?”
“What would be a good gift to bring her? Wine? Or maybe one of the chocolate bars?”
“Who are you bringing a gift to?”
I turned around to find Elayna in the doorway, watching Jonas carefully.
When Jonas didn’t answer, I did. “The neighbors.”
“Why don’t you take one of those tuna fillets over?” Marcella suggested. “Every sailor likes fresh fish.”
“Ja, okay.”
Five minutes later Eivind and I stood on the deck of Eik as Jonas paddled his way over to Welina. Eivind wrapped his arms around me.
“I think my brother has a crush,” he said quietly.
Dear Reader,
Want a little bit more Lila and Eivind? Read what happens next in the bonus epilogue, exclusive to newsletter subscribers.
Ready for Jonas and Mia’s story? Preorder The Sailor in Polynesia now!
I really did transit the Panama Canal (twice) and sail across the Pacific Ocean (also twice). You can see photos and read about my adventure here.
Please Review
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Also by Liz Alden
The Love and Wanderlust Series
The Night in Lover’s Bay (prequel short story)
The Hitchhiker in Panama
The Sailor in Polynesia
The Chef in the Mediterranean (Fall 2021)
Acknowledgments
So much went into my debut novel that you hold in your hands. Thank you to fellow writers Laurie, Lidia, and Trish, who read a very early (and very different) copy of this book. To sailors Behan, Viki, and Lloyd, thank you for your fact-checking and feedback.
I somehow threw together a great editing team on the first go round: Tiffany, who put many hours into this manuscript and made me rewrite a ton of it; Kaitlin, who polished this book like crazy; and David, another good polish, another sailor’s feedback, and bonus tidbits from his own trip.
Elizabeth is the mastermind behind the cover I can’t stop staring at.
A big thank you to my husband, who encouraged me so much from day one, and my parents, all five of them, who supported this book in one way or another.
About the Author
Liz Alden is a digital nomad. Most of the time she’s on her sailboat, but sometimes she’s in Texas. She knows exactly how big the world is—having sailed around it—and exactly how small it is, having bumped into friends worldwide.
She’s been a dishwasher, an engineer, a CEO, and occasionally gets paid to write or sail.
This is her debut novel.
For 100-word flash fiction stories, book reviews, and teasers for the Love and Wanderlust series, follow Liz.
lizalden.com
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