Jake hefted a box onto the salon table, opened it, and stared at the contents.
“What is this?”
“What do you mean?” Shannon asked.
“You bought two cases of chickpeas. Are you a hummus addict?”
Lance the Loser had talked her into becoming a vegetarian. He thought eating meat harmed the environment, then decided all animal products were bad. At first, she’d missed the taste of rare steak, but once her body got used to the meatless diet, the cravings had stopped. She’d changed herself for The Loser, and look what he’d done to her. From now on, she was going to be herself. No pretending to be something she wasn’t just to please a man.
“I’m vegetarian.”
“You’re joking, right?”
It figured Jake would have a thing against vegetarians. Rough, tough, western guy. She could tell he didn’t want her on board, but really, she’d eat what she wanted. Not what the cowboy thought she should eat.
“No.”
Jake flipped the lids of the other boxes and found lentils, almonds, rice, peas, and peanut butter.
“Is this what you plan to live on?”
“There’s nothing wrong with being vegetarian.”
“Do you know how hard it is to find fresh fruit and vegetables when you’re cruising?”
“It can’t be that hard. Bahamians must eat fruit and veggies, too.”
“Tell me you bought meat.”
Shannon shook her head. She liked the feel of her ponytail swinging from side-to-side. Lance the Loser thought they were unprofessional, so she’d stocked up on hair elastics at Sam’s Club in a silent stick-it-to-him gesture. She missed The Loser, and the only way she could keep tightness from forming in her throat was to stay angry at him. She’d rather be angry than hurt, but there was no denying the pain.
“I thought a western cowboy like you could do your own shopping.”
“I don’t own cows or horses, so you really can’t call me a cowboy.”
Shannon laughed. For some reason, teasing Jake was fun. He was too easy to get going, and it eased the hurt in her chest.
“Tell me you’ve at least ridden a horse.”
“Sorry to disappoint you. I think I saw one once. Are you a vegetarian, too?” Jake asked Aunt Debi.
“That’s Shannon’s thing. I love a good steak. And she’s pulling your leg. Of course we bought meat.” Aunt Debi removed the seat from the settee, kneeled, and placed the cans on the bottom of the storage unit.
Shannon reached inside one of the boxes, pulled out two cans of chick peas and handed them to Aunt Debi. Lance the Loser made hummus from scratch and had taught Shannon. They’d spent one rainy afternoon in Kingston making a batch that would last a month. Then he joined her while she researched a story about inflated insurance charges in the home building industry. They’d hit the library, sat at a long table with their thighs pressed together in mutual silence, and read. She closed her eyes. How could he cheat on her? She handed two more cans to Aunt Debi. If she just kept moving, she would be okay.
“We also bought a sealer so we can vacuum pack the meat into smaller portions. More will fit in the freezer that way.”
“Good idea. Once we’re done putting stuff away, we’ll see how much space is left.” Jake placed his sunglasses on top of his peak cap and hoisted a bag onto the table. “If we have room, we can go for another round of provisioning.”
Shannon giggled. “Just in case we can fit more cowboy food in for you?”
* * *
“Aunt Debi, what do you know about Jake?” Shannon pressed her back against the rear of her aunt’s berth and wrapped her arms around a pillow. The food had been stored, and now they were waiting for a weather window to sail across the Gulf Stream. Sun beamed through the over-sized window and warmed her. The slap of water against the hull gently rocked A Dog’s Cat.
“I advertised for a captain, and he applied,” she said. “And I think it’s time you dropped aunt from my name.”
“You mean just call you Debi?”
“Uh, yeah. Aunt Debi without Aunt would be Debi.”
“Ha ha. It’s kinda weird, but okay. So did you check Jake’s references?”
Debi sat beside her with her legs stretched over the top of the blue and white striped blanket and wiggled her toes. Weird thinking of her as Debi and not Aunt Debi, but she’d get used to it.
“Of course I did. He was an RCMP officer in Whistler, BC.”
“I guess that means he likes to ski.”
“Probably.”
Jake exuded a strength of character and a raw sexuality, not that she’d share that thought with anyone. He was polite to Aunt—to Debi. But Shannon’s judgment when it came to men sucked. What if she was way off about Jake? He seemed secretive about his past.
“He’s too young to be retired. So what? He quit?”
“He did.”
“Did he tell you why?”
“His fiancée died, and he needed a change.”
Shannon opened the two-foot, square hatch directly above their heads, and a salty breeze filled the cabin.
“What happened to his fiancée?”
“She drowned.”
“When?”
“You chose a career that suited you when you decided to be a reporter. I’m surprised you’re not recording our conversation.”
“Very funny. So when did she die?”
“Last spring.”
“And now he wants to live on the water? That seems odd.”
“No odder than me sailing after what happened to Bobby.”
“Where did he get his captain’s license?”
“He lives in Whistler but got his license in Vancouver. He’s done a lot of Pacific Ocean sailing, and he’s captained two sailboats from Florida to Trinidad and Tobago. Are you done with the interrogation?”
“Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Lance cheating on me is doing a number.”
“Have you talked to him since you left?”
Shannon rubbed her finger where her engagement ring used to rest. She’d have to break the habit of twisting a ring she no longer wore. Maybe once she stopped doing that, she wouldn’t hurt so much.
“No. And I don’t plan to. Anyway, it’s better I found out before I married the loser. I can’t believe my boss.”
“You know you’re running away, right?”
Shannon snorted. “Of course I know that, but it’s not like I have any reason to stay in Kingston. You should have seen my boss’s face when I took a picture of her standing naked in my kitchen. I told her I was going to send the photo to her boss and tell him what she’d done.” Shannon laughed. She had to, or the tears would come. She would make herself not love Lance anymore.
Debi curled up into herself and gasped. “You didn’t?”
“Take the picture. Yeah. Send it to her boss. No. But it was satisfying making her think I would. She’ll never be sure and neither will Lance.” If Shannon had to draw a physical opposite to Lance, Jake would be a good model. Jake’s dark-brown hair, brown eyes, and hint of stubble put together with his six-foot-two muscular body made Lance seem meek with his blond hair, bony physique, and baby face. She was glad Jake looked nothing like Lance. She didn’t need the reminder.
When they stopped laughing about Shannon’s boss, Debi asked, “Are you sure you’re alright?”
Shannon sighed. “No, but what can I do. I need to keep moving.”
Debi squeezed her hand.
“I know it’s nothing like losing Uncle Bobby, and I don’t want to whine, but…”
“You’re not whining. You’re allowed to hurt. And you’re not insulting me or Bobby, you know. You can still go back. I won’t think any less of you.”
“You might not, but I would. He’s a cheater. That will never change.” Shannon stared out the window, remaining silent for a few moments, pushing the pain to the bottom, willing the feelings to go away. “When do you think we can leave?”
“Jake says we can
start watching for a weather window right away.”
“Are you worried about crossing the Gulf Stream for the first time?”
“I guess. But I’m sure Jake knows what he’s doing. That’s why I hired him.”
Shannon pressed her fingers against the side window. A seagull perched on a pylon and pooped a slimy green and white blob. The gooey substance oozed down the wood, reminding Shannon of the mess her life had become. How could she be thirty years old, single, and unemployed? She wished the pylon was Lance’s head.
“What are you thinking?” Debi asked.
“Why are you really going on this trip? Do you think you’re going to find out what happened to Uncle Bobby?”
“I know what happened to him. I need to see where he went, that’s all.”
“Does Jake know about him?”
“He knows Bobby died.”
A shadow fell over the open hatch above their heads, blocking out the sun.
Jake cleared his throat. “I can hear you.”
A few seconds of silence was followed by a burst of laughter.
“Say goodbye to privacy,” Shannon said.
Jake peered through the open hatch. “So, are we trying to find out what happened to the mysterious Bobby?”
His deep voice rumbled through Shannon, setting her already raw nerves on fire. She could listen to him speak forever and never get sick of it. Sensual was the only way to describe his voice. Just a physical reaction. Nothing more, so get over it.
“No,” Debi said. “Bobby died at sea. He was single-handing. I think it’s obvious what happened. I only want to spend time where he did. As a tribute to him.”
* * *
Shannon flopped on the bunk in her berth on the port side of A Dog’s Cat. She wasn’t quite ready for sleep yet. She opened her laptop and clicked on the Facebook icon. So many memories stored somewhere on the cloud, wherever that was.
If she could erase the past, she would, but Lance was part of her. He comprised a massive chunk of her recent personal history, and no matter what he’d done, that counted in her life. She didn’t want to think she’d wasted the years.
The day she’d met him, she’d been distracted. Her roommate had gotten a job with a Toronto magazine, and she’d just been sent to Italy. Shannon was strolling along the edge of Lake Ontario, wondering how she was going to find a new roommate she liked. She entered the students’ lounge at Queen’s University and pinned a roommate wanted notice on the board. Lance happened to be reading the board.
“I’ve a friend looking for a place,” he said.
“Male or female?” Shannon’s apartment was too small to share with a man. If one person used the bathroom, the other person heard all the noises that should remain private.
“Female. She’s just moved here.”
Shannon hadn’t really noticed Lance. He’d been polite, given her his friend’s name and number and left. She’d liked his friend, and they became roommates. That meant Lance was around, and as they say, one thing led to another.
On the day he gave her the engagement ring, she’d said yes instantly. Her vision of life with Lance was one of happiness. Both were ambitious and had great careers. Both liked to sail. They ran together. Neither could cook. And he made her laugh. Their biggest difference had been that he was a vegetarian and she wasn’t. She hadn’t once stopped to think he might be a cheater.
A wave slapped the hull of A Dog’s Cat. Probably a boat wake. If she were lucky, the gentle sea in the protected marina would lull her to sleep.
She got up, pulled her oversized t-shirt below her hips, and snuggled farther into the corner. Only then did she realize she was wearing Lance’s shirt. She’d worn it to bed for years, a habit she no longer thought about. She ran her palm along the fabric worn soft and imagined she smelled his scent. Pushing her laptop aside, she lifted the t-shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor.
Her problem now was her own t-shirts were too tight to be called comfortable pajamas. What choice did she have? She couldn’t sleep naked with Jake on the boat. She pulled a t-shirt over her head and tucked herself back into the snug berth.
Her laptop dinged, notifying her she had a message.
From her place of comfort in the corner, she viewed the screen. The message was from Lance.
U there?
She stared at the letters, not knowing if she should respond. She wanted to hug him, be kissed by him. She wanted things to go back to normal. Until she thought about her boss standing naked in her kitchen. Then she wanted him to go away.
No, she typed.
She could almost hear Lance laughing at the other end.
U OK?
No. When she hurt before, she’d had Lance to lean into. He’d been supportive when she needed it. Now when she needed him the most, he couldn’t help her.
I’m sorry.
She’d heard the words cross his lips once in a while but never over something so serious. He was sorry every time he got stuck at work late. He was sorry he forgot her birthday last year. She hadn’t cared because he’d been in the middle of final exams. He was sorry her engagement ring was small, but after he graduated, he’d get her a larger one. Her heart had melted. As if she’d ever want a different ring than the one he’d chosen to propose with. The one that she discarded on the toilet seat.
2 late 4 that.
Call me? We need to talk.
How could they talk anymore? In her heart, she knew there would be no more late night moments when Lance came off shift, when they would sit curled into each other, whispering as if there was someone listening. No more secrets shared. No more dreams to work on. He’d sliced her in two, and he couldn’t put her back together again. She’d have to do that on her own. Never again would she be vulnerable to the searing pain a man could cause.
She looked up when a knock broke into her thoughts. She pulled the comforter over her bare legs and said, “It’s open.”
“I’m going to take Piddles for a walk. Wanna come?”
“Her name is Peanut.”
Jake cocked his head to one side and winked. “Yup. Just like you’re not Champagne.” He jingled the leash. “Coming?”
Shannon shook her head. “I’m in my PJs, but thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” Jake closed the door and left her alone. So alone.
Ding went her computer.
U still there?
She closed the lid of her laptop and buried her face in her pillow. In the morning she’d go for a run and sweat Lance out of her system.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jake
Florida to the Bahamas
Jake lay in his bunk, resting his head in the cup of his hands, staring at the ceiling and contemplating the thirty-six hour trip from Florida to Nassau. He waited for his alarm to beep. He’d been awake for half an hour but wanted to let the ladies sleep until the agreed upon time. Almost three weeks in Florida was enough.
Precisely at one second to three a.m., he pressed his finger on the top button of his watch and shut off the alarm. He crawled to the end of the berth, swung his legs over the edge, and banged his head on the drop ceiling.
He rubbed his palm over his forehead.
“Crap.”
Nighttime on the water was always cooler than on land, and he planned to be warm during the first few hours of sailing. He dressed in sweats, a t-shirt, a hoodie, and deck shoes.
He knocked on Shannon’s cabin door as he passed and crossed the salon and knocked on Debi’s. Piddles barked from below.
The lights momentarily blinded him when he flipped the switch. He let his eyes adjust and filled the kettle. Coffee first. He whisked six eggs and poured them into a hot pan. The sizzle might tempt the ladies out of bed faster. One burner on the propane stove remained unused, and he put bread on the stove-top toaster. A fed crew was a happy crew, and he wanted everyone to eat before they hit the Gulf Stream.
The forecast called for ten to fifteen knots of wind from the south and three to five-
foot seas at ten-second intervals. The conditions wouldn’t get much better than that.
Shannon entered the salon dressed in an outfit almost identical to his, and he smiled. She’d listened to what he’d said about overnight sailing. Her phone sat on the navigation station, and she checked for messages.
“Anything interesting?” Jake asked.
“Nope. Unless you consider several texts from Lance the Loser interesting.”
Jake chuckled. “Eggs?”
“Like I could eat eggs at three in the morning.”
“How about some toast?”
“Toast is good. Thanks.”
Debi trundled up the steps to the salon. “I’m going to take Peanut for a quick walk.” She reached for the leash, but stopped and pointed at the gift-wrapped box on the table. “What’s that?”
“I had boat cards made for us. One set with your contact info, one with mine. I hear it’s what everyone does,” Shannon said.
Debi examined a card. A photo of A Dog’s Cat filled the left half. Her contact information was on the right. She hugged Shannon. “Thank you.”
Jake handed Shannon two slices of slightly burnt toast. She buttered it, smothered the surface with strawberry jam, and sighed.
“Can I change my mind on the eggs?”
Jake passed her the eggs without comment, and she smiled. Lots of vegetarians ate eggs, right?
Debi left with Peanut attached to her leash.
Jake poured coffee and joined her at the table. “How about we all stay on deck until we clear the inlet, then I’ll take the first shift?”
“Four hours each?”
“If you think you can handle it.”
Shannon chewed the toast remaining in her mouth and swallowed.
“Are you saying it’s too hard for you?”
“Just thinking of you.”
“Sure you were. Four hours is fine.”
Debi returned, ate the remaining eggs, and they cast off. The lights from the marina and surrounding city made it bright enough for Jake to motor calmly along the Intracoastal Waterway.
He steered toward the channel markers at the inlet. “Let’s get the mainsail up before we leave the harbor. It’ll be easier on flat water.”
Look the Other Way Page 3