Hopefully it would be enough to pay rent, since that was coming up, and maybe buy a little food. Then he had to send some to his friend Marco.
Jake walked into his apartment and kicked off his shoes. He sat on the couch and counted out exactly twenty, fifty-dollar bills. He stared at the money spread out on the coffee table.
A thousand dollars.
If that was what Wes gave him after two weeks, which meant Jake could count on two grand before they made their first cast out at sea. When they brought in some salmon, he’d get a cut of what they made off that, too.
The money he’d earn would pay for his mom’s copay, and whatever was left would pay for his rent and living expenses.
Jake sank into the soft cushions of his couch and flipped open his phone to call his mom at the hospital.
It rang twice before she picked up. “Hello?” Her voice sounded so much stronger than the last time they spoke.
“Hey mom. How are you feeling?”
“Great. About to go home.”
“Right now?”
“With a whole mess of medicines. My house’ll be a pharmacy when I get back.”
Jake kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks, happy to let his feet dry before hopping in the shower. “What do they have you on?”
“Well, till we can do the surgery, I’ll be on blood thinners and some other stuff to make sure my blood platelets don’t stick to the clot and make it bigger.”
“And the doctors say you’ll be okay until I can scrape up the copay?” He tossed his socks in the hamper and stretched out on the couch, laying his head on the armrest.
“Well, we don’t have much of a choice.”
Jake skimmed his fingers over the money on the table. “I just got paid, and it looks like I’ll have enough to pay the insurance within a few months. Do you think you’ll be okay until then?”
“I’ll do my best.”
Jake smiled, even though he was a little sad. “I miss you, Mom.” If something happened to her before he could pay for the procedure, he’d never forgive himself.
“Aw, I miss you too, honey. How are things there?”
There was a beep on the phone—someone calling on the other line. Maya’s name blinked on the caller ID. “Hey, Mom. Can you hang on a second?”
“Sure.”
Jake switched over. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Maya said softly.
His mother’s voice chimed in. “Um...hello?”
Jake froze when two voices—both his mom’s and Maya’s—came from the same call. “Damn it,” he mumbled. “I must have merged the lines.”
“Who’s this?” his mom asked.
“Maya...who’s this?”
Jake’s eyes widened. “Wait just a second Mom. Just hang on—”
“Hi Maya. I’m Jake’s mom. Are you his girlfriend?”
Jake’s entire face flushed with heat. “Mom!”
Maya giggled. “Um, we’re—”
“You don’t have to answer that, Maya. Mom, stop asking...anything.” His tone had turned frantic as he fumbled with his phone to splice the lines apart. When he couldn’t figure out how, he brought the phone to his ear as the two of them chatted like old friends.
“How are you feeling?” Maya asked. “Jake told me you were sick.”
“Oh, I’m just fine. About to go home.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Hey, Maya,” Jake interrupted. “Let me call you right—”
“Don’t you dare hang up on her,” his mother scolded. “She’s so sweet.”
“Thanks,” Maya responded. “But Jake’s right. You should probably get some rest.”
He sat back on his couch, shaking his head. How could he let this happen?
“Jake, honey?”
He sighed. “Yes, Mom.”
“What are you having for dinner? I saw your update on Facebook, said you’ve been eating lots of Top Ramen.”
“Mom...” He cracked a grin. She’d always been so worried about him, even when she was the one in the hospital. “I’m having...um...” Besides a few odds and ends, his fridge was empty. “I have to go shopping.”
“I can bring you something to eat if you want,” Maya said.
“That would be great,” his mom replied. “He needs to keep up his strength, with him working so hard-n-all. Thank you, Maya.”
“Oh, it’s not a problem. I need to get out of the house anyway.” Her tone had dimmed with the last remark. “At least, if that’s okay with Jake.”
He paused. The last thing he wanted was for his mom to be worried about him. She needed a clear mind to rest and get better. “All right,” Jake said. “Sounds good.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, that’s great,” they both said one right after the other.
Jake chuckled. “Okay, bye Mom. See you soon, Maya.”
“Bye sweetie.” His mom hung up, cutting off Maya too.
Jake snapped shut his phone. Well, for first meetings, that could have gone a lot worse.
Chapter Twenty-one
Maya
Maya grabbed the grocery bags out of the car and carried them into Jake’s apartment building. The phone call with his mom still lingered in her mind. He sounded so cute, all flustered, trying to stop her from asking any more prying questions.
But Maya didn’t mind. His mom had a likable quality about her. That was clear just from talking to her on the phone for a few minutes. It must have been where Jake got that same quality, and why she was so comfortable around him.
Why she’d even think about cooking him dinner.
She knocked on his apartment door. He swung it open and immediately noticed the bags in her hands. “Oh. I didn’t know you were bringing...” He took the bags and held them up, peeking inside. “Chicken.”
“I’m going to bake it, with vegetables.” Maybe it was part of the whole starving artist thing, but she had never really gotten around to learning how to cook, and baked chicken was one of the only meals she knew how to do well. “I hope that’s okay.”
“I like just about anything,” he said as she followed him inside and shut the door behind her. Maya unloaded the bags onto the kitchen counter, making sure she remembered everything.
Carrots, red potatoes, butter, seasonings, and of course the chicken. “Do you have a baking pan?”
“Uh...” Jake glanced around his kitchen, seemingly lost. “What does it look like?”
She tilted her head to the side. “Have you ever cooked in your kitchen before?”
“Define cooking.” He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, his eyebrows arched as he looked at her.
“Okay. Let’s see what you have.” The bottom cabinets only had some Tupperware and a big boiling pot. She stood pointed to the higher cupboards. “Can you see up there?” She pushed onto her tiptoes. “I’m too short.”
He stepped closer and straightened his posture, the small effort making him a few inches taller. She hadn’t noticed until now, but his broad shoulders dwarfed her in stature.
“Is this it?” He pulled out a dark blue metal baking dish with a lid.
She smiled. “That is, actually.”
The kitchen was tiny, forcing them to inch around each other. He rested his hand on the small of her back as he passed.
“How about a drink?” He opened the fridge and pulled out a Diet Coke. “I wasn’t sure what to get. I hope this is okay.”
She took it and read the label. “When did you buy this?”
“A few days ago.”
She smiled. “Diet?”
His eyes grew wide. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I swear.”
She laughed, resting her hand on his chest. “I’m just kidding. It was sweet.” She flattened her palm over his T-shirt, and couldn’t help but notice how solid his chest was under her fingertips.
Jake searched her eyes, making her breath speed up. She curled her fingers around his t-shirt, her focus on his lips and how much she
wanted to taste them. He rested his hands on her hips, his grip around her waist tightening. The way he held her made her skin flush. The warmth of his hands spread over her skin, and she lost any desire to hold herself back.
Maya leaned into his chest and kissed him with a sharp inhale. His arms wound around her waist and he crushed her against his chest, his hot tongue working against hers. Maya let out a small sigh as she ran her hands up the back of his neck, into his hair and around his jaw, pulling him into her.
He leaned into her, pinning her between his body and the counter. Jake opened his mouth wider, stealing the breath from her chest.
Chapter Twenty-two
Jake
Jake’s muscles wound tight. He had sworn not to get involved. Not to let himself be distracted. Kissing Maya was a bad idea. His mouth burned as he leaned deeper in to her. Her lips were as velvety as he imagined, but he didn’t anticipate her tasting so good—like warm mint and bubblegum. His veins rushed with heat.
The electric ring of his phone tore through the silence. Jake ignored it. He was trapped in a kiss and he didn’t want to escape. There was something special about Maya. Something about the way she looked at him, how she seemed nervous and clumsy, but then took him by surprise. She was unexpected in so many ways. He didn’t think girls like that existed.
His phone rang again. Maya pulled back, breaking their kiss. “Maybe you should get that. Could be your mom.” She bit her lip with that shy smile that drove him crazy. “Then we can pick up where we left off.”
He plucked his phone off the counter and flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Jake!” His skipper shouted over screaming sirens. “Get your ass down to the docks!”
“What’s going on?” He snatched his keys off the counter.
“The boat! The goddam boat’s on fire!”
***
Sweat trickled down the sides of Jake’s face. His skin was tender from standing so close to the flames as he worked to douse the fire with seawater before the emergency crew arrived.
He slumped against his car and watched The Wounded Patriot, now half underwater with plumes of thick, black smoke billowing from its bow. The island’s one fire truck continued to pump water from the ocean and spray it on the boat, which did little more than help sink it even faster. It didn’t matter. There was nothing left to save.
Wes stood beside a growing crowd, shaking his head. This would devastate his livelihood, but the old skipper wasn’t the only one affected by the loss.
Maya cracked open a bottle of water and extended it to him. “Here,” she said in a gentle tone. “You should drink something. You’ve been at it for hours.”
“Thanks.” He took the bottle and swigged a few mouthfuls.
“Don’t worry.” She rested her hand on his arm. “You’ll figure something out.”
It was a nice dream, but without the boat, he was shit out of luck.
The group of firemen turned off the hose. The firefighter wearing a white helmet broke away from the team and walked toward Wes.
Jake joined his skipper to hear the final verdict.
“Well...” The firefighter wiped sweat from his forehead and glanced back at the boat. “I’m sorry, Wes. The boat’s gone. There’s nothing we could have done.”
The old skipper rubbed his eyes and dragged his hands down his beard as the rest of The Wounded Patriot slowly sank below the waves.
“Do you have any idea how it started?” Jake asked. “Was it arson?”
“No, I don’t think so,” the fireman said. “When we got here, the real heavy smoke was coming up mostly from the engine room. Did you leave anything running overnight?”
Wes slowly shook his head, then froze, his eyes growing wide. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” He turned, mumbling more curse words under his breath.
The firefighter glanced between him and Jake and then nodded. “I’ll give him a minute.” He turned and rejoined his crew near the dock.
Jake dropped his head. What would he say to his mom? How would he explain that she’d have to stay on her meds and hope not to have any more seizures—or worse? That he couldn’t provide for her. That he was a failure.
He glanced to his car where Maya waited, her fingers pressed over her lips. The seawater swirled as the last bit of blue and white boat vanished under the surface.
“I’m sorry,” Wes said from behind him. Jake turned to his skipper, who stood with his head hung. “I...” He gestured to the boat—or where the boat used to be. “It was supposed to be a cold night. The engine was having trouble starting up the day before, so I brought a space heater in the engine room...”
Jake shifted his weight. “You brought in a...a space heater?” He fisted his hands. It was a stupid thing to do, but as much as he’d lost in the fire, Wes had lost more. Jake scratched the back of his head, then ran his hand down his neck. “What are you going to do?”
Wes shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe move to Juneau, near my sister.
“You’re not going to buy another boat?”
“We didn’t go out to sea even once. As of now, I don’t have a pot to piss in, let alone enough to buy another rig.” Wes waved his hand in the air. “But don’t worry yourself. You’re a hard worker, and I’ll put a good word in with some of the other skippers in case anyone’s lookin’ for another deckhand this season.”
Jake nodded. “Thanks. I really appreciate that.”
Wes extended his hand, and Jake shook it firmly. “It was good working with you,” Jake said. “And I appreciate everything you did for me. All the training and the loan.”
“Eeh.” His thick, white mustache twitched with his curled lip. “I didn’t do you any favors. You earned it, kid.” Wes drew back his hand and patted Jake on the shoulder. “Best of luck to ya.”
***
For the next few days, Jake hung around the docks, approaching some of the skippers as they came in from their first cast of the season. He had found a few hopefuls, but no promises.
“Look.” The young skipper lit a cigarette, deep grey eyes squinting as he shook his head. “I feel for you. I really do. But my crew is full.”
“Can’t you fit one more deckhand?”
“The fact is, shit happens, and you’re just going to have to call The Wounded Patriot a loss. As much as I like Wes, he never kept his rig in the best condition. I don’t see how he made any decent money for him or his crew.”
“I know he screwed up, but—”
“Your boat is underwater.” The man watched Jake with narrow eyes, squinting from the bright sun in the cold morning air. “I don’t mean to be an asshole, but I just don’t have a job for you. And I think you’ll be hard pressed to find any skipper on Kodiak who doesn’t already have a full crew.”
Jake nodded, clenching his jaw. Without a job, he was royally fucked. And the possibility of him being forced to move back to Washington was becoming all too real.
“All right. Thanks man.” Jake shook the skipper’s hand. “Keep me in mind if you hear anything, would you?”
“Absolutely.”
Jake parted ways. All he could do was keep looking—but only for a few more weeks.
He checked his watch. If he didn’t get his ass moving, he’d be late to his first class. This time his professor wouldn’t let him slide. Not after missing two days in a row.
He sped to school and grabbed his backpack out of the Beast before jogging inside and slipping into his seat just seconds before the bell rang.
First and second period dragged by. Each professor loaded him with more assignments than he was prepared for. But with slipping grades, there was no room to slack. Not now. If he wanted to finish this semester with decent marks, it was time to roll up his sleeves, which meant pulling more double shifts of schoolwork and job hunting.
On his way to third period, his phone buzzed. Shuffling through the steady flow of students in the hall, Jake answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jake. What’s up
, bro?”
“Marco.” Jake stopped and pressed his back to the wall beside a trashcan, hoping not to get plowed into while talking. He plugged his other ear with his finger and turned away from the crowd. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to let you know I picked up the money you wired, and I’m going to the store to buy your mom some food.”
“That’s good. How is she?”
“She’s been asking about you. I don’t know what to tell her.”
“Is she okay?”
“Maybe a little weak, but so far so good. I think she’s just lonely at the house.”
Someone as sick as her shouldn’t be alone to begin with, but Jake had no other option. She had to stay close to her doctors. “I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”
“No problem, bro. The extra cash is helping me out, so it works. Oh, and that job thing you asked about. The restaurant isn’t hiring anymore, but I have a buddy who works in construction. He says they need a few strong guys, but the spots are filling fast. Once they’re gone, they’re gone.”
“Really? You think he’s reliable?” Jake turned to see the hall was almost empty. He grabbed his bag, the cell phone still pressed to his ear.
“Yeah, but the job is temporary—just until the apartment complex they’re working on is done.”
“And after that?” Jake asked.
“You’d have to square that away when the time comes, but the guy is known for keeping a few good workers around as regulars. It’s something to think about.”
Jake walked toward his final class, speaking in a low voice. “Okay. If I can’t find another job on the docks, I may be coming back sooner than I thought.” He stopped at the entrance of the art room.
“All right, bro. Talk to you soon.”
Jake leaned to the side, searching the back of the room until he found Maya. A small trinket sat on the table in front of her while she sorted brushes, with that same focus in her eyes she had every time she painted. “All right, Marco. I have to go to my last class,” he whispered. “But do me a favor and hug my mom for me.”
The Edge of You Page 11