Castaway Cove
Page 33
“Put his boat up for a fire-sale price the other day,” Bernard said. “Seems he wants to escape the rain and retire in the Arizona desert.”
Personally, Cole couldn’t figure out why anyone would want to live in the desert by choice, but he figured if everyone felt the way about the Pacific Coast that he did, people would be flooding into Shelter Bay and ruining the town.
“It’s a newer one than the boat you worked on that summer,” his grandfather added. A bit slyly, Cole thought. “He had it rigged up especially for charters.”
Cole felt a tug of interest. One of the things he’d been forced to think about was the high rate of veteran unemployment. The idea that he’d actually not only have a job, but one he loved, was tempting.
“If I were to stay, I’d already have a boat.” This one, which was starting to remind him of Snoopy’s doghouse in that old Charlie Brown Christmas TV special. Could they put any more damn lights on it?
“An old boat that’s got decades of fish smell embedded into every board,” his grandfather said. “Not that there aren’t those who’d want it.”
“We’ve had offers from fishermen wanting to expand,” Lucien said. “If you wanted, you could sell it and put the money toward Ernie’s newer, shiny one.”
Okay. That was an even more interesting idea. But . . .
“I wouldn’t take your money.”
“We’re doing just fine,” his father said. “Especially since you and J.T. got together with Sax and pitched in to buy us our new place.”
“We’re family,” his grandfather said. “What’s ours is yours. You know,” he said thoughtfully, “all this Christmas fuss and bother is probably making it tougher for you to focus and sort your choices through properly. Maybe you should spend some time alone at the cabin.”
His father and grandfather had built the cabin themselves at Rainbow Lake during summer weekends back when Cole had been in elementary school. The adults in the family worked long hours, so getting the time to escape for more than a day or two had been rare, but after Labor Day, once the tourists had mostly left town and the crabs were molting, putting a pause to the season, his parents would close Bon Temps, his grandfather would dock the boat, and they’d all spend the best two weeks of the year swimming, pole fishing, eagle watching, barbecuing, and just lying in hammocks, listening to the waterfall tumble over rocks into the lake while the breeze whispered in the tops of the towering Douglas fir trees.
There were times, more and more frequent lately, when memories of those carefree summer vacations had helped Cole survive deployments.
“I promised Mom I’d be home for Christmas,” he said, even as the idea of being alone out in the woods sang its Siren song.
“She’ll understand,” his dad assured him. “Though I’m not going to deny that she’s been looking forward to getting her boys home again so she can spoil you all.”
Which she’d definitely been doing. Cole had been home only three days and he’d already eaten more than he normally would in a week.
“Why don’t you compromise?” his grandfather suggested. “Stay until after the boat parade and the school program, which has turned out to be a pretty big deal, since your grandmother’s been working overtime helping Kelli with her kindergarten class’s part in it. Then take off.”
Damn. Kelli Carpenter was a blast from Cole’s past. One that, unfortunately, in a town this size, he probably wasn’t going to be able to avoid for long.
“If you’re sure Mom wouldn’t be upset . . .”
“She’s your mother,” both men said together.
“She’s always wanted the best for you and your brothers,” his dad tacked on. “If you need time alone to get your head around what you’re going to do next with your life, she’ll be fine with the idea.”
Guilt was a powerful motivator and—as a memory of a past Christmas tree lighting and Kelli Carpenter’s blue eyes flashing anger like lightning over a stormy sea came crashing back to him—although he’d never considered himself a coward, Cole decided to take his father and grandfather up on their offer to get the hell out of Dodge.