by Aurora Rey
Chapter Twenty-seven
Graham sat on the sofa in sweatpants and a hoodie zipped all the way up. She wore a shirt underneath, as well as slippers and two pairs of socks. Still, she was cold. The chill sat in her bones and refused to let go. It had been that way for days, ever since she walked away from Mat in the trap yard. She couldn’t seem to get warm.
Jess emerged from her bedroom and gave her a sympathetic look. “How’re you feeling today?”
Graham mustered a smile. “I’m okay.”
“Liar.”
Graham chuckled and smiled for real. “I’m not bad, really. Just feeling lazy is all. But since I don’t have anywhere to be, I figure I can wallow.” She sounded pathetic, even to herself. Fortunately, Jess was a good enough friend that Graham didn’t feel the need to fake being chipper.
“You’re allowed to wallow, at least for a bit. A week.” Jess nodded, as though she’d just made an important decision. “You have a week to mope around in your pajamas. Hopefully, Mat will come to her senses by then. If not, then we’ll figure out how to snap you out of it.”
Graham thought about the handful of breakups she’d experienced. She’d never used the phrase “snap out of it,” but the disappointment of those endings had always faded rather quickly. She couldn’t imagine that now. The hollow feeling in her chest, paired with the never-ending chill, felt like a part of her, permanent. She didn’t have the heart to say as much to Jess. “What are you up to today?”
Jess gave her a funny look, then looked down at herself. “Uh, work.”
Graham blinked and registered the purple scrubs she wore—solid pants and a top with cats all over it. “Right. Sorry.”
“Do you want to come with me? You can hang out with Clio. She likes people way more than Athena.”
Clio was the cat that lived at the veterinary office. She had six toes on three of her paws and loved when people took the time to scratch between her ears or under her chin. Graham, who’d considered adopting a cat more than once in the last year, had a real soft spot for her. “Tempting, but I think I’ll pass. I’m pretty happy not putting on pants.”
Jess narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She didn’t feel okay, but she didn’t want Jess to worry. And she wasn’t going to turn into some barely functioning hermit. She wasn’t that pathetic. “I will be. Promise.”
Jess nodded. She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press it. “I’ll be home around six. We’ll have dinner and watch a cheesy movie. I think the Hallmark channel is already showing Christmas movies.”
Graham pointed a finger at her. “Not until Thanksgiving.”
“No, I think they started right after Halloween.”
“I mean no watching holiday movies until after Thanksgiving. Or Christmas music. Or decorations.” Even in her sorry state, some things were sacred.
Jess lifted both hands. “Yes, ma’am. I forgot you had such strong feelings on the matter.” She lifted a shoulder. “There’s always Love, Actually.”
Graham smiled. It was her favorite old standby, and not technically a holiday movie. “Indeed there is.”
Jess left and Graham fixed herself another cup of tea. She returned to the sofa and tried to coax Athena to snuggle with her. It didn’t work. She covered her legs with a blanket instead and watched five back-to-back episodes of a home improvement show whose premise seemed to test the boundaries of what could be painted white and then distressed. It was oddly addicting and Graham found herself scanning the room for a piece of furniture begging for such treatment. She frowned. Probably not a good look for the IKEA table.
At noon, Graham hauled herself to the bathroom for a shower. Clean clothes would keep Jess from worrying too much. She towel-dried her hair and settled on leggings and an oversize sweater. Still not really pants, but sort of.
She wandered back to the living room and studied the sofa for a moment. Instead of giving in to the soft nothingness it promised, she went to the kitchen. She’d make dinner. It would be good for her. It would also be a nice way to thank Jess for coddling her for the last few days. She opened the fridge and stared into it blankly. The usual yogurt and hummus and crème brûlée coffee creamer stared back at her. Graham sighed. She would have to go to the store.
She looked down at her outfit. It counted as being dressed, or close enough. She pulled on boots and her coat, grabbed her wallet and keys, and walked out of the apartment before she could reconsider.
Ten minutes later, she found herself at the Stop & Shop. The wind whipped through the fabric of her leggings and she lamented not going with real pants. Fortunately, it was a quick dash from the parking lot into the store.
Fluorescent light shone brightly and Christmas music was already being piped in via invisible speakers. Graham grabbed a basket and headed to the produce department before stopping and looking around. She had no idea what to make and even less of an idea what to buy. Poor planning on her part.
“Graham?”
At hearing her name, Graham turned and found Renata giving her a quizzical look. Graham offered her a smile. “Hi.”
“Hi. Are you okay? You seem,” she paused, as though looking for the right word, “lost.”
Graham couldn’t help but laugh at the accuracy, and absurdity, of the statement. “I decided to make dinner, but didn’t get any farther than that.”
“I’ve been there.”
“So, uh, how are you?” Graham assumed Renata knew about her and Mat, but she didn’t know how much. Hell, for all she knew, Mat and Dom weren’t speaking either.
Renata smiled. “I’m good. I’ve been thinking about you. Dom told me what happened.”
It was a relief to have Renata break the ice, much better than having it floating out there all awkward. Graham shook her head and sighed. “I’ve been better.”
“Do you want to come to dinner? I’m cooking at Dom’s. Nothing fancy.”
The thought of being so close to Mat’s apartment made Graham’s chest constrict. “That’s a very sweet offer.”
“But it would be weird. I understand.”
Graham cringed. “Was I that obvious?”
Renata smiled, even more kindly than before, if that was possible. “It was silly of me to invite you. Or, thoughtless, at least. You know, if it counts for anything, we’re both still pulling for you.”
Graham couldn’t see how things would work themselves out, but she wasn’t ready to give up hope. Not yet. “It does.”
“Are you waiting for Mat to apologize?”
Was she? Yes, but it was more than that. “It’s more about her deciding what we have means enough to her.”
Renata nodded. “That makes sense. Well, if there’s anything either of us can do, just say the word.”
Graham realized in that moment how much Dom and Renata had come to mean to her. Before she could do anything about it, her eyes filled and a couple of tears spilled over. “Thanks.”
“Oh, honey.” Renata set her basket down and threw her arms around Graham.
The gesture made Graham cry harder, but also laugh. When Renata let go, Graham wiped her eyes and sniffed. “God, I’m such a sad sack.”
Renata pointed at her. “You are not. You’re smart and strong and the best thing that’s happened to Mat in like forever.”
Graham sniffed again. “I wish she thought so.”
“She does. She’s just stubborn. It’s a trait that runs in the family.”
Graham nodded. She thought about Dom’s way of going about things, as well as what she knew of Mat’s parents. “Yeah.”
Renata picked her basket up. “Are you going to be okay?”
For the second time that day, Graham straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I will be. I still have no idea what to make for dinner, but yes. I’m okay.”
Renata hooked an arm though hers. “That’s easy. Come with me.”
An hour later, Graham was back home with the makings for a simple, hearty soup.
She started chopping vegetables, following Renata’s instructions exactly. It was a small step toward feeling normal, but she’d take it. She also took the threads of hope Renata had offered her. She needed to be realistic, but she wanted to believe that Renata—and Dom—had insight into Mat that she didn’t.
Jess came home from work and didn’t even try to hide her enthusiasm that Graham was up and about and seemed more like herself. Graham didn’t know if it was the soup or the vote of confidence from Renata, but as she sat at the little kitchen table with Jess eating the best meal she’d ever made herself, Graham felt warm, inside and out.
* * *
Mat didn’t hear from Graham after they fought. She didn’t hear from her the next day, either. Or the day after that. She cajoled Dom into going out with her to haul in another set of traps. The air was cold and damp and biting. By the end, they were both miserable and cranky.
She didn’t sleep. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She slept in small, fitful bursts that brought dreams of being lost in dense fog. Each time she woke, her sheets tangled around her body in a way that told her the sleep had been anything but restful. In the morning, she drank the better half of a pot of coffee, adding a sour stomach to her generally sorry state. She needed to get out of the house, put her mind on anything but the fact that she had absolutely no idea what to do. She needed to be out on the water.
Mat contemplated calling Dom, but that would entail him trying to make her feel better. She didn’t want to inflict that on him, or herself. She looked at the weather. Cold, but nothing more than cloudy skies and a brisk breeze. Yes, she’d told Dom she wouldn’t go out alone again. But she was desperate. She wouldn’t go far, or for long. It was more about being on the water at this point than hauling traps. She needed that, needed the wind and the sea to take her mind off the colossal mess she’d made of her life.
Having a plan took a little of the edge off. She got dressed and, even though she didn’t want it, made a peanut butter sandwich. After locking her door, she looked up at Dom’s apartment, as though he might be watching and catch her sneaking off. But there was no movement in the windows. He and Renata were probably still curled together in bed, naked and warm.
Her mind instantly went to Graham, to the last morning they’d woken up together. Less than a week had passed, but in some ways, it felt like ages ago. Mat tried to shake off the memory, the visceral longing that, if she let it, could bring her to her knees.
One foot in front of the other, she made it to her truck and climbed in. The streets were quiet, the morning misty and gray. Even the pier had little traffic. Many of the yachts and small leisure boats had already been pulled out of the water for the season. The few that remained were lifeless, awaiting their own hibernation.
Mat didn’t worry about bait or the other things she’d usually take care of on a work day. If she couldn’t haul traps, she wouldn’t have to worry about breaking her promise to Dom. Maybe she’d do a little fishing. It was a hobby she rarely had time for, but one she enjoyed on occasion.
She powered up the engine and maneuvered out of her slip. The temperature had taken yet another dip and the clouds were low. She wouldn’t be surprised if they had snow within the week. Despite the biting cold, the air felt good on her face. The sharpness of it demanded her attention, keeping her thoughts away from her parents and the shitty choices she’d made in her life. And Graham.
If this was any other moment in Mat’s life, any other woman, she’d have already washed her hands of it and walked away. Even now, even with Graham, that had a certain appeal. But just as her mind would start down that path, her chest would tighten and she’d feel the stirrings of what she could only describe as a panic attack. It was unfamiliar territory, and unnerving.
It wasn’t even a matter of apologizing. No, she didn’t relish saying she was sorry, but she wasn’t one of those ridiculously stubborn people who loathed the very idea. She just didn’t know exactly what she would be apologizing for. Overreacting, sure. But Graham was mad about a lot more than that. She wanted and expected more than Mat had been willing to give. Even if she fell to her knees and professed her undying love to Graham, Mat wasn’t sure it would be enough.
That’s what frightened her most. What if she went through the motions, said and did all the right things, and it still wasn’t enough? What if Graham wanted more out of life than Mat could offer?
Realizing she’d once again slipped down a rabbit hole of questions and doubt, Mat shifted the engine to idle. She checked the GPS and noted she’d gone a bit farther than she’d intended. In spite of her sorry state, she chuckled at herself. At the rate she was going, she’d wash ashore in Boston before she pulled her head out of her ass.
She went below deck in search of one of the fishing poles she kept and a lure. Ten minutes later, she was positioned at the back of the boat with a line in the water. The rhythmic letting out and pulling in soothed her and she lost track of time. Nothing was biting, but she didn’t really care.
When a large gust of wind almost knocked her over, Mat looked around. The sky had darkened, at least to the west. Probably time to call it a day. Even if it wasn’t an actual storm, she didn’t want to deal with getting soaked and slapped around by choppy waves.
Mat pulled in her line and stowed the pole. She hadn’t found any answers, but she’d managed to settle her mind a bit. Regardless of what came next, at this point, she’d take it.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Graham looked at her phone and frowned. Dom. Probably trying to play matchmaker again. Or, perhaps at this point, a better description would be mediator. She almost let it go to voice mail, but relented. It wasn’t his fault Mat was being so stubborn and everything was a mess. “Hello.”
“Damn it.”
Graham pulled the phone away and checked the screen, as if that might explain the expletive in place of a greeting, then returned it to her ear. “Um, you’re the one who called me.”
“Sorry.” Dom’s voice was thick with tension. “I was half-hoping you wouldn’t answer because it might mean you were with Mat.”
“Well, to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn’t frozen over, so no. She’s still avoiding me. What’s going on?”
“I think she might have taken the boat out alone again and there’s a band of thunderstorms coming that weren’t in the forecast.”
Graham processed the words, but it took a minute for their meaning to sink in. A knot of panic gripped her stomach. “Why would she be out alone?”
“She pulled this on me a few weeks ago. I thought we’d come to an agreement, but the Paquette isn’t in its slip.”
“Wait. Pulled what?” Graham understood what he was saying, but part of her brain lagged. Perhaps if she focused on the specifics, she could hold the possibilities at bay. She didn’t like the possibilities that were already lurking at the edges on her mind.
“She’s been sullen and antsy. But she didn’t,” Dom’s voice cracked slightly, “want to tear me away from Renata. She went hauling by herself. I flipped out and she said she wouldn’t do it again.”
Graham nodded, although there was no one to see. “Okay. So what makes you think she would go against her word?”
“The boat’s gone and no one can get a hold of her.”
Right. Crap. “Would she really put herself in danger?”
“Normally, no.”
The implication hung in the air. Things weren’t normal. Because of her. “What can I do?”
“Nothing at the moment. Especially panic. I’m going to head to the pier, see if I can get her on the radio. She might be completely fine and on her way in.”
Or not. Graham thought about their last conversation. Mat had been angry, although it felt like that anger was directed more at the world than at her. But more than that, Graham sensed defeat. It was the latter that worried her now. People who felt like they had nothing to lose had a tendency to do stupid and reckless things. “I’ll meet you there.”
“
You don’t have to—”
“I’ll meet you there.”
Graham threw on clothes and left her apartment without looking back. Walking gave way to a jog and, by the time she hit the center of town, she’d broken into a full run. When she finally reached the harbor master’s office, her legs ached and her lungs screamed for oxygen. She took a minute to catch her breath, afraid she’d burst in and be unable to speak. Talk about sowing panic. That minute gave her enough time to look over to where Mat’s boat should be. The slip was empty.
A few others were, too. That made her feel a sliver better, like Mat wasn’t out on treacherous seas alone. She also glanced at the sky. There were a few dark clouds to the west, but the sun shone and only a light breeze rustled the flags on the other boats in the harbor. Maybe Dom was overreacting. Please let him be overreacting.
“Hey.” Dom appeared next to her.
“Hi.” He seemed neither out of breath nor panicked. But his eyes held a shadow of worry. “Have you talked with Stuart yet?”
Graham shook her head. “I just got here.”
Dom nodded. “Okay. I’m sorry if I got you all upset. That wasn’t my intention.”
“You didn’t.” She realized she was lying. “I mean, I’m glad you did. Told me. I’m glad I’m here.”
He nodded again and headed into the office. Graham followed. She looked around. Such an important part of what kept the harbor safe and running smoothly, yet in the two years she’d worked off MacMillan Pier, she’d never been inside. That was probably true for most of her colleagues on the Dolphin Fleet, a fact that made her kind of sad. She shook off the feeling to focus on the task at hand.
She tuned into the conversation Dom was having with Stuart. He seemed calm, and she was pretty sure no one had uttered the words Coast Guard. That had to be a good thing. Stuart turned his attention to the panel of equipment that sat along one wall of his office. He turned a few knobs, then spoke into a microphone, calling to the Paquette and asking her location.