The senior residents of Pleasure Point, including my parents, grumbled and groaned like a chorus of disgruntled whales, but one by one, they begrudgingly abandoned ship and shuffled back to land. As the last tuft of gray hair disappeared around the corner, I turned to Joy with a heavy sigh and said, "Thanks for handling that. Now, I'm off to reclaim my precious sleep."
Joy blocked my exit with her body. “No way, friend. Remember what you and Brock did when I was wallowing in misery?”
I laughed at the memory of her Cozy Burrito Bed she made while hiding on my houseboat. We had given her time to grieve the loss of her relationship while her now-fiancé fixed things between them. Brock and I didn’t make it easy for her to stay on board. And I had a sneaking suspicion payback would be a bitch.
I said that last part out loud.
“Bish, please.” Joy rolled her eyes. “I’m not in this for payback. I’m worried about you.”
I sighed, walked back into the houseboat's living area, and plopped down on the couch. “Not this again.”
“Yes,” Joy said as she sat next to me. “This again.”
“It’s nothing to worry about. Really. I’m fine. Fine. The man I am in love with is marrying someone else. Again. I wasn’t fast enough this time, either.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I wasn’t enough.”
“Kendra,” Joy snapped. “Look at me.”
I slowly opened my eyes. “What? Is this where you tell me I am good enough and smart enough?”
“Yes. All of those. And then some,” Joy agreed. “I know you’ve been friends with him a long time. But you and I have been friends longer than that. I have watched you both since the friendship began. You’re seeing everything with rose-colored glasses. And when you see things clearly, you’ll realize that this is a blessing.”
“Oh, yeah. Good times.Hashtag blessed. I am once again overlooked in the love department,” I grumbled.
“Has it ever occurred to you that you keep trying to open a door that’s closed for a reason? That it’s the wrong door?”
“Your metaphors suck this morning.”
Joy blew out a breath, causing her dark bangs to fly around her face. “Listen to me, Kendra. You’re an amazing woman, just as you are. If Jesse doesn’t see that, he’s not the one for you. You want the man who worships the ground you walk on and will do anything for you.”
I squeezed my friend’s hand. She was in love. Recently fallen in love, to be exact. Of course, she thought every last thing was sunshine and roses. “Joy, I love you. But not all of us have been lucky in the love department. And not everyone is meant to be in a relationship. Maybe that’s my lot in life? Maybe I’m meant to sail off into the sunset by myself.”
“If that’s what you choose, I’ll support you,” Joy said. “No one is telling you to fall in love. But if you want love in your life, you must find the one who loves you just as you are. You are enough.”
I nodded and plastered a smile on my face. “You know what? You’re right. It is time to stop wallowing and get myself together. Thank you.”
She narrowed her eyes at me but leaned in for a hug anyway. Tears stung the back of my eyeballs, and my throat felt scratchy, likely from the smoke inhalation. But there was something else.
I pulled back and sniffed the air, detecting a skunky herbal odor filling the cabin. It was a smell that belonged to only one person on this island.
“Uh, Captain Dudette?” Ziggy - no one knows his last name - shuffled through the open door of my houseboat and thrust a piece of paper into my hands. “Here.”
“What’s this?” I glanced at the title. It was some sort of job posting.
“This is your siren alarm, Captain Dudette,” Ziggy responded with a snicker as if I were the one high as a kite at 10:30 in the morning.
“I don’t need a job.”
“Maybe that light at the end of the tunnel is a train. And that train has sailed, Captain Dudette.” Ziggy nodded in satisfaction.
My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to make sense of Ziggy's words, a challenging task even on a typical day. The events of the previous night had left me feeling overwhelmed. I rubbed my forehead and looked at Ziggy, noting his long, untidy gray hair hanging over his thin shoulders. He wore board shorts and a tank top adorned with a crab smoking weed, looking like a character straight out of a quirky beach-themed comic book.
“Ziggy, I don’t need a job. I have a job. I’m the Captain of… well, I’ll be the Captain of the new-and-improvedNetfish and Chillsoon.”
“And I have no doubt you’ll run atight shipwreck.” Ziggy patted my head. “But in thenice time, you need to apply yourself. ‘Kay, dudettes. Gotta motor.”
And with that, the senior stoner of Pleasure Point ambled off my houseboat and headed deeper toward the docks.
“Where’s he going?” I asked Joy.
