Sam and I exchange a look, having an entire unspoken conversation. We need to get the hell out of here, and fast—before anything else bizarre can happen.
Jo rounds the end of the diner’s counter with our plates in hand, but Sam stands and I follow, throwing a few twenties on the table. We don’t walk to leave, rather, we sprint and don’t look back until we’re tucked safely into the cab of his truck.
"Are you going to tell her?" he asks, turning the ignition and barreling out of the lot.
"Should I? She might be mad that I confronted Jo."
Sam taps his fingers on the top of the steering wheel. "Not that… although you have to explain in case she hears about it. I meant that you’re in love with her."
"I’m not in—"
"Yes, you are." He pulls to a stop sign, turning to look at me. "She’s your Mabel. We all know it."
My brother's words hit me like a lightning bolt. I’ve known I’m falling for Sadie. That’s not a question. But having Sam confirm it, having him acknowledge that she’s my once in a lifetime, makes my heart hurt. How—if that’s true—am I ever going to let her go? How am I going to move half a world away?
Walking down the weathered dock at the marina, the boats in their slips bob in the water all around us. Some are gigantic yachts, while others are small skippers meant for fishing. Sadietakes it all in, her gaze lingering on some of the bigger boats like she can’t believe they even exist.
"Is it that one?" Sadie points to a sleek black Benetti that costs more money than I could make in a lifetime.
"Yep." I step toward the ramp that leads to the state-of-the-art boat, and her eyes widen comically. "I can totally afford this on private lessons and the volunteer work I do at the rink."
Sadie laughs, pulling my arm so that I’m forced to step back beside her. "Okay, I can see that was a dumb question. I think I’m a little mixed up after the wedding that was fit for the Duchess of Sussex."
"Who?"
"Nevermind… which boat is yours?"
We mosey a little further until my sailboat comes into view. It’s mid-size, painted a rich navy with amber-stained wood.
"Here she is." I spread my arms out wide, motioning toward the boat. "Got her when Pap passed away. He taught me to sail when I was little, and I loved spending the summers on the water with him."
"Max…" Sadie trails off as she takes it in. "This is beautiful. And so meaningful. Thank you for sharing it with me."
Pulling her into my arms, I kiss her forehead. "I usually spend the holiday watching fireworks alone. It never felt right to bring someone with me after we lost him four years ago. But I want you to see it. They’re magical when you’re lying on the deck watching the bursts of color float across the sky."
Sadie squeezes my arm and raises onto her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. There’s always been a height difference between us, but it’s more significant in flip-flops than in the heels she typically wears. "How did you name it?"
My eyes shift to the golden script adorning the stern. To me, she’s always beenThe Josephine—I never really asked why.
"I didn’t," I start. "My grandfather never discussed the name, only told us it was named after our great-great-great-grandmother."
A whirring breath releases from Sadie’s lips. "Oh, thank God. I was worried for a second that this was another trick. That Beth was going to interfere in our day somehow."
We step up onto the ramp, slipping onto the back of the boat with ease. As I do my pre-checks, my mind wanders to what she said. I’ve never put together the matching names with Josephine from 1793, but after this morning, it seems the woman is a prominent figure in my life—at least today.
Securing the ropes and working to make sure the anchor is pulled up, I watch as Sadie looks around the small interior cabin before making her way to the bow of my boat. She looks right here, like she belongs. With each steady step she takes, each time she runs her hand along the safety bar that runs the length of the vessel, she seems sure of herself, not afraid of this new adventure.
Sadie finishes her self-led tour, taking a seat in the cockpit next to me as I pull the lines out of their cleats and off their winches—making sure there aren't any bindings in them. I attach the sails, both main and jib, and turn on the motor after detaching the dock lines to guide us out of the marina.
"You know I saw her today…"
"Who?"
"Josephine." I use the wooden wheel to steer us out into open water, positioning us toward the wind to hoist the sails. "At the diner with Sam. We, uh, talked."
"About pancakes?" Sadie nibbles her bottom lip as she runs her fingers up the main sheet. "She’s not really a talker."
"No, I asked her about her sisters." My gut churns with doubt—I was probably crossing a line. "I confronted her."
