“You should’ve done that at the beginning.” Aldana glanced at the others. “Somebody tell me I’m wrong.”
Despite their evident anger, and Jenna’s silence, Noah had the distinct sense of having turned a corner. Despite his mistakes. Despite everything. They were, and would remain, his friends. He had no reason to feel his world was intact again. Just the same, he felt it was time to seat himself. Join the group. And say, “I’ve been fighting old battles.”
“Shadowboxing with old ghosts,” Amos said. “I’ve done that myself from time to time.”
“Don’t you let him off easy,” Aldana told her husband. “Don’t you dare.”
“Who said anything about letting him off? But what he just said, what he’s seeing, you got to admit it’s a step in the right direction.”
Aldana smoldered, then, “Okay, maybe a teeny tiny one.”
Noah said, “The temptation to see today through the lens of yesterday is almost too great. Which is why I want Jenna to take over the controlling interest.”
Aldana demanded, “You better not be talking just about that boat.”
“No, I’m not.”
Which was when Jenna reached over and took his hand. The act was so natural, so unexpected, he struggled to take it in. He stared at her fingers in his and decided this was what it felt like to hope again. This was the reality of a second chance.
Jenna said, “Noah and I have talked things over.”
“Mostly she talked and I listened,” Noah said. “After I got the apology out of the way.”
Aldana snorted. “You don’t get off that easy, mister. This apology of yours, we’re talking years.”
Noah looked at the hand holding his. “Yes, we are.”
“About Noah’s offer,” Jenna told them. “I turned him down.”
“Actually,” Noah said, “Jenna came up with something better.”
Jenna told them, “We want you to have five percent of the boat.”
For the first time that day, every last vestige of their hostility just up and vanished.
Amos asked, “You’re giving us five percent?”
Noah loved how this reason to smile reshaped his mouth, his face, his heart. Just loving it.
“No,” Jenna said. “We’re giving you five percent each.”
“This boat, this project, what we do next,” Noah said. “It all comes down to you. And us. Together.”
Jenna said, “You know what I need to say. We simply don’t have enough money to finish the rebuild.”
Zia broke in with, “We can help.”
“You’re already helping,” Noah said.
“Noah couldn’t have come close to where we are without you guys,” Jenna said.
“But that’s not the issue,” Noah said. “Well, okay, it’s part of the issue. But you need to understand, after the rebuild comes the running costs. Insurance, fuel, upkeep, the list goes on and on.”
“Rebuilding this boat has been a family affair,” Jenna said. “That’s what you are. Family.”
“And that’s how we need to decide on next steps,” Noah said. “As a family.”
The silence lasted until Amos started making tight little jerks. As if he was trying to suppress a cough. Or something.
