I smiled. He loved calling me the names of famous nurses. It was cheesy, but it was cute. Such a “dad” thing to do.
“Daddy, I had an abandoned baby on my very first day of work.”
He let out a low whistle. “No way, kiddo. In Cape Carolina?”
“Can you believe that?”
I walked quickly to my car, looking around, aware of my surroundings. Dusk was falling on Cape Carolina, but it wasn’t dark yet. And then I remembered: Crime rates were almost nonexistent here. Of course, it always paid to be vigilant. Even so, I felt myself relax.
“So what do you do?”
Take her home, I thought. I shook my head, trying to snap myself out of it because, frankly, thatiswhat I wanted to do. Take her home and love her to pieces forever and always. But I would not, because nurses didn’t take home babies, and, um, it was against thelaw.
“Well, we hope they find her parents, but, I mean, Dad, they left her in a dumpster behind a high school. What kind of parents could those even be?”
He made a low, one-syllable noise that I recognized. We knew people left their kids all the time. We’d lived it. “Well, all I know is that she’s lucky to have you taking care of her.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said. And then he asked, as I knew he would, “So, when are you coming home?”
“Coming home?” I asked. “Dad, I live at the beach. When are you cominghere?”
“Well, honey, I thought you’d never ask.”
“Want to come break in my new guest room? Over Easter, maybe?”
He paused, and I knew what he was thinking. I unlocked the car and climbed inside, realizing I didn’t have the energy to go to thegrocery store. Fortunately, Laura had told me about a great grab-and-go place with salads and homemade pastas and casseroles that didn’t close until eight.
“Daddy!” I scolded. “It isEaster. You can close the body shop for a few days. Ask Phil to fill in for you.” Phil was my uncle, who, like a sensible person, had retired when it was time. Still, I understood my dad’s reluctance to do the same. What would he do? He’d be all alone. He could move here, of course, but I knew without asking that he would never leave the family land he’d lived on all his life in a small town just an hour and a half from here.
He sighed. “I’ll come sometime soon. I promise. Deal?”
“Deal,” I said.
I knew Easter was one of his busiest weeks of the year and a visit then was a long shot. But I had to try.
“Now, you text me when you’re home safe tonight.”
“I will, Dad. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I pulled into the market parking lot, suddenly deciding I needed soup. The phone call from my dad had helped. But, thinking of Jane Doe, with no parents coming to visit her, made me feel suddenly cold. But I couldn’t get this caught up in every patient, I reminded myself. Tonight, I would go home, eat my soup, and get myself situated, find a workout class that would fit into my schedule. Maybe I’d sign up for a painting or pottery class if I could find one. Making new friends, getting into a routine, and creating a life I loved here was my top priority right now. I had always just adored this beach. Now it was up to me to make it feel like home.
MASONOpen Water
Five a.m. gets earlier all the time,” my buddy Robbie said as he poured three cups of coffee from a large Yeti thermos and handed one to me and one to my brother Parker.
The diesel engines rumbled, as Parker, from the captain’s chair on the bridge, shifted them into gear. I loved watching the sunrise from the water. I loved seeing the horizon burst open with light, the sea suddenly in vivid color.
“Nah,” I said. “This is when five is great. You know when five sucks?”
Parker took a sip of his coffee and nodded. “Yup. When you’ve been out all night, and you’re just falling asleep as the birds start chirping.”
We all groaned. “That is the worst,” Robbie said.
Down below, in the salon of the 1993 Jarrett Bay that was our dad’s pride and joy, the ten boys who could come this morning were wrapped in blankets on the floor and the couches. They slept as we made our forty-mile run out to sea. When my mom painstakingly chose the striped Sunbrella cushions and white quartz countertops, I doubted that she had this in mind.
“It is the worst,” I agreed. “But this? This is the best. My best buddies, the open water, our old boat, my favorite players…”
