Now all she could do was wait and see how Kyle would respond.
IfKyle would respond.
Chapter Three
Mitch had gone for his run, showered, and eaten breakfast. Nothing fancy this morning, just eggs and sausage with a side of toast spread with jam from the farmer’s market.
Joyce had been bustling about, prepping food for later, cleaning, doing laundry, airing out the guest rooms. For what reason, Mitch had no idea, but he supposed she felt the need to do as much as possible, since he was paying to fly her sister over.
He wasn’t doing it to get more work out of her or make her feel indebted to him in some way. Joyce already did a lot for him. Nearly everything that needed doing. She honestly kept him alive. She’d done so much for him and Jeanie. And Kyle. Flying Joyce’s sister over was just something he felt compelled to do for her. It was the best way he knew to show her his appreciation.
She’d been too busy to chat more than a few words this morning, which was fine. He understood. He’d be writing later, and he wouldn’t want to be disturbed then, but he had something else that needed taking care of first.
The boat.
It was his own fault for deciding, in a moment of what now seemed like overenthusiastic foolishness, that it would be a goodidea to take everyone out on it. He’d had a good day and was feeling better than he had in a while, and he’d acted impulsively.
He needed to be better about that. He was so unused to being happy that experiencing it felt like a kind of intoxication.
Now, as he drove his golf cart to the Hideaway Bay Marina, he realized he probably wouldn’t be able to go through with this boating excursion.
The boat had been Jeanie’s thing. Which wasn’t to say he didn’t like it. He did. It was a great boat and they’d spent a ridiculous amount of money on it, but he hadn’t cared. Making Jeanie happy was all that had mattered.
He’d loved spending time on it with her and Kyle. Jeanie had been in her element on the water. She loved watching for dolphins, standing at the bow to let the spray wash over her, or even just napping on the deck while the waves rocked her into a dreamy state of bliss. She took tons of photos, some of which they’d blown up and had framed.
With Joyce’s help, she’d pack a cooler with a picnic lunch and lots of snacks and drinks. There was nothing she loved more than when Mitch abandoned his laptop to take her and Kyle out for the day.
Kyle often fished when they went out. Or sometimes, he’d hook up the tube and take a ride behind the boat.
Usually, they’d explore the river, but once in a while, they’d head out to the ocean. They’d snorkel if the water conditions were right.
After Kyle had left for college, Mitch and Jeanie tried to get out early every few weeks to watch the sunrise with a steaming thermos of coffee. Those mornings had been truly extraordinary. Just the two of them, watching the sun paint the sky in vivid pinks and oranges, feeling like no one else in the world existed.
He’d give anything for one more morning like that.
But it would never happen again, and he knew it. The knowledge sat in his gut like a stone, cold and heavy. His memory of their last outing was almost too painful to recall. They’d both known it was their last time together on the boat.
They’d sat and watched the water, her in his arms, both of them tearful and quiet and unable to do more than cling to each other.
How was he supposed to get on that boat again? How was he supposed to entertain on that boat now? But canceling on his friends didn’t feel doable. Tomorrow was going to be a miserable day.
The memories of Jeanie played in his head as he pulled onto Marina Lane. He drove past the short stretch of hedges marking the entrance, and parked. He was surprised there weren’t more golf carts in the lot. It was a beautiful day. The perfect day to be on the water.
But then again, not everyone had the luxury of working from home as he did. Of course, how many beautiful days had passed him by? Days he’d been oblivious to anything but his own grief. More than he wanted to count.
He climbed out of the golf cart, dropping the keys into the pocket of his shorts.
Kai Shuster stepped out of the marina’s office, squinting at Mitch like he wasn’t sure who he was seeing. Then his eyes widened, and he waved. “Mr. Ripley! Hey! Nice to see you.”
Mitch raised his hand in greeting. “Morning.”
Kai was the marina master and had been for at least the last seven or eight years. He looked exactly like what he was: A beach bum-surfer-boat enthusiast. He was perpetually tan, wiry and lean, and never seemed to be without his puka shell necklace or braided fisherman’s bracelet.
From what Mitch knew about him, he’d done a stint in the Coast Guard, but had injured his shoulder and been releasedwith an honorable medical discharge. He’d lived all over Florida but had settled here when he’d gotten the job in Hideway Bay.
Kai grinned and ran his hand through his sun-bleached hair. “Haven’t seen you around here in a while.”
Mitch shook his head. “Haven’t been around here in a while. How’s the boat?” He paid Kai, like several of the other residents of Hideaway Bay did, to maintain the craft.
