“I love your hair,” she told Greta, admiring her long blond braid. “You’ve got this great Boho vibe going.”
“I hope you loved the food as well?” Greta asked. “As the bride, you’re my most important client.”
Sissy flashed her high-wattage smile. “Oh yes! The tuna was my favorite at first, but I have to say the spinach outdid it. And Ihatevegetables. And those tomatoes… Oh. My. God.”
“That credit goes to our talented gardener,” Greta said, glancing at the window. “Oh, there he is!” She turned back to Sissy. “It would be nice if he heard this. He’s more of a behind-the-scenes kind of guy, you know what I mean?”
Sissy nodded dramatically. “I knowexactlywhat you mean. Call him in! I’ll tell him myself.”
Linus elbowed Holly. Things were getting better and better.
They all watched as Greta hurried to the side door and waved Oliver down. “I’d like you to meet someone,” she called.
A moment later Oliver’s tall frame filled the doorway. Greta, smiling ear to ear, turned to make introductions. She didn’t need to, it turned out.
When Oliver spotted Sissy Sutton, his mouth fell open.
Sissy gasped. “Ollie!”
“Ollie?” Confused, Greta looked between them.
“Oh my God,” Sissy shrieked. “Ollie! It’s really you.”
Then, before any of them understood what was happening, Sissy Sutton closed the distance between them, threw herself against Oliver’s chest, and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Ben
He steered the barge away from the boat launch and out toward the bay. The tide was coming in. If anyone had walked through his law office door a few months ago and told him he’d be trading his pristine view of the Providence Riverwalk for the bow of an oyster barge in Massachusetts, he’d have said they were off their rocker. And yet here he was. Ben steered the barge around and motored out to the nursery where Jonah’s juvenile oysters were growing.
He should’ve known when his brother called him last year asking for legal advice. “What mess did you step in?” Ben had asked. It was unlike Jonah to ask for help.
Then, Jonah was living in the Pacific Northwest, far from the rest of their family in New England. Growing up, Jonah was never an indoor or sit-still kind of kid, so it was little surprise when he decided to go to ranger school and later took a job out in Washington at one of the parks. While there, he reconnected with an old school friend who was starting up an oyster farm in Puget Sound. Eager for a change, Jonah decided to joinhim and spent the next three years learning oyster husbandry and aquaculture. When he called one day last spring, Ben knew something was up. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Jonah told him. “But I think I’m about to.”
Jonah was homesick for the East Coast. “I’ve been keeping my eye out for opportunities closer to you, Mom, and Dad. Remember the shellfish company in Chatham?”
Ben didn’t, not really. “You mean the Chatham Pier Fish Market?”
“No, I mean the farm on Oyster River. The business is for sale. I want to buy it and transfer the grant for the flats.”
Though he missed his brother and relished the idea of him moving back east, Ben was not so sure about this idea. The whole family had been waiting for Jonah to eventually come around to some kind of a desk job, something stable and less grueling. “Are you serious?”
“Why not?” Jonah had said. “It’ll be an adventure.” If Ben was worried about his younger brother taking on a business in an industry he’d only ever heard Jonah talk about during Christmas visits (though the plump oysters he brought home were quite the perk!), the legalities of doing so proved even more worrying. Though Chatham Oysters was indeed for sale, transferring the land lease from the town to a new owner was subject to all kinds of regulations. Obtaining the permits and town approval would be an adventure in itself.
“The last time we spoke, you mentioned taking a leave. You’ve been burned out at the firm for a while now.”
“I’m not burned out,” Ben had insisted.
“Let me ask you this. Are you happy?”
“Pull up along the left side of the FLUPSY,” Jonah called back to him now, standing at the head of the deck. The floating upweller system was where juvenile oysters were grown from seed. Some days Ben was still overwhelmed by how much he had yet to learn. He had three months to figure it out before the firm expected him back.
He waited while Jonah hopped off the barge and onto the deck to inspect the silos, lifting and closing lids as he went. Inside each watery bin were hundreds and hundreds of baby oysters. They required daily inspection.
“Too much algae again?” Ben called. It had been the running concern that week. Each week it seemed there was something.
“They look good, actually,” Jonah reported. “Since I got the pump sorted, the flow rate seems better.” Satisfied, he hopped back on the barge. “Alright, back to the dock.”
