Page 100 of Hearts on the Line

My mom flutters back and forth around the house, tidying up little piles of magazines, asking if anyone wants a drink.

Sloane is on the back deck with Wally, but I don’t know what else to do. I feel helpless.

Merritt’s Catch Lobster Co. has been deemed a total loss.

My dad hangs up the phone, sighs, then tosses it down. There are stacks of papers everywhere. My dad’s phone rings again. Newspapers and news stations are hungry for interviews and quotes. Sloane helped draft a statement, but at some point, we’re going to need to do an interview.

It’s past noon when Jack comes downstairs. He stretches, yawns, and heads to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. I hate how he’s so relaxed about everything that’s happened in the past forty-eight hours. He was always able to be flexible. And I hate fucking change.

“Anyone want to play UNO?” Nana shuffles in from the living room.

“No, Ma,” my dad calls out.

Annie snickers from the armchair, her laptop balanced on her thighs as she tears into a bagel. “Dad, she’s just trying to help.”

I stop sorting through the stack of papers. “I’m sorry you and Mom had to come back early.”

My mom walks over and pats my cheek. “It wasn’t your fault, Ethan. None of this is your fault. Do you understand me?”

She can tell me that all she wants, but in my gut, I feel like it was my fault. It’s been one thing after another all summer at the restaurant, and if I’d paid closer attention, maybe I would have figured out it wasn’t the fryer or refrigeration leak, but a wiring issue with an old, faulty outlet box.

I thought I was going to die inside that fire, and all I could think of was Sloane. How I didn’t want to leave her that way.

“So, what’s going on?” Jack says with his cup of coffee.

“There’s a lot of paperwork to do,” my dad answers. “We’ll figure it out.”

“And the traps?” Jack asks.

“I’m going out on the boat later,” I tell him. “I’ll sell the lobsters at the market or to the restaurants in town for now, and we’ll take it from there.”

“What do we need to do to rebuild?” Jack asks.

“Wait for the insurance claim.” My mom floats back inside, this time her hands full of plants she’s been giving baths to in the kitchen sink.

I wish she’d just stay still.

“Well, tell me what you need and I’ll help,” Jack says. “I can give you the money.”

My dad whirls around on my brother. “I won’t take a dime of your money for the restaurant.”

Jack scoffs. “I don’t see why not⁠—”

“Dad,” Annie cuts in, “he wants to help.”

“Has anyone gotten a hold of Nolan?” Nana calls out next.

“No!” we all yell back in unison.

My older brother, ironically, is fighting wildfires out west, and I haven’t been able to get in touch with him. He hasn’t been home in years, so I don’t really know if he’ll care. Still, I feel like it’s pretty big news that the place our great-grandfather built is gone.

I head into the kitchen and pour myself another cup of coffee, then pause at the doorway. Outside, Sloane is leaning up against Wally, both of them staring at the tide coming in on the beach.

I step out to join her, sinking down beside her on the step. She takes a sip of my coffee without asking, hands it back, and rests against my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her and pull her in close.

“First day off in years,” I mutter, “and it’s because the fucking restaurant burned down.”

“Could be worse,” she says softly. She doesn’t explain, but she doesn’t have to. “How’s it going in there?”