By the time I pulled into Grandpa’s driveway, the sun hung high over the water, casting long shimmering streaks across the waves. But his truck was gone. So was the boat.
I paced along the dock, scanning the horizon. Sure enough, there they were—a small speck in the distance, drifting lazily. I clenched my jaw.
It took another twenty minutes before they returned. Celeste was clinging to Grandpa’s arm when they climbed out of the boat, her laughter carrying across the dock. Grandpa looked... happy. Relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Ethan!” he greeted as if nothing were out of the ordinary. “You should’ve come with us. The water was like glass out there.”
Celeste beamed at him. “Walter is a natural navigator. The sea is in his blood.”
I crossed my arms. “Funny, I thought common sense was in his blood, too.”
Grandpa laughed as if I’d made a joke. “Help me get this craft tied up.”
I stepped onto the dock, steadying the boat when Grandpa tossed me a rope. I secured it to the cleat while Grandpa grabbed the heavy netting from the deck. Together, we stretched it over the bow, anchoring it tightly to keep the sea lions at bay.
Grandpa grunted approvingly. “Those buggers won’t be lounging here tonight.”
“But will she?” I nodded at Celeste, who had made her way up the stairs. She crossed the lawn and headed for the house as if she already lived there.
Grandpa followed my gaze and chortled. “That’s none of your business, boy.” He trotted across the beach and climbed the stairs.
I followed.
The crunch of gravel signaled another arrival. I turned to see Mrs. Henderson stepping out of her old Buick, a bag of peaches in her arms. Her gaze flicked between Grandpa and Celeste, her expression tight.
“Thought you might like some fresh peaches, Walter,” she said, her voice a little too casual. “Just picked them this morning.”
Grandpa hesitated, then took the bag with a grateful nod. “That’s mighty kind of you, Millie.”
Celeste ignored Mrs. Henderson and turned to Grandpa with an air of urgency. “Walter, we must leave town. Tonight. The signs are clear. The doomsday fish is warning us.”
“It’s an oarfish,” I corrected. “Not a crystal ball.”
Celeste tightened her grip on his arm. “Walter, we have to go. The earth’s energy is shifting. I can feel it.Youcan feel it.”
I stared at Grandpa, waiting for him to tell her she was out of her mind. Instead, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe a little trip wouldn’t hurt.”
Mrs. Henderson’s shoulders slumped. “Walter, this is ridiculous.”
Celeste smiled like she’d already won. “You’ll see, all of you. Everything is about to change.”
Grandpa squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t worry, boy. This’ll all be over soon.”
I watched in stunned silence as my grandfather climbed into Celeste’s car. The engine rumbled to life, and they drove off, leaving a cloud of dust and the scent of fresh peaches in their wake.
Mrs. Henderson let out a long breath. “Well, I didn’t see that coming.”
I tightened my lips. “Maybe we should take up reading fish markings.”
*CLARE
I carefully arranged the flow blue pottery inside the armoire, stepping back to admire the way the deep cobalt patterns stood out against the soft, distressed wood. The pieces were old, delicate, and each one had a story. I traced my fingers along the rim of a teacup, wondering how many hands had held it before.
Mrs. Henderson bustled around the kitchen, rolling out dough on her worn wooden counter. The sweet scent of fresh peaches filled the air. “My dear, we’re a good team.”
I hesitated before answering. “I think so, too. Working on your house has been fun.”
Mrs. Henderson glanced up, her hands stilling. “I’m glad you think so. But you do know that this is only half of my house.”
