“Thanks.”
An hour and a test run out on the open water later, I’m satisfied the old girl is fit as a fiddle. We head back to the house for a bite of lunch. The lamp is overdue for a clean, and I’m sure I could use the solace of the lantern room. Em sits at the table as Evie comes down the stairs.
“How’s the boat?” she says, dropping into the chair by Emmett.
He pulls off his cap and grips it between his hands. “Running good. You’d be ready for a trip to the mainland by now?”
“I guess.” She couldn’t look less excited about getting off the island if she tried. Something like hope tumbles around my gut, sparking against the cast-iron walls I’ve built over the years. Her eyes connect with mine as I assemble the sandwiches and she asks, “Need a hand in the garden later?”
“If you have time. How’s the words coming along?”
“Two thousand for this morning. So I’m all yours.”
Her face changes as her own words register, and she clamps that bottom lip between her teeth.
I plate up the food and carry it to the table. Emmett takes a plate from my hand and slides it to Evie. She says a quiet thank you before taking a tentative bite. Those small moments where she shrinks into herself have become fewer. Watching her uncertainty around Emmett takes me back to those early weeks.
“Well,” Em starts, swallowing before he continues. “If you two have plans, I’ll make myself scarce.”
“No, you don’t have to—” Evie starts.
“No, bud—” I say at the same time.
The easy connection Evie and I had last night and this morning is strained.
Emmett stands. “I really should be getting back. Errol will have my balls for wasting half a day already.”
I roll my eyes. “Fuck Errol.”
Em laughs. “Only you can get away with saying that, McCreary.”
Only because Errol’s respect for me is nonexistent. Em plucks up his cap and slides it onto his head. It matches his Coast Guard uniform. Less the grease from his side hustle of marine mechanic, that is.
“Bye, Emmett,” Evie pipes up with a small wave.
“See you round, Miss Evie.” His gaze alternates between us for a moment before it lingers on me and he’s out the door.
I finish my food as Evie takes small bites of hers. Her attention is stuck on the front door.
Good. She should be thinking about leaving.
Sweeping the crumbs on my plate to one side and contemplating life, I change my mind. “I have to head up to the lantern room for a bit. We can get out to the garden in a couple of hours.”
“Okay. Can I help with the lamp?” Hopeful browns glide to me.
“I got it. You do your research or whatever you need to.”
She huffs a small breath, and her cheeks turn pink. “Yeah, I still have to get to that.”
I raise an eyebrow, but she doesn’t elaborate. I take her plate and my own, placing them by the sink before heading up the stairs. Glancing into the bedroom as I pad by, I take the treads two at a time to the lantern room. As clean as the bright space is, today it feels dirty. Most likely it’s all in my head. I tug open the small door to the cleaning and polishing gear and get to work. I make a start on the louvered outer glass first.
When that shines, letting the midday sun’s rays pierce my vision, I turn back and select the polishing cloth for the Fresnel itself. The huge light catches dust and tiny particles in its awkward angles. I spend extra time and care on the heart of my home. My entire reason for being here. Without this old lamp, this overgrown light bulb, my purpose here is null and void.
With the navigational technology on modern boats, lighthouses are an outdated coastal feature. Maybe I am, too. This whole Evie situation has me all up in my head. The woe-is-me is riding my ass hard.
Snap the fuck out of it.
My life will simply return to what it was before her.
