The Rest of the Story(77)

Silence as neither one of us confirmed or denied this. Finally I said, “He’s friends with Bailey.”

“Oh, right,” my dad said, as if I’d mentioned this before, which I hadn’t. “Small world. Oh, there’s Tracy.”

With that, he was walking down the dock to the Club, where I could now see my stepmother emerging, a basket hooked over one arm. Blake and I both watched him go, if only to not look at each other.

“So,” he said finally. “Um . . . how have you been?”

“You mean since you guys ditched us for Club Prom?”

He sighed. “Hey, I showed up. Remember?”

“Did you really expect me to leave Bailey, too, and come with you?”

“I don’t know!” He lowered his voice, stepping closer to me. “Look, what Colin does is his thing. Don’t hold it against me. What was I supposed to do?”

“Well,” I said as a motorboat approached, puttering, “you could have been honest with me so I could be honest with her. That would have been a start.”

“He’s my best friend,” he said. “And it was a crap situation. I’m sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Tell him to leave Bailey alone. It’s not cool that he’s calling her.”

“I know.” He slid his hands in his pockets. “But again, that’s him. Anything else?”

I considered this, looking at the boat beside us, sails still fluttering. “Declare this thing unseaworthy so I don’t have to go sailing?”

He cocked his head to the side. “It’s a lake, though. Not a sea.”

“Unlakeworthy, then,” I said, giving him a smile. “Help a girl out.”

“The thing is, I’m kind of here to help the guests get on the water, not hinder them,” he said. “Sorry.”

I shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“What about dinner?” he asked. “Tonight. Wherever you want, on me.”

Suddenly I’d gone from no plans to being in high demand. But again, he was not the person I was hoping would be doing the asking. “I can’t,” I said. “I have a party to go to.”

“For that girl Taylor?”

“You know about that?”

He nodded. “Rachel and Hannah are invited, too. Said we could come along.”

“Bailey will be there,” I warned him.

“I know. So does Colin. I think that’s why he’s going.” He sighed again. “Let me give you a ride, at least?”

I bit my lip a second, considering this. Blake wasn’t inherently a bad guy. As he’d said, he had showed up for Club Prom.

“Okay,” I said, and he grinned so quickly I was immediately angry at myself for making yet another thing simple for him. “A ride. But if Colin’s along, I’m out.”

“He won’t be,” he promised. “He’s covering the last couple of hours of a valet shift as a favor to someone. I’ll text you when I get off work?”

I nodded, just as my dad and Tracy stepped back onto the dock, now carrying the basket. “Okay.”

“Great,” he said. “And have fun out there. Just remember the first rule of sailing: duck when they tell you to.”

“Sounds like good advice for life in general,” I cracked.

“You’re funny,” he told me, as if he’d forgotten this. He turned to Tracy, holding out a hand. “Ready to board?”

She climbed on, stepping down by the rudder, and I followed without an assist. My dad handed over the basket, which Tracy took and put in the small covered cargo area while he jumped on as well.

“Feels so small after weeks on Artemis,” he said, gathering up the mainsheet as I found a seat on one of the flat cushioned areas. To me he added, “That was the boat we had in Athens. Forty-two-footer, slept six.”

“This is nice, too, though,” Tracy said, as if the boat might be offended. “Shall I go raise the front sail?”

“Yep,” my dad replied, busy futzing with the rudder. “I’ll get this one.”

With that, they were in motion, her jumping up to walk down the boat’s deck to the bow while he pulled the mainsail the rest of the way up. All around me, things were luffing, lines clanking, the side of the boat thumping against the dock with the waves. Even worse, over it all, I could hear my dad muttering, something he always did while sailing. I pulled my legs to my chest, trying to get small and out of the way, and looked out on the water.

“About ready?” Blake, up on the dock, asked.

“One second,” my dad said from the center of the sunken part of the deck, right in front of me. “I’m having trouble with this centerboard.”

“You just pull straight up and push down.”

“I’m doing that,” my dad replied. “But it won’t—”

“Let me try,” Tracy suggested, jumping down from the upper deck to where he was. “I think you just—”

“I’ve got it,” he said, but she reached in anyway, and then he was grumbling again, both their hands on it, before it fell into the slot with a bang. “See? I had it. You have to let me do things if I say I am doing them.”

“I would have,” Tracy replied cheerfully, “but it seemed like you needed another pair of hands.”