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Authors: C. S. Lakin
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figured out.
She’ll take good care of us.”
Chapter 11
“Oh, Dick,” Millie said, “isn’t this a
beautiful sight?”
“The calm before the storm.” He stepped off
the ferry ramp and looked around the harbor. He eyes searched the
narrow streets into the wooded community of Friday Harbor.
The word “quaint” came to Millie’s mind. She
wished she could have brought the girls; she missed them terribly.
They would have been a lot more fun than Grumpy.
“ There’s the restaurant—right above the
marina.” Dick began walking at a brisk pace, leaving Millie
trailing behind. The wind whipped at her coat. She clutched her
wool scarf, tripping over puddles as she crossed the street,
rolling her suitcase behind her.
“Hey, wait up.”
Dick ignored her. She figured he was still
mad at her for making them miss the noon ferry. Well, he wanted her
to drive and she refused to speed in this weather. With her luck,
he told her, they’ll miss the charter at Friday Harbor and blow the
whole weekend.
Dick seemed eager to see his old pals, but
Millie’s gut filled with trepidation. She had never been very close
to the others in Thespians. She performed and rehearsed with them
all, but underneath the camaraderie she knew they made fun of her
awkwardness. Lila was the only real friend she’d had, and that was
because Lila’d been an outcast too. Millie sighed.
By the time she arrived at the parking lot,
winded and sweaty, Dick emerged from the restaurant, followed by a
group of familiar people. She spotted Davis right away; he looked
little different than she remembered, accompanied by a blonde.
Jon’s hair was shorter and more stylish, but there was no mistaking
his confident stride. The dark-haired woman standing behind him was
a mystery. In fact, Millie didn’t recognize Della until she heard
her speak.
“Hi, Millie. Been a long time.”
Millie stiffened at her voice, waiting for
condescension, but only fatigue laced her tone. She noticed Della’s
shaking hands. Then she took a better look. Fifteen years had taken
their toll on Della—all her beauty and spirit stripped away. Millie
could hardly tear her eyes from the sight of Della’s beaten,
hopeless expression. Millie tightened her coat around her and said
hello to the Thespians class of ’90, aware of their staring at her
extra sixty pounds.
An old mariner walked up to the group in the
parking lot, dressed in a rain parka and rubber boots, with a
shaggy dog at his heels. “Are you the folks heading out to Miss
Carmichael’s?”
Davis looked at the meager handful of
classmates. “You our ride? How many are you supposed to be picking
up?”
The captain counted heads. “You’re looking at
it minus one. Who we missing?”
Jon spoke up. “My date had to bow out last
minute.”
Davis looked puzzled. “Small group. Maybe
there’re more coming later.”
“Nope. You’re it.” The captain checked the
sky. “We should get going.”
“Some big reunion,” Jon said.
Dick beamed. “La crème de la crème. Lila just
wanted us, I guess. So, what are we waiting for?”
The captain scrunched up his face. He led
them over to a wooden dock. Few boats rocked at their moorings in
the large harbor. “This here’s your ride,” he said, pointing to the
small boat pulling at the slip. “Gonna be a little choppy going
around the pass. Windy, too.” Mac’s dog greeted everyone with a
lick. “First mate, Sherpa. My name’s Mac.” He whistled and the dog
jumped on board. “Named him for that famous explorer.” He chuckled
and started untying the line.
Cynthia boarded first, taking the ferryman’s
outstretched hand. Davis climbed in after her, uncomfortable with
the small craft. Sailing on San Francisco Bay in his ketch with a
warm breeze blowing was one thing. Weathering these swells with a
storm looming was another. Especially when the water temperature
rarely topped fifty degrees. If they had to bail out, they’d surely
die
She’ll take good care of us.”
Chapter 11
“Oh, Dick,” Millie said, “isn’t this a
beautiful sight?”
“The calm before the storm.” He stepped off
the ferry ramp and looked around the harbor. He eyes searched the
narrow streets into the wooded community of Friday Harbor.
The word “quaint” came to Millie’s mind. She
wished she could have brought the girls; she missed them terribly.
They would have been a lot more fun than Grumpy.
“ There’s the restaurant—right above the
marina.” Dick began walking at a brisk pace, leaving Millie
trailing behind. The wind whipped at her coat. She clutched her
wool scarf, tripping over puddles as she crossed the street,
rolling her suitcase behind her.
“Hey, wait up.”
Dick ignored her. She figured he was still
mad at her for making them miss the noon ferry. Well, he wanted her
to drive and she refused to speed in this weather. With her luck,
he told her, they’ll miss the charter at Friday Harbor and blow the
whole weekend.
Dick seemed eager to see his old pals, but
Millie’s gut filled with trepidation. She had never been very close
to the others in Thespians. She performed and rehearsed with them
all, but underneath the camaraderie she knew they made fun of her
awkwardness. Lila was the only real friend she’d had, and that was
because Lila’d been an outcast too. Millie sighed.
By the time she arrived at the parking lot,
winded and sweaty, Dick emerged from the restaurant, followed by a
group of familiar people. She spotted Davis right away; he looked
little different than she remembered, accompanied by a blonde.
Jon’s hair was shorter and more stylish, but there was no mistaking
his confident stride. The dark-haired woman standing behind him was
a mystery. In fact, Millie didn’t recognize Della until she heard
her speak.
“Hi, Millie. Been a long time.”
Millie stiffened at her voice, waiting for
condescension, but only fatigue laced her tone. She noticed Della’s
shaking hands. Then she took a better look. Fifteen years had taken
their toll on Della—all her beauty and spirit stripped away. Millie
could hardly tear her eyes from the sight of Della’s beaten,
hopeless expression. Millie tightened her coat around her and said
hello to the Thespians class of ’90, aware of their staring at her
extra sixty pounds.
An old mariner walked up to the group in the
parking lot, dressed in a rain parka and rubber boots, with a
shaggy dog at his heels. “Are you the folks heading out to Miss
Carmichael’s?”
Davis looked at the meager handful of
classmates. “You our ride? How many are you supposed to be picking
up?”
The captain counted heads. “You’re looking at
it minus one. Who we missing?”
Jon spoke up. “My date had to bow out last
minute.”
Davis looked puzzled. “Small group. Maybe
there’re more coming later.”
“Nope. You’re it.” The captain checked the
sky. “We should get going.”
“Some big reunion,” Jon said.
Dick beamed. “La crème de la crème. Lila just
wanted us, I guess. So, what are we waiting for?”
The captain scrunched up his face. He led
them over to a wooden dock. Few boats rocked at their moorings in
the large harbor. “This here’s your ride,” he said, pointing to the
small boat pulling at the slip. “Gonna be a little choppy going
around the pass. Windy, too.” Mac’s dog greeted everyone with a
lick. “First mate, Sherpa. My name’s Mac.” He whistled and the dog
jumped on board. “Named him for that famous explorer.” He chuckled
and started untying the line.
Cynthia boarded first, taking the ferryman’s
outstretched hand. Davis climbed in after her, uncomfortable with
the small craft. Sailing on San Francisco Bay in his ketch with a
warm breeze blowing was one thing. Weathering these swells with a
storm looming was another. Especially when the water temperature
rarely topped fifty degrees. If they had to bail out, they’d surely
die
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