Getting Rough (21 page)

Hurricane Ayla was a nasty bitch. She’d reached Category 4 before making landfall and had ripped through Stonington, shredding it to bits like confetti. So much destruction had been left in her wake; homes broken, lives turned upside down and inside out, and crippling financial ruin.

And she did it all without a care in the world for those who were left to pick up the pieces.

The townspeople of Stonington wouldn’t wallow in self-pity, though. They were resilient, tough, determined to get on with their lives and salvage what was left. Stonington would come back from this. We would all come back from this.

In the hours following Ayla’s departure, we’d gone through all five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Acceptance was where we all shined and showed the stuff we were made of. The cleanup process had already begun, and by some miracle the power was back on. Hope and strength were the foundation upon which this island had been built, and no storm was going to change that.

Lives had been spared. I’d yet to hear of a single one lost, and most of the injuries were to the pride of hardworking lobstermen. As competitive as each one of them could be, they pulled together for the sake of their community. I was proud to be counted among its people.

Despite all my moaning and groaning about coming back to Stonington, I realized I’d never really left. A tether attached at birth had bound me to it, and even though I’d stretched that tether as far as it would go – to the extreme opposite end of the country – it was still tied to Stonington.

I looked up from a pile of debris I’d been sorting and wiped the sweat off my forehead. It was hot out here, with loads of moisture still in the air and the sun beating down so hard I turned to give it my WTF brow, as if it and I had a casual relationship like that. The sky was painted an azure blue, with wispy white clouds streaking through the color like the world was nestled inside a marble. I snorted thinking how very Dr. Seuss the idea was. Though Dr. Seuss’s stories all had happy endings and a moral to be learned.

There was a grunting sort of growl behind me, one that a giant gym junkie might make when lifting a barbell loaded down with three times his own weight. Shaw had been in that direction, as had Casey, so I turned to be sure those two weren’t back at each other’s throats. Imagine my surprise when I saw they were working together to raise what appeared to have once been the roof of the Harbor Master’s shed.

Shaw Matthews, a man who’d never cared about anyone other than himself, had pitched in to lend a helping hand. And my very dearest friend, the man who had sucker punched him the day before, was now watching his back. Yes, natural disasters were devastating, but they always seemed to bring people together in a way that might not have ever happened otherwise. I was proud of my boys.

To my right, Mia was struggling with dislodging a microwave from the mountain of mud surrounding it. Throwing all of her weight behind it, I saw the end result before she eventually lost her footing and fell flat on her derriere with mud splashing up all around her. But I wouldn’t delight in her predicament, nor would I sling even more mud in her face. If my boys could be big enough to bury the hatchet, so could I.

Propping my foot on the same microwave, I stretched out a hand in Mia’s direction. She looked up at me, puzzled at first, and then she smiled. I totally got what Casey saw in her. She really was pretty in an unassuming way, sweet like the girl next door, and just Casey’s type. Plus she was a romance author, so yeah, I was sure he could get down with that.

Mia took my offered hand, an unspoken truce passing between us as I hauled her to her feet.

“So… You and Casey, huh?” I asked.

The smile that radiated from her overshadowed the beams of sunlight streaking down from our marbled sky. Oh, yeah, she was smitten. She was also looking down at the ground as if she hadn’t wanted me to see it. And that just wasn’t right, so I lifted her chin to look her in the eyes.

“It’s okay. Honestly,” I assured her. “He really likes you.”

Mia turned, her whole body gravitating in his direction. “You think so?”

I laughed. “Oh, yeah. Trust me, no one knows him better than I do. He’s my best friend, and that’s never going to change, but I’m really happy for you two.”

That bright smile turned demure as she attempted to knock the mud from her pants. “Thanks. It means a lot coming from you.”

I decided to help her with the mud situation by wiping what she couldn’t see from her cheek. Her situation with Casey was still new, and I was sure she wouldn’t want him to see her that way. Chicks had to band together on these sorts of things, after all. Unless you were being catty, in which case you “accidentally” smeared even more. I wasn’t in a catty mood.

“A word of advice?” I offered.

“Oh, sure!” she said, eagerly.

“Don’t lead him on. Casey is Stonington. This is his home, and it’s all he knows,” I told her while moving to clear the mud from her hair. “I’m not sure how a long-distance relationship between the two of you would work, but if you just visit often and stay true to him, I promise he’ll remain loyal to you.”

Mia nodded. “I promise to be good to him, Cassidy. For as long as he’ll let me.”

Pointing a finger, I gave her a playful smile. “You’d better. Oh, and if he messes up, just give him the silent treatment. He can’t stand it. Works every time,” I said with a conspiratorial wink.

Just then, Ma called down from the house, “Cass, go tell that husband of mine his dinner is ready. The rest of you come get your bellies full, too.”

“Okay, Ma! Where is he, anyway?” I asked, looking around and not seeing him.

“Where he always goes when he’s trying to get out of work,” she said.

“I’ve got him!” I knew she was exaggerating because that was her way. Besides, my da never shirked on responsibility. He disappeared to get away from her nagging, and it was always to the same place: the beach.

Before I even had a chance to say anything, Mia was quick on the draw. “You go ahead. I’ll get the guys together.” She was a take-charge type of gal, too. I liked that. Casey was in very capable hands, indeed.

“Don’t worry about the mud. Guys around here like a woman who isn’t afraid to get a little dirt on their hands,” I told her, and then I set off to drag my father back to the homestead with the lure of Ma’s cooking.

A few weeks ago, no one would have ever believed their eyes if they’d seen me getting down in the dirt with a village full of fishermen. Hell, I wouldn’t have believed it myself. Still didn’t, but there I was… lending a helping hand to my fellow man. And better? I was doing it right next to the guy who’d been swinging at me just the day before. And I didn’t even want to get square with him for the whole attempted involuntary-manslaughter thing.

What I did want, however, was an ice-cold glass of sweet tea and my girl.

“All together now, boys,” Thomas barked his direction after I, along with four other young men, got into position to lift the roof of the Harbor Master’s shed.

At the count of three, we put all we had behind it, managing to elevate it enough so that Casey could run steel cables underneath, which would then be attached to a crane that would do the really heavy lifting. Damn thing weighed a thousand tons, and every muscle in my body was putting in 110 percent to make sure Casey got to do his thing safely. Unfortunately, Billy Jo Bob on the other end had himself a case of the slip-’n’-falls and lost his footing.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Thomas yelled, running in and trying to take the guy’s place before the aftermath of Hurricane Ayla claimed her first victim, his son. “Get him out of there!”

Casey was right in front of me, the rooftop bearing down on his legs and leaving him no room to move. Not an ounce of fear registered in his features, though I knew he had to have been saying his final prayers.

“Gimme a little more room!” I called back.

With another burst of energy, I shoved upward, using all my might to help as much as I could with my left arm while extending my right for Casey to grab hold of. His gloved palm clasped mine and he looked up at me, pupils dilated even as his brow furrowed in determination. A fierce sort of sound came out of me, somehow giving me strength I never knew I’d possessed, and I yanked the shit out of his arm.

The next thing I knew, a whole bunch of incidental shit was flying up around a rooftop that had come crashing back down to the ground. A swift glance to my right, and I found Casey lying safe and sound on the concrete next to me, those wild eyes turned toward the sky and his upper torso making with the breathe in, breathe out.

Thomas came around and gave his son a once-over. “You all right, son?” he asked. When Casey nodded, Thomas clapped me on the back with a “Good job” and granted us both permission to take a break before he stalked off and yelled at the boys to get back to work.

Casey and I looked at each other like the old man was off his rocker, and then we both started laughing. Once we’d gotten that out of our systems, I took a deep breath to get my heart rate back under control and then offered my palm to Casey yet again.

There was something in the way he looked up at me that made my chest swell with pride, an unspoken truce that accompanied a newfound trust. He took the damn thing, and I pulled him to his feet.

“Thanks, man,” Casey said, dusting himself off, an act that was probably a force of habit since it really didn’t make a difference.

“You did the same for me,” I reminded him.

Casey chuckled. It was the kind of chuckle that was every bit an admission that he’d been the reason I’d almost met my maker, but we’d let that go. “Guess we’re even now.”

“Yeah, guess so,” I said, fidgeting in the awkwardness between us, and knowing there was still a pink elephant doing the squeeze on us.

“Hey, about Cassidy,” I started.

Before I could go any further, Casey looked me square in the eye and asked, “Do you love her?”

He was methodical with the way he tugged at each finger of a glove to remove it. Damn, maybe we were going to go for round two. Okay.

“I… um…” I hedged, not because I was afraid of him but because I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to exchange that bit of information with anyone when I hadn’t even had the conversation with Cassidy about what was up with my feelings.

“Look, man, you don’t want to tell me? I respect that,” he said, tucking the first glove in his armpit and moving to the next. “But if you do, ya gotta fight for her. Don’t be an idiot like I was and let her get away from you. Ya know?”

I nodded, knowing it had to take some mad nerve to admit his folly.

“As for Cassidy and me,” he continued. “Don’t sweat it. Had nothing at all to do with you. Truth of the matter is that Cassidy was just too much of a woman for me.” He laughed in spite of himself, shaking his head. “Damn, she’s headstrong. Loves to argue. She was definitely the one wearing the pants in our relationship. I need a woman who’s a little more docile. One who’s willing to be the little lady while I treat her like a princess. Ya feel me?”

I laughed along with him. “Mia that for you?”

Casey put both of his gloves in one hand then fisted it on his hip as he looked toward the house. I turned to see Mia walking in our direction with a definitive sway to her hips. Casey grinned like the cat that ate the canary. “Maybe…”

“Well, all right then,” I said, finding I was sort of happy that he was okay, maybe even better off, with how things had turned out.

Stonington’s beach wasn’t anything like the beaches in San Diego. Firstly, because San Diego had too many to count, while Stonington had only the one. And whereas San Diego’s beaches were usually smooth and flat, Stonington’s was mostly giant boulders. The thing that made Stonington win out was the natural beauty, clean and without the thousands of visitors throughout the day, or their litter. Not today, though. Thanks to Ayla, there was debris everywhere. Still, sea moss and driftwood made for a much better view than just plain garbage.

I found Da perched atop his favorite boulder looking out over the cove with surprisingly small waves lapping at the stone. I knew before I reached him that he’d have a handful of pebbles, their smooth edges a weird sort of contrast to his calluses. My father had been a hardworking man all his life, rough around the edges but smooth as a pebble on the inside, and he always took time out to appreciate nature’s marvels, big and small.

I often wondered what must have been going through his mind as he sat there all alone, but it simply wasn’t my place to pry. The man was entitled to his personal musings, despite his wife’s contrary opinion.

Without a word, I took a seat next to him on the rock, unwilling to disturb his peaceful tranquillity when the heart of where this man lived and breathed was in such upheaval. He didn’t turn to look at me, didn’t change the expression on his face. He just stretched out his cupped hand and offered me one of his stones, which I took without hesitation.

I could remember being sent there many times as a child to fetch him for Ma, but I’d faked a lot of those times just so I could be with him. Da had always called me his little duckling and had even walked around in a zigzag to watch me follow his exact path, which I did without fail. I loved my mother, I really did, but I was daddy’s little girl. He and Ma would even have to pull fast ones on me so he could get out the door without having me in tow. I’d throw a fit when I finally got wise to it and go in search of him anyway. In fact, there were times when I’d sit on the dock for an entire day just waiting for him to return from his day of lobstering.

My da had been the reason why my love of sports had begun in the first place. Sitting on his knee in his favorite recliner, he’d schooled me on football as if knowing everything about it would make the difference between life and death in a postapocalyptic world. And I even had my very own stool down at Maggie’s, Stonington’s one and only pub.