Page 10 of Restoration
Edmund gives a stiff nod.
Caleb slants me a look. I know what it means.
Way to make the next two months alone with Edmund awkward as hell.
three
THREE WEEKS LATER,I’m lying on a built-in chaise at the front of Edmund’s fancy sailboat, enjoying the combination of sun and wind.
I’ve got a typical redhead’s skin—fair and easily burned—so I have to apply sunscreen to every exposed inch of my body each morning. I never tan at all, only get more freckled. But I still love lying in the sun sometimes as long as it’s not too hot and as long as I’ve got enough sunscreen on to keep me from burning to a crisp.
The wind and the light spray from the ocean cool me down enough to stay comfortable. I’ve been enjoying lying out here for a couple of hours most afternoons.
I almost never get seasick, and Edmund has been in a remarkably good mood, never even referring to the fact that I’ve resigned. So overall, the past three weeks have been pleasant and relaxing. We’ve sailed down the Pacific coast, stopping every few days to restock supplies, walk around on dry ground, and get a good night’s sleep while safely docked instead of napping in shifts or trusting our navigational alarms to wake us up. Occasionally, when we find a particularly pleasant beach town, we’ve stayed a couple of nights so Edmund can surf.
Our original plan was to head to Panama and then angle down to the Galapagos Islands. But Caleb has been getting updates on the political and security situation in Ecuador. Even though he successfully got us a permit (something that evidently takes a lot of hassle with bureaucracy and not a small amount of bribe money), he advised against trying to sail there in a private yacht right now.
To his credit, Edmund listened to that advice and agreed to change our plan. So we’ve been taking our time and hitting a lot of surf spots down the coast instead.
I’m happy about the altered agenda since it means we stay closer to the coast and get to see something other than the ocean and our cabins.
And maybe Edmund has come to accept my decision and doesn’t hate me too much for it.
I really don’t want him to hate me.
More likely he’s simply pretending it’s not happening rather than coming to any acceptance of reality. But that’s his issue, not mine. I’m doing what I need to do.
My eyes have been closed, but I sense rather than hear a presence beside me. I peer up against the sun to see the silhouette of Edmund standing over me. “Hey.”
“Hey. Sorry to wake you up.”
“I wasn’t asleep.”
He lowers his long body onto the chaise, stretching out beside me. He’s smiling when I turn my head to look at him.
I smile back, trying not to go too soft inside. He has this appealing way about him that makes it impossible not to like him even when he’s being infuriating. “Taking a rest?”