Impact

45

Abbey hadn't been able to figure out what to say to her father at dinner, and now, at six A.M., as she lugged her suitcase down the stairs, she still had no idea how she was going to break the news.

She found him sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and reading the Portland Press Herald. She was shocked at how tired he looked. His light brown hair lay in straggly locks plastered to his forehead, he hadn't shaved, and his shoulders were stooped. He was not tall but he had always been straight, stocky, and muscular. Now he looked half-collapsed. Since she had sunk his boat and wrecked his livelihood, he had quit bugging her about college and her future, stopped complaining about all the money he'd spent. It was almost like he'd given up on her--and his own life. He couldn't have made her feel worse if he'd tried.

As she set her suitcase by the door he looked up in surprise. "What's this? You going somewhere?"

She struggled to smile brightly. "I got a new job."

His eyebrows went up. "Sit down, have a cup of coffee, and tell me about it."

The sun streamed in the window, and she could see the blue of the distant harbor beyond, dotted with fishing boats, and, through the opposite window, the big meadow behind the house, the grass long and green. Half an hour until the car arrived. Taking a mug out of the cupboard, she poured herself a cup, added her usual four teaspoons of sugar and a good pour of heavy cream, stirred it up, and sat down.

"No more waitressing?"

"No more. I got a real job."

"At Reilly's Market? I saw they'd posted a notice looking for summer help."

"I'm going to Washington."

"Washington? As in D.C.?"

"For a week or two, and then maybe I'll be back. The position involves a certain amount of travel."

Her father leaned forward, an uncertain look on his face. "Travel? What in the world will you be doing?"

She swallowed. "I'm working for a planetary geologist. I'm his assistant."

Her father stared at her with narrowed eyes. "What do you know about geology?"

"It's not geology. It's planetary geology. Planets, Dad. It's more like astronomy. This scientist runs a consulting firm for the government." She paused, remembering what they'd discussed. "He was in the restaurant a couple of days ago, and we got to talking, and he offered to hire me as his assistant." She took a slug of coffee and smiled nervously.

"Why, Abbey, that's great. If you don't mind me asking, what's the pay?"

"It's excellent. In fact, there was a signing bonus . . ."

"A what?"

"A signing bonus. You know, when you take a new job, you sometimes get a bonus for accepting."

The eyes got narrower. "That's for highly skilled people. What skills do you have?"

Abbey just hated lying. "I took astronomy and physics courses at Princeton."

He looked at her steadily. "Are you sure this is legit?"

"Of course! Look, there's a car coming for me in fifteen minutes, so I gotta say good-bye. But there's something I want to tell you first--"

"A car? For you?"

"Right. Car service. To the airport. I'm flying to Washington."

"I want to meet your employer. I want to talk to him."

"Dad, I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." She swallowed, glanced out the window.

Her father, frowning, set his coffee cup down. "I want to meet him."

"You will, I promise." She pointed out the window. "Look at the harbor."

"What?" Her father's face was all red with worry.

Now or never, Abbey thought. "Hey, look at your mooring!"

He turned and squinted out the kitchen window, then scraped back his chair in irritation. "Agh, for chrissakes, some jackass is hanging on my mooring."

"Those damn summer people," said Abbey. It was a familiar refrain, the summer cruising folk snagging the empty moorings of fishermen.

"They come up from Massachusetts, think they own the harbor."

"Better get the name of the boat and tell the harbormaster."

"I certainly will." He rummaged in the magazine basket and pulled out a set of binoculars. He squinted, staring through them. "What the hell?"

"What's the name of the boat?"

"Is this some kind of joke?"

Abbey couldn't hold it in any longer. "Dad, it's the Marea II. A thirty-six-foot Willis Beal, two hundred fifteen horse power Volvo engine with less than two thousand hours, pot hauler, raw water, tanks, the works. Built in 2002 by RP Boatworks. Ready to fish. It isn't new but all I had was a hundred grand."

The binoculars began to shake. "What . . . the hell?"

A honk came from the driveway.

"Oops, there's my ride."

"I can't possibly afford the payments . . ."

"It's free and clear. I bought it for you with my signing bonus. All the papers are on board. Gotta go."

"Abbey . . . wait, you bought me a new boat? Wait, for God's sakes . . ."

"Got my cell, I'll call you from the road."

She rushed out of the house, tossed her suitcase in the back of the black SUV, and jumped in after it. Her father came to the door, still confused. She waved as the car scurried off down the graveled driveway and onto the main road.