A six-hour round trip. Not because Maysville was all that far a drive, because it took half of those hours to get the salesman to quit blabbering about every model and trying to up-sell me every time I thought I had one picked out.
I probably would have been there another six if I hadn’t just closed my eyes and pointed, then carried that damn thing to the register myself.
“We’ll need to get supplies,” I said.
“There are grocery stores in Florida.”
“No, I mean, boating supplies.”
“It has a radio, lifesaving equipment, and the tools we used to build it. I’m sure with all the other stuff we’ve collected, there’s more than enough.”
True, the damn thing was as much of a storage shed as it was a stargazing clubhouse. And everything else had been a part of the sailboat puzzle. Something to tinker with, a reason to stay out there, an excuse to soak in the solace Morgan found from working on it.
“We don’t have a flare gun.” I didn’t even know if I was arguing against or for going somewhere to get gear that was better than what Barry could order at the hardware store.
“I got one of those from Aunt Jenny.”
I raised my eyebrows.
Morgan shrugged. “Quit working on the bears. I asked if I could borrow it and she said I could have it.”
“Alright, then what about a place to dock it?”
“I found one online. Already paid rent for two weeks. I looked for a pay-by-the-day spot, but they were about as attractive as the pay-by-the-hour hotel.”
It usually worked out that way for a reason. “What about a place to stay?”
“We can stay on the Starry Night. And the dock is in a tourist area. I figured we could do some shopping. You like shopping. I’ve never been shopping, at least not any farther than the general store. But they do have nice jeans, and they always fit.”
“Morgan.” I stepped up to him. “Florida was just a suggestion.”
“Because I suggested trying the Starry Night out in the ocean.”
“Yeah, but we never picked a time.”
“But we put everything on it we needed for when we did, and now I have.”
I ran my fingers through his hair. “You don’t like to leave Durstrand.”
“And you like the ocean.”
I did. I missed the sunsets, the smell of salt water, the sounds of the waves. “Sure, but I never expected—”
“I know.” Morgan tossed thoughts. “And I didn’t expect it either. Even though I suggested it. And we bought all the stuff. But now we have to go.”
I cupped his cheek. “Will you tell me why?”
He met my gaze, and I didn’t dare squander one of these rare moments when he made eye contact. “The other morning, when I cut my finger on the red glass. I got distracted. That’s how I cut it.”
And few things ever distracted Morgan when he built his sculptures.
He dropped his chin and his bangs slid into his eyes. “The waves in the light, they were wrong. So I used another piece to break it apart. Facetted, but the facets were uneven, and the light scattered.” Morgan shook his head. “Light moves so much faster than us, Grant. I only caught a glimpse, and all I know is we have to take the Starry Night and go to Florida.” He stepped back.
Dog pushed into the gap between us and nudged Morgan’s hand. He squished up the animal’s left ear in his grip.
I nodded at the lab. “We’ll have to find a boarding kennel.”
“He’s not staying in a boarding kennel. He’s going with us.”
“It’s a twenty-foot boat.”
“Twenty-five foot six inches, and yes, I’m fully aware of how big it is. I built the frame. Twenty-five feet is more than enough for you, me, and Dog.”
“You really should think of a name for him.”
Morgan shrugged. “Nothing else fits, and until we can think of the right name, it will have to do.”
“He’s nine months.”
“Human babies take nine months to be born and sometimes parents still don’t have names picked out.”
“He’s not a baby.”
Morgan gasped and propped his hands on his hips. “You lied to me.” He pointed at Dog. “You said you were human.”
Dog perked up his ears.
“Morgan.”
He smirked. “Yes?”
I knew better than to tempt fate. ‘Cause said fate, all five-foot-seven of him, would best me. Now, later, it would happen. “How about Bubba.”
“He’s not an inmate.”
I frowned. “I know plenty of people named Bubba who aren’t in prison.”
“Do they date their cousins?”
I waved a hand at Dog. “What about Buddy, or Champ, or Barney.”
“You’ve already suggested Buddy about ten times.”
“Because it’s a good name.”
“He isn’t a Buddy, or a Champ and definitely not a purple dinosaur.” Morgan went back to squishing Dog’s ear. “It has to be the right name. Something he is, not just what we call him. We just haven’t found it yet.” Morgan snapped his fingers. “You should get your duffle bag and pack. We don’t want to leave too late. They’ll take an hour at Fran’s. If they don’t eat fast. If they do, probably still an hour because it’s busy this time a day.”
Morgan walked away, leaving me there with…Dog.
He looked at me then trotted after Morgan.
I caught up to Morgan at the bedroom door. “Florida’s a long way and I doubt the truck could make it.” Worn out seats, a loud engine, and a reluctance to start when it was under seventy degrees, uncomfortable and unreliable. Not the kind of vehicle you wanted to drive seven hours one way.
Honestly, somedays, I was impressed it made it to the store and back.
I would have gotten a newer one, except there were some memories in that truck I just couldn’t part with.
“I got a minivan. I hope that’s okay. It’s not flashy but there’s more room so Dog has a place to stretch out.”
“You rented a car.”
“No, Grant. I stole it.”
I was ninety-nine percent sure he was kidding.
“Yes, Aunt Jenny put everything on her credit card, so we need to make sure we pay it back.”
“Why didn’t you put it on my credit card.”
“Because you would have known about it before they came and got the boat.” He disappeared into the bedroom.
“And that’s a problem? Why?”
“Because it would have ruined the surprise.”
“What surprise?”
Morgan flicked his fingers at me. “Exactly.” He opened the top drawer of the dresser.
“Morgan…”
When he turned around, he held a small square of material tied with a silk bow. “What’s that?”
“The surprise.” Morgan rocked on his toes.
“For what?”
“Our anniversary. You’re supposed to do things like that, right?”
“We haven’t been married a year.”
“No, but it was a year, give or take a few hours, you ran over me with your truck.”
“I did not—I only dented your bike.”