Spring Tide (28 page)

***

Jackie sat at the swing-up table at the edge of Stef’s kitchen, eating her scrambled eggs absentmindedly, staring across the narrow space between them at Stef’s multicolored eyes and wide, nearly apologetic smile. As if she’s afraid to show how happy she is, Jackie thought. She wore an oversized shirt over bare legs, her hair a mess.
She’s so cute
.

“Thanks for breakfast,” Jackie said, then took a long swallow of coffee. “I need to get going, though. I have to run home before work and change clothes.”

“You can’t wear the same thing two days in a row?” Stef sipped from the mug she held in both hands. “After all, you wear a smock over your clothes. And who are you worried about? It’s just Niko, right?”

“Right. But you’ve forgotten I have a houseful of pets.”

“I had forgotten,” Stef said. The smile on her face was sleepy and dreamy. There was no sign of the tragic demons in her eyes this morning, and Jackie felt proudly responsible for that.

She reached over and took one of Stef’s hands away from her mug. “It’s going to be a hard day to get through.”

“You’re tired?”

“Yep. And I just know as soon as I’m out of sight, you’re going to crawl back in bed and enjoy a long, leisurely morning of dozing.”

Stef looked suddenly alert. She put her coffee down. “I
completely forgot Marcus is coming today. He found a carburetor kit.”

“That’s great! Maybe by tonight you’ll have a working engine.”

“Wouldn’t that be something! That’s the last thing. When the engine’s running, I’ll be ready to launch.” Stef’s eyes shone with the thrill of that possibility.

“But you won’t be taking off right away,” Jackie said hopefully.
“You don’t have to leave until the end of July.”

“That’s the latest.” Stef squeezed her fingers. “Don’t worry. I won’t be leaving tomorrow.”

Jackie managed a short laugh, but she wasn’t sure what Stef was promising. When it came down to it, she wasn’t sure about anything. They’d had an incredible night together, but whether that implied anything further…

“When can I see you again?” Jackie asked.

“If you’re not busy, come by after work today. I have a feeling I’m going to be celebrating. I wouldn’t mind having somebody to celebrate with.”

Jackie jumped out of her chair and threw her arms around Stef’s neck, kissing her gratefully.

When Jackie drove up, she saw Stef filling the big bucket with a hose under the boat motor. Marcus’s truck was parked in the driveway, but he was nowhere to be seen. She walked up to Stef, wanting to throw her arms around her, but unsure whether they had an audience.

“Where’s Marcus?” she asked.

“Underneath. I asked him to check out the new pontoon, to make sure it’s on right.”

Just then Marcus walked out on all fours from under the boat. Seeing Jackie, he hollered, “You’re just in time for the big moment!” He leapt up, slapped his hands together to dust them off, and walked over. “The pontoon is in there solid,” he announced. “Good job. Both of ’em’s sound. She’ll float just fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” Stef asked.

“Sure as eggs is eggs. You could have a big old hole in the cabin floor and not sink. A little water would splash in, but as long as your pontoons aren’t leaking, you’re floating.”

Stef looked relieved.

“Is the engine running?” Jackie asked.

“We’re about to find out,” Stef said.

“No reason she won’t start now,” Marcus said with assurance. “Electrical’s good. Fuel system’s good. All systems go. Just gotta put a little gas in here to wet her whistle.” He poured a shot of gasoline from a plastic cup into the top of each carburetor, then lowered the prop into the bucket of water. “Go ahead and turn the key.”

Stef held up both hands with fingers crossed, her teeth clenched in excitement, then ran inside to the helm. Deuce barked and ran after her. Jackie and Marcus stood back a few feet, waiting in silent tension.

The engine seemed to cough once before it roared to life and kept running, robust and smooth. The propeller whirled around furiously and splashed water out of the bucket. Stef bounded off the deck of the boat, yelling, “Woo hoo!” and ran over to watch the prop spin, beaming with happiness. She threw her arms around Marcus, giving him a powerful hug, then did the same to Jackie.

Marcus shut off the engine and lowered the cover into place. “There you go!” he said with finality.

“Thank you so much!” Stef gushed. “I want to pay you for your time. You spent the whole afternoon out here.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, waving a hand. “You already gave me the twenty-six dollars for the kit. That’ll do.”

Marcus gathered his tools together while Stef and Jackie stood staring at the engine, feeling as if a feat of magic had occurred.

“I feel I practically owe that man my life,” Stef said at last.

“Don’t worry about it. He had a great time.”

“He seemed to.” She sighed deeply. “I can really picture it now, you know? Being on the water.”

“There are still things to do, though, right?”

“Plenty of things to do,” Stef confirmed. “New carpet, new curtains. I want to refinish some of the wood surfaces inside and…yeah, there are projects to keep me busy for a while. But the most important thing is done, getting her seaworthy.”

Marcus waved from his truck, indicating he was leaving. They both waved back and Stef hollered, “Thank you!”

“Wow,” Stef said. “I can hardly believe it. And there’s one other bit of good news. I’ve settled on a name.”

“What is it?”

“Mudbug.”

Jackie hesitated, completely surprised. “I like it!” she finally said.

“Good. I thought you would.”

Marcus’s truck was just clearing the end of the driveway. Jackie wasted no time putting her arms around Stef and drawing her into a long, passionate kiss.

“I missed you all day long,” Jackie said. “I kept thinking, what am I doing neutering cats when I could be kissing Stef?”

Stef laughed. “Marcus was here all afternoon, so it was just as well you were neutering cats. And don’t get any ideas about calling in sick tomorrow because I won’t be here.”

“Oh? Where are you going?”

“Visiting a friend,” Stef answered vaguely.

Jackie warned herself to suppress the urge to push for more information, but Stef’s continuing reticence put her on edge. Maybe I’m more like my mother than I thought, she decided. People whose secrets I don’t know drive me nuts. But, no, that wasn’t true. It was just Stef’s secrets that drove her nuts.

“I’ve got band practice tomorrow night,” Jackie said. “So I guess I won’t see you tomorrow at all.”

“Then we should make the most of tonight, shouldn’t we?”

“Uh-huh,” Jackie murmured, moving in for another kiss.

“Looking good, Stef,” said Roberto as he sat across the table from her and immediately slouched down in his chair.

“Thanks for adding me to your visitor list,” she said.

He jerked his chin up in acknowledgment, then glanced around the room at the other visiting groups. There were five other occupied tables, all with women who were most likely wives or girlfriends. At one table, a little girl sat on her mother’s lap across from a young man who smiled at her with adoration. Some of these women, Stef knew, were here every weekend. Visiting the prison was as much a part of their routine as grocery shopping.

Roberto’s orange jumpsuit fit his muscular body snugly. His hair was shaved, and he had a crude spiderweb tattoo on his neck that hadn’t been there when he had started his prison term three years ago. His mouth was set in an attitude of world-weariness, and his eyes settled into a dull gaze that seemed to look right past her. There was a deep scar across the left side of his face that started above his eyebrow, cut through it, hopped his eye, and dug in deeper on his cheek. A memento of the fight that had left another man dead. Just to the left of that scar, under his eye, was a tattooed tear, a symbol of his having taken a life. Stef was familiar with the symbol, ironically an icon of grief, but often worn as an emblem of pride among gang members:
I killed a dude. I’m in here for a real crime. I’m somebody. Respect me.

Roberto’s eyes were the same as his brother’s, dark brown with thick eyelashes, but the laughter Stef had often seen in his brother’s eyes was absent in Roberto’s. This man’s eyes were lazy and vacant.

The last time she’d seen Roberto Molina was at his sentencing.
Before that, she’d seen him around now and then. He and his brother Joe hadn’t hung out together much, not since Joe became a police officer, but they kept in touch. Whenever Roberto was in trouble, any kind of trouble, he always turned up at his older brother’s door, knowing that was one place he’d be welcome.

Stef had always been struck by the way they looked alike but seemed so different. It was all in the attitude. Sometimes she had even thought of Joe as the good one and Roberto as the bad one, which she knew was a huge oversimplification. It was just that given similar circumstances, Joe had somehow crawled out of the muck and Roberto had sunk lower. It had always been Joe Molina’s greatest regret and sorrow that he hadn’t been able to help his brother out of the downward spiral of gang activity and crime. He had helped Roberto with money, set him up with jobs, even let him stay at his apartment for weeks at a time. The money had disappeared with nothing to show for it. The jobs had lasted a pitifully short time. And when Roberto stayed at his place, Joe’s valuables tended to disappear.

In trying to save his brother, Molina had always felt he was fighting against a swift and relentless current. Ultimately, he believed he had failed when Roberto killed a rival gang member and was found guilty of murder. But even then, Joe hadn’t given up on him. He just went into a different phase, waiting for his brother to serve his time and come back to the world. Meanwhile, Joe had encouraged him to learn job skills like fixing computers and to stay out of trouble.

Molina had visited Roberto regularly. Inevitably, after those visits, he came back sad and disheartened. He kept going, hoping to see a glimmer of his little brother, that quiet little kid who used to grab his hand for comfort in the middle of the night. But that was a long time ago. If that little kid was in there, he was buried deep. But Molina apparently saw something he recognized once in a while, because he kept going.

Stef had never visited Roberto before. She had called him once, after the shooting, to say how sorry she was, how much she would miss his brother and what a great guy he had been. Roberto had said very little during that call. He had still been in shock. So had she.

“You look pretty good yourself, Roberto,” Stef said. “Healthy and strong.”

“Been working out,” he said proudly.

His demeanor was marked by indifference, but the way he kept glancing around, at the surveillance cameras, the correctional officers and the other prisoners, suggested he was nervous.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” Stef offered, noticing the vending machine. “Or a soda?”

He shook his head.

“Did you get the package I sent?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

Stef too was uncomfortable, in a way she’d never been in a prison before. “I thought you might like to have a few things of your brother’s.”

“Yeah. Cool.” His expression was blank, as if he didn’t care that she was here or about anything she had to say. Not quite hostile, just uninterested.

His attitude diffused her urge to apologize again, to pour out the grief and regret she felt for what she had done. At least during that painful phone call, he had seemed to be listening and to be feeling something. She hoped he would relax and let her in.

“Are you still taking those computer classes?” she asked.

“Naw. That shit’s really boring. I signed up for cooking. I thought it might be fun. Not that they’re gonna teach you how to make anything decent in here. Nothing like Oysters Rockefeller or whatever.”

“What have you learned to make?”