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But here, in the present, rooted to the deck of the boat, I can’t get myself to run. I can’t even get myself to take one step away from him. It’sexactlylike it was back then: the magnetic force of his presence pulling me in, and me, too soft and weak to resist at all.
“Angela,” he whispers so softly my name is all but swallowed by the wind. “You look happy.”
My heart contracts in my chest. I’m tired of feeling soft and weak. I want to feelhappy, like Carter says. I want to feel strong. And for once, I want to take something for myself from a man. I don’t want to wait around for a man to decide to kiss me, to want me, toloveme. If I want him, I’m taking him.
And he’s right here.
I lean forward into Carter and angle my head upwards. I study him for a second and all I can see on his face is that he looks happy, too.
Gently, I press a kiss to Carter’s lips. I feel him go still, hear his breath hitch as my lips make contact with his. I want to paint the feeling of that sensation, to preserve it in memory forever. It’s the briefest kiss, and I don’t give him the chance to kiss me back before I pull away. I’m not sure what it means, but it makes me feel happy, and for now, that’s enough.
I loop one arm around him, and settle into his side. Even though our life jackets get in the way a bit, it’s still nice. We pass the binoculars back and forth, and together we watch the puffins dive into the water and fly back to the rocky cliffs.
After another hour, Archie says we have to get back to do deliveries in town, and Carter and I snap a few more photos of the birds. I have plans to sketch a few of them when we get back to Harborview.
My cheeks hurt. I think it’s the wind or the cold at first, but no—it’s from smiling.
23
CARTER
Angela kissed me.
Angela kissed me.
Angela kissed me.
That one sentence replays in my mind, over and over, as we head back to the harbor. For the last hour, I was barely paying attention to the birds I was watching through the binoculars. I was too busy paying attention to the lingering sensation of Angela’s lips against mine, and the press of her body against my side.
Maybe it’s working. Maybe she’s starting to forgive me.
I stand at the bow of the boat, while Angela keeps Archie company near the helm, chattering away with him about all the birds we saw, and asking him about his life on Isle North.
After we get back to the harbor, and dock the boat, Archie explains that he can take us back to Harborview anytime after 10:00 a.m. tomorrow, as he’s going to a midweek service at the island’s tiny church in the morning.
Archie heads out to do a few deliveries, and we go to Shaky Jane’s for an early dinner. On the way over, Angela tells me that she needs to call her boss, though the look on her face tells me exactly how excited she is for that conversation.
“It will be okay,” I reassure her.
“I told him I thought I’d be able to work tomorrow morning’s shift,” she says. “He’s not going to be happy when he finds out I won’t be able to. I can come in the afternoon, though. Archie said it will take a few hours to get to Harborview.”
“It’s past time that someone else there had to cover for you,” I tell her. “How many times have you called off work sick or for some other reason?”
Her silence says it all.
“That’s what I thought. Your boss needs to relax. I’m sure the other nurses have stepped up to cover for you.”
“Maybe,” she says and scrunches up her nose. “They aren’t really reliable.”
“It will be okay,” I tell her again. I’m a broken record, and I feel helpless—like my reassurances are lies. From what she’s told me, her boss won’t understand, and the other nurses likely aren’t happy about covering for her.
She calls her boss as we linger outside the restaurant, and even though I know I should give her privacy, I’m nosey and want to know how this conversation goes down. Angela sees me hovering and pointedly rolls her eyes at me.
“Hi, Tony,” she says. “I’m going to be back in Harborview tomorrow. But not until around noon…Yeah I know I said I’d be there tomorrow morning but things change. We’ve worked as hard as we can to find someone to take us back…No, I’m not treating this like a vacation, you know me better than that…Okay well what about Laura? Can’t she come in?”
She pauses, and listens for a bit. I catch a few of his words, and hear him say, “Angela, this is not like you and if you keep this up then…under review…”
“Look, Tony, it’s not really my fault that I’m literallystrandedon this island, and Laura and Steph are just going to have to pick up the slack for me for once,” Angela says, hervoice ice cold. That’s my snow queen. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon,” she continues, and then she hangs up.
