Page 50 of The Sailor

When Marit arrived, she grinned at seeing the line at Zach’s lobster shack. It was at least fifteen people deep. The employees working the window were in constant motion, one taking money, one calling out the name of each person as their order was ready, and another preparing the orders, moving the food from the grill into the small paper baskets they used for serving.

Everyone was smiling, and Marit heard more than one person raving about the little pot pies.

The small buoys Zach had also made to sell were disappearing almost as quickly as the food. They weren’t anything super special, just simple PVC buoys with “The Lobster Buoy” printed on the sides, but people seemed to love them. Now that she was paying attention, everywhere she looked, Marit saw one hanging on someone’s backpack or purse.

They were quintessential Maine, since they were tiny replicas of an actual lobster buoy, but including the name of the shack on them was pretty darn smart, as far as she was concerned.

“Hey, Zach! Marit’s here!” Casey called out.

“Be out in a sec!” Marit heard him yell from the back of the shack.

She waved at Casey to let her know she’d heard, then stood off to the side to study the crowd. Despite being so busy, everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Kids were running around, parents were doing their best to keep an eye on them, and everyone had some kind of food or drink in their hands. Ice cream, Zach’s pot pie, beer.

The weather was perfect, lower eighties, and the sound of people chatting and laughing was constant all around her.

This was what Marit had been looking for. A place where people could relax, enjoy hanging out with their neighbors, slow down and take a breath now and then. Yes, many of the people here were tourists, but the fact that they could appreciate a small-town festival like this one and didn’t need to head to a huge city to be happy was heartening. It even felt good that she had a hand in the joy people were feeling by catching some of the very lobsters they were eating.

“Hey,” a deep voice said in her ear.

Marit didn’t jump in surprise; she immediately recognized Zach’s voice. And the feel of his arm going around her waist and pulling her back into his chest was like coming home.

“Hey,” she said softly, turning her head to look up at him.

“How was work?”

“It was work,” she replied.

Zach frowned as he stared at her. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

So much for her hiding what happened with Lucas. Marit shrugged. “Lucas decided to put his pots basically on top of ours.”

“He can’t do that, can he?”

“Well, there’s no law against it in Maine, but it’s severely frowned on. And if he touches our gear, there can be huge fines. No one is allowed to haul anyone’s pots but their own. But it’s definitely a douchebag thing to do. His catch will be less, and ours too. But I suppose at this point, he’s more concerned about screwing me over than worrying about how many lobsters he’s catching.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Zach asked, turning her in his arms so she was facing him.

“Not really. He and Eliot mostly had words. He was awesome. Eliot, that is. I think Lucas was kind of humiliated. And it seems as if he’s working solo again.”

“Again?”

“Yeah. He can’t keep a deckhand to save his life. I haven’t been here long, neither has Lucas, but even I’ve heard the stories about what a dick he is to work for. How he cuts corners on safety, and more than once, he’s kept lobsters that are too large. Or breeding females with eggs. Just like Thorne did back in Portland. Rumor has it that Lucas even has a hidden compartment on his boat to store them, so if he gets inspected at the dock, no one will find any illegal lobsters he’s kept.”

“What an asshole.”

“Yeah,” Marit agreed.

“I’m sorry he’s still being a pain,” Zach told her. “You want me to talk to him again?”

“No!” she answered quickly. Then she gave Zach a weary smile. “I appreciate it, but it won’t do any good. Lucas is convinced I’m bad luck, and having Thorne encouraging him from Portland, and possibly even egging him on to harass me, Eliot, and Jonah, doesn’t help. Winter’s coming soon enough, and by then, hopefully things will cool off, literally and figuratively.”

“I’m struggling to let you deal with this on your own, or not put any pressure on you to let me and my brothers help,” Zach admitted. “I know you left Portland because of that Thorne guy, and the last thing I want is for you to think the best way to deal with Pearson’s bullying is by leaving Rockville as well. I don’t want that. I just found you. Losing you because of some bigoted asshole would suck.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Marit reassured him, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside from his words. It wasn’t a declaration of love, but knowing he felt that way about her, about their relationship, felt really good. “And I love that you want to help, but you already are. By doing this. Being with me. Showing me the things that are important to you, like this festival. By sharing your family with me and taking me to the crate race. Being with you makes me forget that there are people out there who hate me simply because I have boobs instead of a dick.”

In response, Zach hugged Marit hard.

She held on just as fiercely while she blinked back tears. Moving to Rockville was one of the best decisions she’d ever made. Of course, she’d come here because she’d basically been driven out of Portland because of Thorne and his viciousness toward her, but she could see herself making Rockville her forever home. She loved this little town.