decisions before much longer, too. We're not going to have the cash to
hire on laborers for a while yet." He blew out a breath. "Unless we
count a couple of kids. This friend of Bardette's isn't ready to commit.
He's going to come down and take a look at the place, and us, and what
we've got here. I figure we make sure Phillip's around to sweet-talk him
into a contract and a deposit."
Ethan hadn't expected it to happen so soon, to have one dream grow and
steal from the other. He thought of the chill winter months spent
dredging, the rise and fall of the skipjack over hard chop, the long,
often frustrating search for oyster, for rockfish, for a living.
A nightmare for some, he supposed. But hope and glory for him.
He took the time to look around the building. The boat, nearly finished,
waiting for willing and able hands under the hard overhead lights.
Seth's drawings were framed on the wall and spoke of dreams and sweat.
Tools, still shiny under a coating of dust, stood silent, waiting.
Boats by Quinn, he mused. If you wanted to grab ahold of one thing, you
had to let go of another.
"I'm not the only one who can captain the workboat or the skipjack." He
saw both the question and the understanding in Cam's eyes and jerked a
shoulder. "It's just juggling time where it needs to be spent most."
"Yeah."
"I guess I could work up a design for a cat."
"And have Seth do the drawing," Cam added and laughed when Ethan
grimaced. "We all have our strengths, pal. Art isn't yours."
"I'll think about it," Ethan decided. "And we'll see what happens next."
"Good enough. Soa" Cam drained his cup. "How'd the recipe exchange
go?"
Ethan ran his tongue around the inside of his cheek. "I'm going to have
a talk with your wife about that."
"Be my guest." Smiling, Cam plucked the cigar from Ethan's fingers and
took a trio of careless puffs. "You sure looka relaxed today, Ethan."
"I'm relaxed enough," he said evenly. "And I'd think you might have seen
fit to mention to me that Anna had some plot to improve my sex life for
me."
"I might have, if I'd known about it. Then again, since your sex life
needed some improvement, I might not." On impulse, Cam grabbed Ethan in
a headlock. "Because I love you, man." He only laughed when the elbow
plowed into his stomach. "See? It even improved your reflexes."
Ethan shifted, angled his weight, and reversed their positions. "You're
right," he said and rubbed his knuckles hard on the top of Cam's head
for good measure.
since it was his night to cook, Ethan added an egg to a bowl of ground
beef. He didn't mind cooking. It was just one of those things you did to
get through. He'd harbored a small, selfish, and purely chauvinistic
hope that Anna would take over the kitchen duties as woman of the house.
She'd squashed that hope like a bug.
Of course, having her around did spread out the chore. But the worst of
it, as far as he was concerned, was figuring out the menu. It was
different from cooking for himself. He'd learned quickly enough that
when you cooked for a family, everybody was a critic.