That feels unnecessarily accurate. Clare picked at a loose thread on her sleeve. I wanted this job before the auction. I know. I sent them my portfolio months ago.
I know. How do you know? You complain about clients when you edit. I complain elegantly. You complain in categories.
That got a small laugh from her. I bought Blue Heron because I was tired of planning everything, she said. And now I get one thing I actually planned for. And suddenly I don't know what to do with it. Evan looked at her.
Take the job. Clare's eyes narrowed. You don't get to solve this for me. I'm not. You just did.
I said what I think. You can ignore me. You're excellent at it. She looked down. That isn't the hard part.
What is? Clare took a breath. You? He didn't answer. She continued.
I know this isn't technically anything. Evan glanced around the boat. Technically, we made rules. You made rules. You signed them by continuing to show up.
I was under maritime pressure. Clare gave him a look. Then her voice softened. I didn't tell you because if I said it out loud, I had to admit there was something here that leaving might affect. Evan rested his hands on his knees.
Clare looked toward the water. You run when life gets too crowded. That's one interpretation. You bought an entire sailboat to avoid dinner. I failed to buy an entire sailboat.
Still, Evan nodded. And you? What about me? You make the decision first, then explain it after nobody can stop you. Clare opened her mouth, then closed it.
That's irritating. I learned from you. They sat quietly for a while. The kettle keychain tapped against Clare's camera bag each time the boat moved. Finally, she said, "If I go, what happens to this?"
Evan looked at her. Not at Blue Heron. At her, I don't know. The answer came 4 days later, though neither of them called it an answer. Clare had to give the agency her decision by Monday.
On Saturday morning, she asked Evan to take Blue Heron out one more time before she chose. He understood what she meant and pretended not to. They left Annapapolis under a clean sky with a mild southwest wind. The forecast called for scattered showers late in the afternoon. Evan checked it twice.
Clare noticed. You laminated it, didn't you? No. You wanted to. I considered protecting the information. That's laminating with feelings.
By noon, they were several miles out sailing easily. Clare handled the helm while Evan adjusted the jib. For almost an hour, neither mentioned California. Then the wind shifted. Evan looked west.
A dark line had formed over the water. That wasn't supposed to be here until 4. Clare followed his eyes. It's 1:30. Thank you.
Time remains functional. The first gust hit harder than expected. Blue Heron healed sharply. Clare tightened her grip on the wheel. I've got it.
I know. Another gust came. Evan reached for the main sheet. Clare got there first. I said, "I've got it."