It took Gabby a minute—and Stephanie had to repeat the descriptions more than once—but when she was ready, she quizzed Gabby on the names. Amazingly, the names stuck, and Gabby couldn’t hide her surprise.
“Neat, huh?”
“Very,” Gabby admitted.
“It’s one of the areas I study at UNC.”
“Do you do this with everyone you meet?”
“Not specifically. Or rather, not consciously. For me, it comes almost naturally. But now you’ll really impress them.”
“Do I need to impress them?”
“No. But it’s fun to impress people anyway.” Stephanie shrugged. “Think about what I just did for you. But I’ve got one more question.”
“Go ahead.”
“What’s my name?”
“I know your name.”
“What is it, then?”
“It’s . . .” Gabby’s mouth opened soundlessly while her mind froze.
“Stephanie. Just Stephanie.”
“What? No memory tricks?”
“No. That one, you’ll have to remember.” She rose from her seat. “Come on, now that you know their names, let me go ahead and introduce you to them. And pretend you don’t already know who they are, so that way you can impress them, too.”
Introductions were made to Megan, Allison, and Liz while they watched the kids chasing one another; Joe, Laird, and Matt, meanwhile, had strolled down to the dock, loaded up with towels and coolers to greet Travis.
Stephanie hugged each of them, and the conversation turned to her progress at school. Amazingly, the memory tricks continued to work. Gabby wondered whether she should try it with some patients before she remembered she could read their names on the charts beforehand.
With some of Kevin’s co-workers, though . . .
“Hey! Y’all ready?” Travis called out. “We’re good to go, here.”
Gabby trailed a step behind the group, adjusting the T-shirt she’d worn over her bikini. In the end, she’d decided that, depending on what the other women wore, she could either take off her shirt or shorts—or maybe neither—and convince herself she hadn’t been listening to her mother.
The men were already in the boat when they got to the dock. The kids were dressed in life jackets and were handed to Joe; Laird held out his hand to help the women into the boat. Gabby stepped in, concentrating on keeping her balance amid the rocking, surprised at the size of the boat. It was longer than Travis’s ski boat by a good five feet, with bench seats that ran along both sides, which was where most of the kids and adults seemed to congregate. Stephanie and Allison (the supertall allosaurus) had made themselves comfortable at the front of the boat. At the . . . bow? The stern? . . . Gabby wondered, then shook her head. Whatever. At the back of the boat was a large platform and crank, along with Travis, who stood behind the wheel. (Blond, GI) Joe was untying the line that held the boat in place, while Laird (lair) rolled it up. A moment later, Joe moved to a spot near Travis, while Laird approached Josie (and the Pussycats).
Gabby shook her head, thinking it amazing.
“Sit by me,” Stephanie commanded, patting a spot beside her.
Gabby sat, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Travis grab a baseball hat he had tucked into a corner compartment. The cap, which she always believed looked goofy on grown men, somehow suited his carefree demeanor.
“Everyone ready?” he called.
He didn’t wait for an answer, and the boat rumbled forward, working through the gentle swell. They reached the mouth of the creek and turned south, into the waters of Back Sound. Shackleford Banks loomed ahead, grass threaded along the dunes.
Gabby leaned toward Stephanie. “Where are we going?”
“Most likely Cape Lookout. Unless the sound is relatively clear of boats, we’ll probably make for the inlet, then out into Onslow Bay. Afterward, we’ll either picnic on the boat, on Shackleford Banks, or at Cape Lookout. Kind of depends on where we end up and what everyone’s in the mood for. A lot of it depends on the kids. Hold on for a second. . . .” She turned toward Travis. “Hey, Trav! Can I drive?”
He raised his head. “Since when do you want to drive?”
“Now. It’s been a while.”
“Later.”
“I think I should drive.”
“Why?”
Stephanie shook her head, as if marveling at the stupidity of men. She rose from her spot and whipped off her T-shirt without a shred of self-consciousness. “I’ll be back in a little while, okay? I have to talk to my idiot brother.”
As Stephanie made her way toward the rear of the boat, Allison nodded toward her.
“Don’t let her scare you. She and Travis always talk to each other that way.”
“I take it they’re close.”
“They’re best friends, even if both would deny it. Travis would probably say that Laird was his best friend. Or Joe or Matt. Anyone but Stephanie. But I know better.”
“Laird’s your husband, right? The one holding Josie?”
Allison couldn’t hide her surprise. “You remembered? You just met us for a second.”
“I’m good with names.”
“You must be. You know everyone already?”
“Uh-huh.” Gabby rattled off each of the passengers’ names, feeling smug.
“Wow. You’re just like Stephanie. No wonder you two hit it off.”
“She’s great.”
“Sure, once you get to know her. But she takes a little getting used to.” She watched Stephanie lecturing Travis, one hand on the boat to steady herself, the other hand gesturing.
“How did you and Travis meet? Stephanie mentioned you live in the neighborhood.”
“We live next door to each other, actually.”
“And?”
“And . . . well, it’s kind of a long story. But to make it short, my dog, Molly, had some trouble when she had her puppies, and Travis was kind enough to come over and treat her. After that, he invited me to come.”
“He’s got a way with animals. Kids, too.”
“How long have you known him?”
“A long time. Laird and I met in college, and Laird introduced me to him. They’ve been friends since they were kids. Actually, he was the best man at our wedding. And speak of the devil . . . Hey, Travis.”
“Hey,” he said. “Should be fun today, huh?” Behind him, Stephanie was perched behind the wheel, pretending not to watch them.
“Hopefully it won’t get too windy.”
Allison looked around. “I don’t think it will.”
“Why?” Gabby pressed. “What happens if it’s windy?”
“Nothing good when you’re parasailing,” Travis answered. “Basically, the chute could collapse in places, the lines could get tangled, and that’s the last thing you want in a parachute.”
Gabby had an image of herself spinning out of control as she rushed toward the water.
“Don’t worry,” Travis reassured her. “If I even suspect a problem, no one goes up.”
“I hope not,” Allison chimed in. “But I’d like to volunteer Laird to be the first.”
“Why?”
“Because he was supposed to paint Josie’s room this week—he promised me over and over—but is it painted? Of course not. It’ll serve him right.”
“He’ll have to stand in line. Megan already volunteered Joe to go first. Something about not spending enough time with the family after work.”
Listening to their familiar banter, Gabby felt like a spectator. She wished that Stephanie hadn’t left her side; oddly, she realized, Stephanie already felt like the closest thing she had to a friend in Beaufort.
“Hold on!” Stephanie shouted, rotating the wheel.
Travis instinctively grabbed the side of the boat as it hit a large wake and the bow rose and fell with a thud. Allison’s attention was diverted to the kids, and she rushed toward Josie, who’d fallen and was already beginning to cry. Laird pulled her to her feet with one arm.
“You were supposed to be holding her!” Allison reproached him while reaching for Josie. “Come here, baby. Mommy’s got you. . . .”
“I was holding her!” Laird protested. “Maybe if Dale Earnhardt here was watching where she was going . . .”
“Don’t bring me into this,” Stephanie said, tossing her head. “I said to hold on, but I guess you didn’t listen. It’s not like I can control the swells out here.”
“But you could go a little slower. . . .”
Travis shook his head and took a seat beside Gabby.
“Is it always like this?” she asked.
“Pretty much,” he said. “At least since the kids have been around. Rest assured that each of the kids will have a few tearful moments today. But that’s what keeps it interesting.” He leaned back, planting his feet wide. “How’d you like my sister?”
With the sun behind him, his features were difficult to discern. “I like her. She’s . . . unique.”
“She seems taken with you, too. If she didn’t like you, believe me—she would have let me know. As smart as she is, she doesn’t always know when to keep her opinions to herself. If you ask me, I think she was secretly adopted by my parents.”
“I don’t think so. If you let your hair grow a little longer, you two could pass for sisters.”
He laughed. “You sound like her now.”
“I guess she rubbed off on me.”
“Did you get a chance to meet everyone else?”
“Briefly. I visited with Allison for a bit, but that’s all.”
“They’re the nicest bunch of people you’ll ever meet,” Travis said. “More like family than friends.”
She studied Travis as he pulled the baseball cap from his head, suddenly grasping what had happened. “Stephanie sent you back here to talk to me, didn’t she.”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “She reminded me that you were my guest and that I’d be rude if I didn’t make sure you were comfortable.”
“I’m fine.” She waved a hand. “If you want to go drive the boat again, feel free. I’m perfectly happy enjoying the view.”
“Have you ever been over to Cape Lookout?” Travis asked.
“No.”
“It’s a national park, and there’s a cove that’s great for little kids because the waves don’t break there. And on the far side—the Atlantic side—there’s a white-sand beach that’s unspoiled, which is almost impossible to find anymore.”
When he was finished, Gabby watched as he turned his attention to Beaufort. The profile of the town was visible; just beyond the marina where the masts of sailboats pointed toward the sky like upraised fingers, she could see the restaurants lining the waterfront. In every direction, there were boats and Jet Skis zipping past, leaving whitewashed curls of water behind them. Despite herself, she was conscious of the gentle way his body leaned against hers as the boat glided through the water.
“It’s a pretty town,” she finally said.
“I’ve always loved it,” he agreed. “Growing up, I used to dream about moving to a big city, but in the end, this is home for me.”
They turned toward the inlet. Behind them, Beaufort grew smaller; up ahead, the waters of Onslow Bay embraced the Atlantic. A solitary cloud drifted overhead, puffy and full, as if molded from snow. The gentle blue sky spread over water speckled with golden prisms of sunlight. In time, the hectic activity of Back Sound gave way to a sense of isolation, broken only by the sight of an occasional boat pulling into the shallows of Shackleford Banks. The three couples at the front of the boat were as transfixed by the view as she was, and even the kids seemed to have quieted. They sat contentedly on laps, their bodies relaxed, as if they were ready for a nap. Gabby could feel the wind whipping through her hair and the balm of the summer sun.
“Hey, Trav,” Stephanie called out, “is this okay?”
Travis broke from his reverie and glanced around.
“Let’s go a bit farther. I want to make sure we have enough room. We’ve got a rookie on board.”
Stephanie nodded, and the boat accelerated again.
Gabby leaned toward him. “How does this work, by the way?”
“It’s easy,” he said. “First, I fill the parachute and get it ready to accept the harnesses by using that bar over there.” He pointed toward the corner of the boat. “Then, you and your partner put the harnesses on, I clip those to the long bar, and you take a seat on the platform. I start the crank and you lift off. It takes a couple of minutes to reach the right height, and then . . . well, you float around. You get a great view of Beaufort and the lighthouse, and—because the weather’s been so clear—you might get to see some dolphins, porpoises, rays, sharks, even turtles. I’ve seen whales on occasion. We might slow the boat, let you dunk your feet, and then go up again. It’s a blast.”
“Sharks?”
“Of course. It’s the ocean.”
“Do they bite?”
“Some do. Bull sharks can be pretty nasty.”
“Then I’d rather not be dunked, thank you very much.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. They won’t bother you.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“I’ve never, in all the years I’ve done this, heard of anyone getting bitten by a shark while parasailing. You’re in the water for maybe two or three seconds at the most. And usually sharks feed at dusk.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“How about if I’m with you? Then would you try it? You shouldn’t miss it.”
She hesitated, then gave a quick nod. “I’ll think about it,” she offered. “I’m not promising anything.”