Love, Unexpected

“I wish you’d told me about this order,” Art said, his tone accusatory and plaintive.

Forcing a reassuring, soothing tone of voice, Zeke said, “No big deal.” He turned to Andi, whose now solemn gaze was focused on his dad. Zeke’s chest was heavy with raw impatience. No excuses, no weaseling out of the reality that irritation with his dad had nearly gotten the better of him. And over a shipment of raincoats.

So often the what’s-next? question loomed in Zeke’s mind. His fears of what was ahead were a constant presence, part of being vigilant, always on guard. What if his dad had managed to pack that merchandise and send it back? When he played the question out, all the way to the end, he relaxed long enough to see it could have been written off as a simple mistake and quickly corrected. But what was happening to his dad wasn’t so easily fixed.

Since he’d brought Andi into their small world, he’d need to give her a heads-up. Regret lodged in his chest. Maybe he’d made a big mistake. Scrapping Drifting Dreamer would have been a whole lot easier.

Brooke’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Where did Teddy go?”

“He’s probably flopped down in his bed next to the file cabinets,” Art said, grinning. “You probably tuckered him out. He’s not used to having a lively kid around.” Art pointed to the open door to the office. “Why don’t we go see what he’s up to?”

“Maybe he needs water or something,” Brooke said, following Art.

Andi smiled as she moved closer to the counter. “You should have seen Brooke just now. She caught a little of the excitement about living on the boat, discovering how many cubbyholes and shelves she has in her cabin.”

Zeke nodded, but then gestured around him. “Sorry I had to run off so fast, but real life intruded around here.”

“No problem,” Andi said, patting one of the boxes. “Since I’m already here, why don’t I help you finish unpacking this carton? You said it has the kids’ jackets? I can pick out the size for Brooke and let her try it on.”

Zeke responded forcefully. “You don’t need to do that.”

“But I want to.” She held his gaze, almost challenging him. “I insist.”

“Well, okay, follow me.” He carried the carton to the display table in their clothing section and explained the process of getting them displayed and ready to sell.

“Sounds straightforward enough. And I’m sure I’ll find a new jacket for Brooke.” She leaned toward him. “Is everything okay—with Art, I mean?”

Zeke shook his head, grateful for the opening handed to him. “Something’s off. It’s not your imagination. I’ll explain later when we’re alone. But Art’s fine most of the time.”

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