The instant Joyce got home from having dinner with the Wangs, she raced upstairs to her office, plopped down in front of her computer, and started typing away like a woodpecker jabbing a hole into a tree trunk. But in the case of her manuscript, Joyce’s strikes against the keyboard were filling the holes in her story.
She really did hate the phrase verbal lubrication, and it annoyed her that the words sprang to her mind to describe what was happening. But there was no helping it. The events of the day and evening had provided the creative lubrication needed to get the words flowing in her brain again. Words linked together to form sentence after sentence till paragraphs of narration and dialogue filled page after page. She paused periodically to read what she had typed, corrected some typos, added a phrase here or there, then continued in her writing sprint.
Having spent her entire adult life writing, Joyce knew that both downtime and active writing time served the purpose of completing her manuscript when balanced properly. Even if she was stubborn in accepting that she needed the downtime. But Joyce really loved a good writing sprint – when the words just volunteered themselves for her use with little struggle in matching them with other eager volunteers. It was more stimulating than drinking an entire pot of coffee.
When her cellphone rang, startling her out of the world building and buzzing inside of her head, she was even more startled to see the time illuminated on the screen.
“Good morning, Julie.”
Julie cooed into the phone, “Good morning, prospective suitor. I have a proposition for you.”
The abrupt end in her writing sprint caused the high she was running off to suddenly fade. Her eyes became heavy and her jaw nearly dislocated with a long, deep yawn.
“If you keep saying things like that, Raya is going to take me off the Christmas card list.”
Julie laughed, and teased, “Good to know where your priorities are, before I got too invested in this fantasy and ended up with my heart broken.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie, but your mother sends beautiful Christmas cards. They are the highlight of my year.”
“That is exactly why you should accept my proposition. A pretty piece of paper shouldn’t take priority over the prospect of true and everlasting love.”
Even though she was alone and no one could see her, Joyce’s face blushed deep red, and she released a nervous laugh. After clearing her throat, Joyce admitted, “I don’t know if it’s because you’ve gotten better at banter or because I haven’t slept at all, but I don’t know if you’re being serious or not.”
“Up all night, writing?”
“Guilty. I made fantastic progress.” Joyce checked the word count on her manuscript. “Pumped out over twelve-thousand words since I got home.”
Julie whistled into the phone. “Nice work. And you can relax. I’m only joking about the prospective suitor bit. However, I do have a proposition. We’re going to take the boat out and have a picnic over in Hagger Cove and we want you to come with us. I know you have plans to help Avery unpack, and I know you’re not one to blow someone off once you’ve already made plans with them, even if a much better offer presents itself. So, how about you invite her along and offer to help her unpack another day?” She paused, then quickly added, “I promise I’ll behave.”
“Funny how none of you mentioned any plans last night to take the boat out today. How hard did you wrack that brilliant brain of yours to figure out the best ploy to implement so you could secure a meet and greet with Avery?”
Julie hummed into the phone, then answered, “About five minutes, maximum.”
Joyce laughed, and asked, “What time are you planning on getting to the marina?”
“Nine. Sorry you don’t have time to nap. But at least you have plenty of time to change out of your dinner dress that I know you neglected to take off before you sat down in front of your computer last night.”
“You know me so well.”
“You’re a workaholic, Joyce. Now, put that computer to sleep and call your new friend. Text me when you have an answer.”
“Okay, boss.”
After she hung up with Julie, she stood up covering a painfully huge yawn. She went straight downstairs to her kitchen, and after getting a pot of coffee brewing, she hit the call button on Avery’s contact.
After a few rings, and with her voice a bit hoarse, Avery answered, “Hello?” There was a sharp breath of air that followed, and Joyce knew the younger woman had yawned, which caused her to yawn again. “Joyce, is everything okay? It’s really early.”
“Good morning. I will make a mental note that seven is too early to call you in the future. Although, it was not my idea to call you this early.”
Avery dragged out a questioning, “Okay,” then asked, “What’s up?”
“The friends I had dinner with last night decided, spur of the moment, to take a boat ride today and picnic on the other side of the lake in Hagger Cove. Would you be interested in going? I can help you unpack later or tomorrow. If you don’t want to go, our plans don’t change.”
“Sure. Sounds like fun. What time?”
“We need to be at the marina at nine, so I guess I would need to pick you up about a quarter of.”
The breathy sound of another yawn tickled her ear, before Avery answered, “Okay. I’ll be ready. Do I need to bring any food or drinks?”
“Knowing Raya, she’ll have enough packed for a small village. Only pack something if you really have a desire for it.”
“Okay.” Avery paused while she made some racket with an unknown task, then commented, “You sound tired.”
Joyce released a small laugh and nodded to nobody. “I wasn’t till I got the call. I’ve been up all night.”
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“You are being too ambiguous for this early hour. I’ll stick a pin in this and remember to pry a real answer out of you later. I’m going to hop in the shower. See you soon.”
“Okay. Oh, wait.”
“Yeah?”
“How is your ankle feeling today?”
Joyce could hear the smile in Avery’s voice, as she answered, “Much better, thanks for asking. See you soon, Joyce.”
“See you soon.”
Inspiration was completely unpredictable and it did not care at all if its visit was inopportune. It could strike while out for a walk, while at dinner with friends, while cleaning, just as she was falling asleep, or while she was in the shower. Time, location, whether she was busy, or in the company of others seemed to be of little to no concern for inspiration. As such, Joyce was accustomed to lack of sleep.
She hoped the two cups of coffee she had before she left, and the tall thermos she packed, would be enough to keep her sharp and affable today. Even though Julie promised to behave, she couldn’t help feeling a little paranoid that if she were to fall asleep, temptation would get the better of the curious young chemist. And she didn’t want Avery to be made to feel uncomfortable.
When she pulled up in front of Avery’s house, she was surprised to see the young woman already sitting on the front stoop with a backpack sitting next to her. She had her tan, fit legs outstretched in front of her and crossed at the ankles, and she was leaning back on her hands, looking completely at ease. She smiled as she waved and pulled her legs in.
Joyce rolled her window down, and asked, “Need a crutch?”
Instead of answering, Avery stood up, shouldering her backpack, and walked to her car with just a hint of a limp in her gait. As she slid into the passenger seat next to Joyce and buckled her seatbelt, she asked, “Why didn’t you sleep last night?”
Joyce smiled as she put the car in gear. “I was working.”
“Do I get more details or is that vague answer your polite way of telling me to mind my own business?”
Joyce slowed to a stop to wait for a few runners to cross in front of them. After the road was clear again, she answered, “I’m a historical fiction author.” Even from just the corner of her eye, she could see Avery’s mouth spread into a huge smile, but she didn’t comment. “I had hit a bit of writer’s block and was out taking a break yesterday when we met. By the time I got home last night, the floodgates were open. I wrote through the night and only stopped when Julie called me, minutes before I called you.”
“You little shit.” Avery laughed as she harmlessly backhanded Joyce on her shoulder. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that yesterday.”
Joyce shrugged as a bit of pride spread across her lips. “You didn’t ask what I do.”
Avery started to protest, then became silent for a few moments with her face pinched thoughtfully. “You’re right. I didn’t. I’m sorry. Are you published?”
“No need to apologize. And, yes, I am.”
Avery bent down and fished her cellphone out of the front pocket of her backpack.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking you up.”
They drove in silence for a couple of minutes, then Avery released a sound between a whistle and a laugh. “Damn, Joyce Peterson. Twelve international bestsellers. That’s impressive. Congratulations. Oh, my god.” Avery threw her head back, covering her face with a hand and laughed. As she dropped her face and hand, she held her screen out for Joyce to glance at the cover of a particular book. “I had to read this one about the Great Depression my senior year of high school. It was pretty amazing.”
“You just made me feel so old.”
“Shut up.” Avery laughed as she backhanded Joyce’s shoulder again. “You’re not old.” While scrolling on her cellphone, Avery commented, “There are so many options to choose from.” Avery made an oohing sound. “This one about the Night Witches sounds awesome. They didn’t teach us about them in school. I first learned about them on social media. And while I was on my four-month trip in Europe, I learned a little more at a tiny World War II museum in a small town in western Poland. It wasn’t anything fancy, mostly just photographs and write-ups next to them. They had a handful of pictures of the female Soviet fighter pilots and a few paragraphs of information on their accomplishments. I told myself I was going to read more on them, but I haven’t gotten around to it. Is there a bookstore in town?”
“Books and Brews – it’s on the main square on Marina Street. I’m pretty sure I have a few copies at home though.”
“Thanks, but I haven’t earned that yet.”
“You have to earn a book?”
“A free book from the hand of the author? Yes. That gift is reserved for the author’s inner circle and maybe super fans.”
“Okay, when you’re a super fan, I’ll gift you a book.”
Avery laughed and playfully backhanded Joyce’s shoulder again. “Smartass. I’m already on the trajectory to be in the inner circle, and I’m not veering off that path.”
The bold confidence of the statement caused a flutter in Joyce’s stomach. She hazarded a glance at the younger woman before looking back at the road. But in that quick sweep of Avery’s face, the affection and excitement she was feeling was unmistakable. Joyce would be lying if she denied hoping their budding friendship would continue to grow. But that rattling can of worms that sat between them made her wonder if their trajectory was actually one of doom and gloom and not of blissful comradery. With any luck, the can’s existence was simply an ice-breaker that Avery had employed to initiate the friendship. Joyce hoped that the more they got to know each other and the more comfortable they became that the can would simply disappear.
As Joyce pulled her car into a spot at the marina, Avery sat forward in her seat, looking around with enthusiasm lighting up her face. The reaction was endearing and caused another flutter in Joyce’s stomach.
After grabbing a large canvas tote from her trunk, they walked side by side, with their hands occasionally brushing against each other’s as they maneuvered around the bustling marina.
People of all ages were standing around chatting. Some were loading coolers, bags, and fishing gear onto boats. Half a dozen topless rowdy young men were annoying a group of older fishermen by throwing a football on the dock. And a young boy, perhaps about six, was throwing chunks of bread into the water and squawking at a gaggle of geese.
After Joyce had returned the fourth wave and greeting from friends as they made their way to the Wangs’ boat, Avery whispered, “That’s what I love about small towns. You’re never too far from friends and there’s always a really good chance you might bump into them while you’re out. On the other hand, it makes it harder to avoid people you don’t like.” Avery snickered and nonchalantly pointed down the pier to a couple of men who were grumbling between each other while exchanging glares with another man several boats away. “They look like they would prefer to never see each other again.”
“Indeed. There is bad blood there.”
“Joyce!”
Julie hopped off of the side of her family’s modest yacht onto the pier and closed the distance in just a few long strides. She wrapped her thin arms around Joyce and gave her a firm kiss on the cheek.
As she pulled away, she extended a hand to Avery, saying, “Hi, I’m Julie Wang. Glad you could make it.”
Avery accepted her hand with an easy smile. “Thanks for the invitation.”
“Well, I won’t lie. The invitation was completely selfish. But I’m still glad you could join us.”
With a curious quirk of her right eyebrow, Avery questioned, “What about extending an invitation to me is selfish?”
Joyce’s stomach slightly twisted with worry that Julie was going to slip. She considered interrupting to suggest they not keep Raya and Henry waiting, but to do so would be a dead giveaway that Joyce didn’t want that question to be answered, which would definitely inch them closer to the can of worms.
However, to her great relief, Julie kept her answer friend-appropriate. “Joyce is loyal to her word, which can be inconvenient when you are not the person with whom she is presently committed to.”
Avery made an ah sound, and released a small laugh as she looked at Joyce. “That’s very sweet and honorable, especially since we barely know each other. Thank you.” She looked back at Julie, and added, “And I still appreciate the invitation, even though I’m currently just an inconvenience. Seems to be the only way I can meet people since I moved here.”
Julie’s eyes met Joyce’s in a meaningful way that caused blush to creep across her cheeks, which made Julie’s little grin twitch with words that she thankfully held back. Instead, she met Avery’s curious gaze, and answered, “I had a sociology professor in college tell our class that it’s better to be a thorn in someone’s side than to walk by them day after day and they be completely unaware of your existence. Once there is an awareness, the relationship has limitless possibilities.”
Julie waved them forward, and Joyce’s stomach tensed even further. Although she imagined the bit of wisdom came across as reassuring from Avery’s perspective, it felt more like a stealthily masked bit of banter intended to prickle Joyce’s nerves.
As they climbed up onto the yacht, Henry and Raya came out of the cabin, and Raya beamed, “Glad you both could make it on such short notice.” She extended her hand to Avery, and added, “I am Raya,” she nodded to her left, “and this is my husband, Henry.” While she took Joyce’s weighted canvas tote and motioned for them to sit on the nicely cushioned side benches, she asked, “How are you liking living in Harbor City so far?”
While Avery took a seat to Joyce’s right, leaving a few inches between their hips, she answered, “I think it’s still too early to give a fair answer to that, but it ticks all of the boxes for being a place I’ll love living, once I get settled in.”
After setting Joyce’s bag in the cabin so it wasn’t underfoot, Raya sat down next to Julie, across from Joyce and Avery. “Henry, let’s try to pull out before Heath Gunderson.” She looked at Avery, and explained, “If you cross paths with Heath, he will be one checkmark for the cons column. He is our resident jackass.”
While Henry got to work untethering them from the dock, Joyce supplemented, “Heath is the man you noticed being scowled at by the pair of disgruntled men on the pier.”
Joyce considered giving Avery a more detailed background on Heath – that he and the other men had been involved in a hunt for a lost local treasure of substantial worth. A failed hunt that ended in several suspicious deaths. But Joyce was worried the news would scare Avery away, that she would choose to pack up and move before giving Harbor City a real chance. Before giving their budding friendship a real chance.
But she was spared the need to decide now, as Julie redirected the conversation back onto Avery, asking, “If you didn’t move here for family, work, or love, what made you choose Harbor City?”
Joyce wanted to toss Julie overboard for lacking restraint, but Avery didn’t seem bothered by the directness of the question. She actually looked a little amused.
“Family, work, and love – the trifecta we’re all supposed to aspire to, as if life is about nothing else. I assume work is what motivated you to move away from Harbor City?”
The challenging response spawned a twinkle of delight in Julie’s soft brown eyes and the right corner of her mouth curled with eagerness to accept.
“Work is the vehicle for my motivation, which is to reimagine and realign modern medicine so its compounds and administration methods strengthen the body, rather than control it. Is not your career as a travel journalist just a vehicle for you to explore the world and all it has to offer?”
Avery licked her lips as she tilted her head to look at Joyce with a grin and her right eyebrow lifted. “Were you talking about me last night, Joyce Peterson?”
“Of course.”
Avery released a scoffing laugh and bumped shoulders with her, and despite the warning signals flashing across her mind that this conversation could spell disaster, the affectionate contact filled Joyce with a level of giddiness that made her feel reckless.
As if reading a newspaper headline, Joyce teased, “A clumsy young woman distracted by a butterfly gets trapped in a hole on the lakeshore at low tide. If not for Harbor City’s resident author springing into action, she would have perished when the tide rolled in. That’s about how the conversation went.”
“Springing into action?” Avery laughed hard and bumped her shoulder again. “More like you leisurely strolled up and mocked me till I asked for your help. What other details did you twist?”
Raya sweetly answered, “Your version is actually how she told the story last night,” then added, “And feel free to put my inquisitive daughter in her place if her questions are too personal or intrusive.”
“No, it’s fine. It is personal, but it’s nothing I’m ashamed to talk about. I just avoid it if I can because it makes other people feel awkward and ask awkward questions.”
Without worrying about the can of worms or the way it would be perceived by her friends, Joyce placed a hand on Avery’s knee, and softly told her, “You don’t have to tell us.”
“Thanks.” Avery smiled as she rested her hand over Joyce’s. “But I would have told you eventually. I grew up in foster care, from the age of six till I turned eighteen, and between that time, I was shuffled between nine families and group homes. One year, I was moved three times.” She met Julie’s sad, slightly ashamed looking expression. “I can’t move for family because I don’t have any. I don’t move for my career because I’m self-employed and I can do my job from anywhere. And I don’t move for love because I haven’t found a love worth moving or staying for. I move under my own terms. I go where I want, when I want, and stay for as long as I want.”
After allowing a few moments of silence, as if to make sure Avery was done speaking, Julie quickly apologized. “I’m sorry I insensitively hit you with the trifecta. There were better ways I could have asked and I’ll be sure to never repeat that mistake with someone else. I was just curious what had made you move to Harbor City since it’s a small town and not very close to an airport.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to it by now. Those are the only three reasons why people seem to believe someone moves. Do you want the simple because I want to answer or the long, somewhat awkward answer?”
Julie smiled, and admitted, “I always want the long answer, if it’s something you don’t mind sharing.”
“When I aged out of foster care and graduated high school, I was basically tossed out on the street. While I looked for work, I lived between a few women’s shelters. The first year was the hardest. But I worked just about any job I could get and saved as much money as I could. The first apartment I could afford was a shoebox. But it was all mine and I loved it. While I was working and trying to survive, I wrote articles about local attractions or places I could get a cheap bus or train ticket to. When I had enough money saved to get a plane ticket, I moved to Florida and started all over again. I guess the first few moves I made weren’t just about where I wanted to live. The areas were destination worthy, so they gave me a ton of writing material to sell more articles and start my own monetized blog. Now that I can afford to, I’m working on separating work from home as much as possible.”
Leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, Julie breathed, “Damn. I definitely understand why you try to skirt around the subject. I have so many questions that I’m dying to ask you. It must have been really hard starting a career like that. Acquiring access to a computer, camera, and the internet must have been difficult in the beginning. Have you ever thought about writing a personal memoir?”
“I’ve thought about it. But I probably won’t, at least not any time soon.” The question was practically written across Julie’s forehead, so Avery explained, “I don’t want my life story to be the thing that defines me and my relationships.”
Henry poked his head out of the cabin, and with a broad grin, he tipped the brim of his captain’s hat, and told them, “All safety checks are done. We’re taking off.”