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Denise Campbell cringed. She had no idea why hearing her older sister Maureen’s crooning “Speed bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing over the sea to Skye,” bugged her so much. Maureen had a lovely alto voice, but everything she’d said or did irritated Denny since they’d boarded the jet in Newark, New Jersey. And their father had hated this song for some unknown reason. He’d taken his distaste for the lyrics to his grave.
But Denny dared not complain since Maureen was paying for everything—first-class tickets, a five-star hotel—and had planned the whole trip. But this pint-size ferry boat was too freaky. A wave could tip it over.
Amanda, Maureen’s fourteen-year-old daughter, stood a few feet away with Lydia, her Amish nanny, whom Maureen had insisted on bringing. The twenty-three-year-old wasn’t dressed Amish, and her hair was lobbed short. When Denny asked Maureen about it, her sister confided that Lydia Fisher was jumping the fence—leaving the Amish community to live as an Englischer, meaning like everyone else in the United States. Maureen said she’d taught Lydia how to drive a car and helped her obtain a driver’s license and a passport. Even allowed her to watch TV and use the internet. Things that were verboten for the Amish, according to Maureen, who’d called Denise Denny so long that it had stuck. Pretty much everyone did. Not that Denny minded all that much.
Chilly gusts of salty wind bit into Denny’s cheeks. She was glad she was wearing her fleece jacket, but she’d neglected the gloves that were packed away at the bottom of her carry-on. Her fingers felt like icicles. No, that was wrong. She couldn’t even feel them.
She’d read in a travel book at the shop that there was a bridge erected nearby, but Maureen had insisted they take the ferry. The old-fashioned way. No use arguing with Maureen.
Pulling her shoulder length hair back out of her eyes, Denny listened to gulls circling the small ferry’s bow as she let random thoughts zigzag in her head. Maureen had everything, including a husband, a cute and spunky teen daughter, and a celebrity job, while Denny remained single. She’d given up searching for a husband who would take care of her, meaning a man she could confide in and let her rest her weary head on his shoulder. Denny had decided she would be content to remain childless and single for the rest of her life. If she told herself that often enough, she might believe it.
At least she owned her own business, a used bookstore that brought in a pittance. But Denny was proud of her accomplishments. Not that her sister or father had shared her pride. Still, she missed him. Greatly. And of course, her mother. She missed Mom every day of the week.
Maureen had always been the favorite child, but what did it matter now? And Maureen’s husband was a creep as far as Denny was concerned. He’d had the gall to make a pass at Denny—several times. But she never complained for fear of causing a rift between Maureen and herself. Denny’s best guess was that he wanted to get rid of her. He didn’t like feisty Denny hanging around his complacent, gullible wife. No use saying anything negative about her husband. Maureen would plug her ears and refuse to believe it. As far as Maureen was concerned, her husband was perfect, even though Denny knew the truth. James was a lying, cheating SOB who would say or do anything to win a case. That’s why women whose husbands had cheated on them flocked to him. And he had proven himself to be a winner. Raked in the dough for his clients.
Choppy water bounced the little ferry like a toy in a swimming pool with a dozen kids diving in. Denny gripped the railing. Her biggest trepidation was that she would die childless without a husband to love her. She had never shared her fears with anyone and never would. But when she thought about it, she should have feared that her parents would die prematurely. Way before expected. Her head still gyrated at the inconceivable reality. She’d felt like an orphan ever since their demise.