Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
It was later in the day, after almost everyone had gone home and I’d taken the dogs outside to throw the ball for them, that I overheard Doc and Grandpa talking about me.
“I just worry that he’s doing the same thing Winnie did after Alex,” Grandpa said over the sound of plates clinking. I’d offered to do the dishes earlier, but he’d refused. It sounded like they were sharing dish duty now.
“Maybe. But throwing yourself into work when you’re only twenty-three isn’t a bad thing,” Doc replied.
“There’s no point to work without love,” Grandpa said, ever the romantic. “You can bury your head in the sand of hard work all you want, but eventually you’ll come back up and look around to find yourself alone with nothing to show for it but a well-run ranch and an empty bed.”
I heard the soft smacking sound of a quick kiss. “Your bed hasn’t been empty in fifty years.”
“It was a close thing,” Grandpa muttered. “If it hadn’t been for that cowhand…”
I wandered off before hearing more than I bargained for. Our family lore already sported a TMI story about Doc watching Grandpa get head in the barn. It had come out one night after Doc had drunk four too many margaritas at Taco Tuesday. There was no way I was subjecting myself to that horror again.
I walked the dogs over to Grandpa’s chicken yard to check out his collection. I never remembered the names of all the varieties, but I loved looking at their black-and-white feathers and funky hairdos. There was even a peacock in the mix, but it wasn’t interested in displaying its wares for me today.
I thought about Winnie. It was true she’d thrown herself into work and sworn off relationships after Alex broke her heart. She’d become bitter to the point Hallie had made it her life’s goal to snap her twin out of it and at least go on one date.
Winnie refused, and I remembered her saying she disagreed with the “better to have loved and lost bullshit.”
I thought back to the question MJ had asked me at breakfast.
What’s your dream scenario?
I’d told her about my idea for forgetting about a big camp program and starting with a small school first. I could work the sailing school during the season and then get another job in the off-season to help support myself and save up money to eventually offer for either the Campside Cove property or another large parcel of land to put a camp on. Only, I didn’t want a camp for privileged kids with lots of money for an elite sailing experience. I wanted the camp to be specifically for underprivileged and disabled kids.
One of the jobs I’d had when I’d first moved to the Caribbean had been adaptive sailing, and I’d even talked to Annie about how we could add adaptive options to her existing programs. She’d worried about the liability issues involved, which was why I’d wanted to talk to MJ about the legal aspects.
My sister was smart as shit, and she’d immediately pointed out that there were most likely a ton of charities and grants that would help support the development of an adaptive program like the one I had in mind.
She was right. I’d thought I’d need to work hard for a few years to save up the money, but what if I didn’t?
What if I could use my cabin as the school and build out a dock to house the boats? I could start small, maybe only four or five boats. I’d have all winter to apply for the grants while renovating the cabin and getting everything ready. Hell, I could even find a job in Hobie and save money by living here on the ranch. Hudson and Charlie always let me work at the pub when I was home and needed money.
I started getting excited the more I thought about it. Maybe I could build something of my very own from scratch, something to be proud of, something to work hard at and build over time.
The memory of Worth talking about his father came unbidden into my mind. One night after sex, we’d curled around each other and talked for hours. We shared the experience of being raised by parents who prioritized career ambition over family time, and he’d told me several stories about his father using “work product” as an indicator of personal value.
I’d fallen prey to the exact same thing, thinking I needed to get a career that I could use to prove myself. But what did I really want?
To help people find joy on the open water, especially people who didn’t already have relatively easy access. That meant people with challenges not easily overcome.
My brain was buzzing with ideas and burgeoning excitement as I wandered past the barn and around the bunkhouse. Hudson was visible in a small grazing area past the horse ring. It looked like he was working his dog, Mama, with some of the sheep in the pasture. I wandered over to lean against the fence and watch.