Amelie on board. The rest was down to fate. However things turned out, he knew he could live through a few days on a beach somewhere, whether Amelie proved to be the sweetest angel or a harpy spawned from the bowels of hell. All he had to do was keep her and himself alive – simple.
Thoughts of Amelie made him seek her out involuntarily. He found her on her knees, tugging all their supplies out so she could re-arrange them in the tiny cabin.
“What are you doing?” he couldn’t help asking.
She huffed impatiently. “What does it look like? I’m trying to fit our bags in here better. I mean,” she rolled out an eight-gallon tub of drinking water, “why does a plastic bottle need to be protected? It is splash-proof, so it can stay on the deck, or right at the entrance, here, if I can fit it in, while my clothes and electricals can go right inside and stay dry.”
Rob chuckled and rolled his eyes. “I might have known.”
“Might have known what?”
“That all women are essentially control freaks.”
Amelie scoffed. “That’s just because men can never get stuff right. Even something as simple as packing.” She gestured toward the jumble of bags with a smug smile on her face. “It’s almost as if logic is an exclusively female character trait.”
“Mmmm… That’s because men think of the practicalities. They prioritize things and deal with them in order of importance. Girls just don’t get that.”
“My clothes and electrical equipment are far more important than all that water. I can live without water until we get to Nassau. I’ll have water once I’m there. But I don’t want to waste time shopping for clothes, and the chance I’ll be able to find the same quality GHDs on an island is slim to none.”
“GH-what?”
“Flat iron. For straightening my hair.”
Rob couldn’t help laughing. “Yep. I can see the importance of having a good quality flat iron in a place where you’re certain to get your hair wet constantly, in the tropics.”
“Yeah, high humidity is a bitch.”
“So why not change your hairstyle to make it easy on yourself?”
“You wouldn’t understand.” Amelie huffed and went back to stacking bags.
Rob wanted to point out that water was essential for their survival, unlike fancy clothes and flat irons, and so it would be a really bad thing if they somehow lost the drinking water over the side, but he couldn’t think of a way to phrase it without sounding petty or rousing suspicion.
They were past the golf course and the more affluent houses lined with palm trees by the time Amelie declared herself satisfied, and the water bottles did fit back in, but right at the front of the cabin. Rob’s gaze drifted over to a side pocket, where he’d stashed innocuous items he could use as water stills, when the bottled water ran out. The bulge looked undisturbed, so he relaxed. In another compartment, he’d stashed a small first aid kit and a lighter, and Jason had fixed a small hatchet in a clip right at the back of the boat. The hunting knife was in a side pocket of his board shorts. That was one item he could not risk losing. If he fell overboard, the knife went with him.
Now that she’d finished packing, Amelie dropped in the passenger seat beside him and leaned her elbows on the console. She stared at the screens and instruments for a moment, then sighed. “I have to confess – I wouldn’t have the slightest clue what to do with all these.”
Rob chuckled. “Good thing you’ve got me on your team, then.”
She nodded thoughtfully, her eyes still glued to the console. “Yeah. I learned so many things, every single thing that passed my mind, pretty much, but boating somehow escaped my radar. If I’m gonna set up a business in the Bahamas, I’m gonna have to take a few more classes, it seems.”
What a strange thing to do, Rob thought. Why learn something you may not have a use for later? To him, that was wasted time.
The mangroves stretched thick, green
Thoughts of Amelie made him seek her out involuntarily. He found her on her knees, tugging all their supplies out so she could re-arrange them in the tiny cabin.
“What are you doing?” he couldn’t help asking.
She huffed impatiently. “What does it look like? I’m trying to fit our bags in here better. I mean,” she rolled out an eight-gallon tub of drinking water, “why does a plastic bottle need to be protected? It is splash-proof, so it can stay on the deck, or right at the entrance, here, if I can fit it in, while my clothes and electricals can go right inside and stay dry.”
Rob chuckled and rolled his eyes. “I might have known.”
“Might have known what?”
“That all women are essentially control freaks.”
Amelie scoffed. “That’s just because men can never get stuff right. Even something as simple as packing.” She gestured toward the jumble of bags with a smug smile on her face. “It’s almost as if logic is an exclusively female character trait.”
“Mmmm… That’s because men think of the practicalities. They prioritize things and deal with them in order of importance. Girls just don’t get that.”
“My clothes and electrical equipment are far more important than all that water. I can live without water until we get to Nassau. I’ll have water once I’m there. But I don’t want to waste time shopping for clothes, and the chance I’ll be able to find the same quality GHDs on an island is slim to none.”
“GH-what?”
“Flat iron. For straightening my hair.”
Rob couldn’t help laughing. “Yep. I can see the importance of having a good quality flat iron in a place where you’re certain to get your hair wet constantly, in the tropics.”
“Yeah, high humidity is a bitch.”
“So why not change your hairstyle to make it easy on yourself?”
“You wouldn’t understand.” Amelie huffed and went back to stacking bags.
Rob wanted to point out that water was essential for their survival, unlike fancy clothes and flat irons, and so it would be a really bad thing if they somehow lost the drinking water over the side, but he couldn’t think of a way to phrase it without sounding petty or rousing suspicion.
They were past the golf course and the more affluent houses lined with palm trees by the time Amelie declared herself satisfied, and the water bottles did fit back in, but right at the front of the cabin. Rob’s gaze drifted over to a side pocket, where he’d stashed innocuous items he could use as water stills, when the bottled water ran out. The bulge looked undisturbed, so he relaxed. In another compartment, he’d stashed a small first aid kit and a lighter, and Jason had fixed a small hatchet in a clip right at the back of the boat. The hunting knife was in a side pocket of his board shorts. That was one item he could not risk losing. If he fell overboard, the knife went with him.
Now that she’d finished packing, Amelie dropped in the passenger seat beside him and leaned her elbows on the console. She stared at the screens and instruments for a moment, then sighed. “I have to confess – I wouldn’t have the slightest clue what to do with all these.”
Rob chuckled. “Good thing you’ve got me on your team, then.”
She nodded thoughtfully, her eyes still glued to the console. “Yeah. I learned so many things, every single thing that passed my mind, pretty much, but boating somehow escaped my radar. If I’m gonna set up a business in the Bahamas, I’m gonna have to take a few more classes, it seems.”
What a strange thing to do, Rob thought. Why learn something you may not have a use for later? To him, that was wasted time.
The mangroves stretched thick, green
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