A young crew member named Leo met me at the gangway when I returned. He was nineteen years old, new to the job, and looked like someone who had just lived through a very long hour.
He explained that my family had arrived while I was out. They had known my name, my company, and the fact that I was gone. My father had told Leo that if he called me to warn me, he would personally see to it that Leo lost his position.
Leo was weeks away from a permanent contract. My father had known exactly which pressure point to press.
I told Leo he had done nothing wrong. I told him to go take his break. He left looking both relieved and deeply uncomfortable, the way young people often do when they have been placed in a situation that was never theirs to carry.
I gripped the rail of the aft deck and breathed in the salt air.
The water in the marina caught the late afternoon light and turned it dull silver. A couple walked hand in hand along the far dock. A jet ski moved through the channel beyond.
I stood there for a while, letting the familiar sounds settle around me, before I went back inside.
The Demand
My older brother James was stretched across the salon sofa as though he had always lived there.
Bare feet on my coffee table. Phone in his hand. A smirk on his face when he looked up and saw me.
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