How to Keep a Secret

“Thanks.” She slid her hands round the mug for warmth. Hot chocolate. She remembered Ed making her hot chocolate when she was very young. The ache in her chest came back. “So this boat has sails, but also an engine? You know about engines?”

“I know enough.”

“I like physics. And I’m pretty good at it. Last year I wanted to do engineering, but now I’m not sure. I might like to be a computer scientist, but most of what I know is self-taught. I guess I don’t really know what I want to do. I’m supposed to have it figured out, but it’s hard to have it all figured out at sixteen. Did you?”

“I still don’t have it all figured out.”

She found that reassuring. She sipped her drink and discovered hot chocolate could be as delicious at sixteen as it was at six. The creamy warmth spread through her, heating her insides. “So far I’ve done most of the talking. Tell me something else about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Do you have any other relations? Cousins? Aunts?”

“No.”

“No one?” She felt a stab of shock. “I’m all you’ve got? That’s bad.”

A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. “I’ll let you know.”

“Now I feel a huge responsibility to be perfect. That’s a lot of pressure for one person.”

“I’ve yet to meet a perfect human.”

“In case you’re worried, don’t be. I don’t have expectations. So far when it comes to fathers I haven’t exactly hit the jackpot.”

“I’d say you hit the jackpot.” He took the steps back up to the deck and she fin

ished her chocolate and followed him, curious.

Something about the way he moved around the boat made her think he was annoyed.

Probably with her. Annoying people was her specialty.

“You think you’re up for father of the year?”

“Not me. Ed.”

It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. “Ed?”

He lifted the lid on a locker and pulled out a rope. “Do you know how to coil a mooring line?”

“What? No, of course not.” The wind turned the surface of the water choppy and she braced her legs to help balance against the roll of the boat. “You think my da—I mean, Ed was a good father?”

“Forget it.”

“I don’t want to forget it. I want to know why you said that. You didn’t even know him.”

“How about knots? Can you tie a bowline? Figure eight? Reef knot?” He closed the locker with such force she jumped.

“I was born and raised in London. It’s not exactly a necessary life skill in a city. He lied, you know.”

“You’ve never lied?”

Mack turned pink. She’d lied a few minutes ago, back on the dock. But that was different. That was a small lie. “He and my mom basically lied my entire life.”

Scott didn’t respond to that. “You should learn. Knowing how to tie a secure knot might come in useful one day.”

Mack tried to work out when. Maybe she could tie a knot in Kennedy’s neck.