After sitting down with her parents and Dr. Dash, our camp psychologist, we’d agreed on a plan of action for both of them. Finn carried a heavy load of guilt over the bicycle accident that had resulted in the loss of Lottie’s right arm, and Lottie had fallen into the trap of thinking she needed a literal right-hand man to accomplish anything.
The two of them were thriving at Camp Spinnaker. Finn had bonded right away with a boy in his cabin named Dex, and Lottie had quickly fallen under the spell of Sassy, who seemed to have finally found her calling as a youth activities director and DFPS liaison.
“Tomorrow you’ll be on your own with me, Lottie,” I said. “Finn is playing in the soccer game during our sailing time.”
Even though she still gripped the main sheet in her hand, she made a fist around it and fist-pumped. “Yes! I can do it, Coach Cal. I promise.”
I wasn’t quite sure how I’d become “Coach Cal” to all of our campers. It had started the first winter we’d owned Campside Cove. Hobie youth soccer had needed an extra field, and we’d volunteered the use of the one at the camp. That had quickly led to me being roped into coaching a team, which I didn’t mind, and then I was simply Coach Cal to any kid I met. Worth thought it was hilarious, especially when we were about to fuck and he exclaimed, “Put me in, Coach!”
He wasn’t as funny as he thought.
Now that I also coached the high school sailing team, it seemed more natural to be called Coach, but it still sometimes made me feel older than I was. More capable. Worth only laughed when I started whining about being an imposter.
“You’re the most capable person I know, sweetheart,” he’d say patiently. “Well, besides your brother West, but he’s kind of a geek that way.”
Lottie dropped the sheet into the cam cleat before using her hand to raise the centerboard partway as we skimmed through a shallow spot on our way back to the dock. The motions were becoming more and more natural, and she was almost ready to experiment with a little heeling. We’d waited until her swimming proficiency increased in case she went overboard, but the swim instructor gave me the green light this morning.
This time Lottie came about and tacked slowly toward the dock until dropping the sheet and letting the boom go where it wanted as we drifted the final few feet.
“Textbook approach, Captain,” I said, reaching for the edge of the dock so I could hold us still while Finn tied us up.
Lottie’s camp counselor was waiting for both of them at the end of the dock, but she waited patiently until Finn and Lottie had helped with all of the tasks involved in stowing the boat for the night. After they’d headed off to clean up for dinner, I finished securing some of the other boats and latching the dockside storage bins closed. The sound of frogs and crickets ramped up as dusk approached over the lake.
I loved this time of day. It was my favorite. The gentle ting sounds of rigging knocking against masts as the boats bobbed in the water, the fresh, piney scent of the nearby clusters of trees, and the distant laughter of kids getting ready to head to dinner after a full day of fun and learning. I closed my eyes and breathed in. If only Worth had been here to share it with me, it would have been perfect.
He’d had to fly up to Boston for a meeting earlier this week, and I’d secretly breathed a sigh of relief for some time alone. When Worth had moved to Hobie, he’d committed to limiting travel to strictly necessary trips in order to focus on setting up the camp and spending time together in the process. He’d been terrified of treating me as secondary to his career, even going so far as to offer to sell or dismantle Spinnaker Capital. I hadn’t wanted that. In fact, I’d encouraged him to set up his own Spinnaker office in Hobie so that he had a place to go to work every day and focus on what made him happy.
“Baby, you make me happy,” he’d said a million times.
“Right, but besides me. You love helping people’s businesses. You love what you do with your firm. You can do your work and I can do mine, and we can come together at night and catch each other up on it.”
He’d reluctantly agreed, but it hadn’t taken him long to see how beneficial it was. It didn’t hurt that he’d established his office in a historical home near King’s art consulting firm and West’s medical practice. He was surrounded by Wildes if he ever wanted company for lunch or needed help with anything. And even when he didn’t.