Catch of the Day by Kristan Higgins

Author:Kristan Higgins
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: American Light Romantic Fiction, Fiction - Romance, Romance: Modern, Contemporary, General, Romance, Romance - Contemporary, Fiction, Romance - General
ISBN: 9780373775651
Publisher: HQN Books
Published: 2010-05-01T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“FOOSH,” Violet says, patting Colonel. “Mubba.”

“That’s close, honey,” I tell her. “It’s doggy. Can you say doggy?”

She opts to kiss Colonel instead, leaving him with a large wet spot on his side and her with a mouthful of fur. Colonel wags his beautiful tail as Christy swoops in with a tissue, smiling and grimacing at the same time.

“You love Colonel, don’t you, Violet?” she asks. “He’s a nice dog.”

“Maggie, for heaven’s sake, don’t let the baby lick that dirty animal,” my mother says.

“Colonel is not dirty,” I snap. “He’s immaculate. Look at that coat. People stop us in the street to tell me how beautiful he is. I brush him every—”

“Christy, there’s still a hair on her lip. There you go. Come here, Violet.” My mother appropriates the baby, taking her off to an area free from germs and dog hair. We’ve gathered for our command family dinner, and while my mother is a fine cook, I feel as welcome as a cockroach in a salad. Dad is in the den, reading and hiding, and Will, Christy and I sit in the living room, waiting for our summons to the table.

“She’s really on my case these days,” I tell Christy.

“I’ll say,” Will agrees. “That’s all we hear about at work.”

“Are you kidding me?” I ask. “She talks about me at your office?”

Christy shoots Will the “shut up” glare, and he pretends he doesn’t hear me and reads the paper instead.

At that moment, my brother bursts through the door. “You’ll never guess what happened today,” he blurts.

“Three women came to your doorstep, announcing that you’re the father of their babies,” I guess.

“No. Stop joking around, it’s serious.” He flops down into a chair. “Malone went overboard.”

“What?” Christy and I bark simultaneously. Panic floods my limbs, and it feels like my heart drops to my knees.

“He was pulling up a pot, and this Masshole came by in a speed boat, tangled the line, and bam. Malone went right over.”

“So what happened? Is he okay?” I ask my brother. Adrenaline makes my joints feel too loose and electrified.

“Masshole?” Will murmurs. He’s from away, having only moved to Maine during his residency.

“Massachusetts tourist,” Christy tells him.

“Jonah, is he all right?” I repeat. My palms are slick with sweat.

“He’s all right,” Jonah says. “He wasn’t caught in the line, thank God, but he was in the water for about twenty minutes, half an hour. Got wicked cold.”

The water in the Gulf of Maine is cold enough to cause death if you’re in it long enough. Every few years, it seems, a lobsterman drowns when he goes overboard, tangled in the line that connects his pot to the buoy. Even if they don’t get pulled under, an arm caught in the line can be torn right off. Or sometimes they simply can’t climb back aboard. A lot of lobstermen work alone, especially in the off season.

“Was he wearing a survival suit?” I manage weakly.

“No,” Jonah says grimly. “Just his coveralls. Must be colder than a witch’s tit.

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