The Arrangement novel · Chapter 11 of 24

Chapter 11: The Boathouse

We drove to Gull Point in two cars, with his headlights in my rearview mirror the whole way.

I don't know why he asked me to follow him.

I only know that in the lot at the Anchor Diner, he said, "I'm going to open the boathouse tonight, before I lose my nerve."

I said, "I'm coming," and neither of us argued.

The house was dark when we got there.

The housekeeper's window glowed yellow at the back, and nothing else did.

He parked on the gravel and walked down the lawn without a flashlight.

He had walked this lawn in his sleep since he was a boy.

I followed him down the wet grass to the water.

The boathouse sat at the end of a short dock, long and low and shingled, with a padlock the size of my fist.

Caspar took a key off his ring.

It was the only brass key on it, and it was worn smooth.

"I've carried it for twenty years," he said. "I've never used it."

The lock gave with a groan.

He shouldered open the big door, and the smell came out at us, tar and cold stone and old rope.

I found a switch by the wall.

A single bare bulb came on over a wooden skiff on sawhorses.

She was twelve feet long, painted white and green, with brass oarlocks gone black.

MARIGOLD was painted across her stern in letters a boy had once been proud of.

Caspar stood very still in the doorway.

I watched him look at her.

The boat looked back at him.

"There's a dent in the bow," he said. "From the rock."

"Okay."

"I thought she'd be smaller."

"You were twelve."

"I was." He took a step in. "I'm having trouble with the floor."

"The floor?"

"It's moving."

It wasn't, but I put my hand flat on his chest anyway.

His heart was going.

"Breathe in for four," I said.

"You sound like Lucy."

"She's right. Breathe out for six."

He breathed.

Through the open boathouse doors behind us we could hear the bay, a small slap of black water on the pilings.

His hand closed over mine.

"Don't let go," he said.

"I'm right here."

We stood like that until his pulse slowed under my palm.

Then he walked to the end of the slip, where the slick boards dropped off into the dark.

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