He Voted Me Off the Island, So I Left Him Stranded novel · Chapter 2 of 24
Chapter 2: Account Holder
Ben tells her the Tuesday boat does not exist, and Brant tells her not to be dramatic.
The app gave me a green check mark and a short message.
Return crossing cancelled. The captain has been notified.
I sat down on the bench outside the ticket shed with my tote bag between my feet.
My suitcase was on an island I could not reach, and my phone had a four percent charge.
I opened the booking page again and cancelled the rest.
The crew who would close the house on Monday.
The grocery boat that was due Sunday afternoon.
The firewood delivery I had set up for the evening.
Each one asked me if I was sure.
I had been sure of Brant for six years, so I pressed yes.
"They don't give refunds on the firewood," a man's voice said. "I'd check that."
He was standing at the corner of the shed with a mug in each hand.
He was tall and heavy through the shoulders, with a short dark beard and a gray wool cap pulled low.
He held one mug out until I took it.
"Ben Corbett. I run the water taxi."
He nodded at a small white boat tied up at the end of the pier.
"I was in the shelter. I saw the whole thing."
"Of course you did."
"Everyone did. The woman behind me asked if it was a reality show."
He sat on the far end of the bench.
"I told her it was a family."
The coffee was strong and burned the roof of my mouth, and I was grateful for it.
"His mother said there was a Tuesday boat," I said. "Brant texted it."
"There isn't one."
"I know," I said. "I made the schedule."
Ben looked at me for a moment.
"The Marigold goes out for the season Monday," he said.
"After that nothing crosses to Tern Island until April except me. And I only go when somebody calls and pays."
"So she told me to wait for a boat that doesn't exist."
"Sounds like it."
I laughed, and it came out cracked.
"She called it a formality," I said.
"I don't know the family."
He turned his mug in his hands.
"I know she carried that box in herself, and she counted a long time for eight little papers."
I did not answer that.
I told myself it was the cold.
My phone lit up on my knee. Brant.
I let it ring twice, and then I answered.
"Fern, thank God."
His voice came in and out. He was standing on some rock with one bar of signal.
"Where are you? Are you still at the dock?"
"I'm on the bench."
"Okay. Okay, good. Listen, Mom is really upset that you made it a scene."
"I didn't say anything to your mother."
"That's what I'm telling you, it was the look. You looked at her."
He breathed out.
"It's one weekend. Don't be dramatic. Take the day, get some sleep, and we'll fix it Tuesday."
"You wrote no, Brant."
"I wrote what the rule said."
"What did the rule say?"
"Fern." He sounded tired. "Please. I can't do this on the rocks with one bar of signal."
A pause.
"Can you do me one thing before you go home?"
"Mom wants the grocery list for Sunday's boat so she can add the cheese she likes."
I closed my eyes.
"I'll send it to you Tuesday," I said.
"Love you," he said, and he was gone before I could answer.
I put the phone face down on the bench.
I had four percent and a mug of coffee, and I had stopped feeling my hands.
"The Sunday boat is cancelled," Ben said, mildly. "I'd guess nobody's told him that."
"Not yet."
"Mm." He drank. "You know I'm the only other boat, right?"
I turned on the bench and looked at him.
He was not smiling.
He looked at the open water past the breakwater, where the Marigold had been, and then he looked at me.
"Nobody has called me yet," he said. "Nobody's paid."
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