“But I’m . . . not comfortable on the water,” Merritt said. “And I don’t even know what a jonboat is.”
Owen piped up. “It’s a flat-bottomed boat that was originally used by the old fur traders, but is still used today for traveling in shallow creeks and marshes.”
“We call them stump-knockers, too, because that’s what you do with them in the shallow water. They used to be called bateaux, which means boats in French,” Maris added. Owen looked at her with surprise and she gave him a smug smile.
“And I have a life jacket for everyone—including two children’s jackets—and I’m a really good swimmer. There is absolutely nothing to worry about.” Gibbes sounded like a man offering to feed a rattlesnake, and Loralee sent him her mama look to get him to quit.
She had once seen a movie about the French Revolution with a scene of a woman being led to get her head chopped off. Merritt looked a little bit like that woman.
Her face lit up briefly. “I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“Just shorts and a T-shirt is all you need,” Gibbes said.
“I don’t have that either.”
Loralee almost expected Merritt to swipe her hands together like she’d finished a complicated task and was ready for something else.
“I do,” Loralee almost shouted. “And you can borrow anything you want. I’m pretty sure we’re the same size.”
Merritt and Gibbes looked at Loralee as if she’d just told a bald-faced lie. They would have to wait and see, because she was confident that Merritt had a body hidden under those drab clothes and it was time to let the world know.
“Please, Merritt,” Owen whined, using a tone that usually got him sent to his room. “Daddy had a boat, too, and he used to always take me out on the lake to go fishing or just ride around. It was our favorite thing to do. It would be real neat going out on a boat with you. Kind of like Daddy being right there with us.” Owen had never been fishing in his life, but Loralee was prepared to let the lie slide unremarked.
Loralee winced, hoping Merritt didn’t remember Owen telling Gibbes that he’d never been fishing before. Still, if they’d been alone, Loralee would have hugged her little boy for such a performance. But something in his face told her he wasn’t completely playacting. She wished they’d had more time to mourn Robert, for her to give Owen his chance to grieve instead of taking him away from the only home he’d known. One day he’d understand. She didn’t allow herself to second-guess her belief that one day he would. Because he would just have to.
Merritt must have seen that in his face, too, because her own face softened just like Owen’s did right before he fell asleep.
“Unless you don’t mind a ten-year-old girl in pigtails showing you up. Of course, you might prefer staying here to inventory the attic.” Gibbes’s voice was filled with a challenge, baiting her.
Merritt gave him a hard look before turning to Owen. “If we’re not going anywhere near the ocean, and we stick to the little creeks, we should be okay. I’m sure I have a pair of old pants. . . .”
Loralee didn’t let her continue. Instead, she grabbed her by the elbow and began leading her to the stairs. “Owen, please take Maris back to the kitchen and finish packing up the basket. Merritt and I will be down in ten minutes.” She glanced at Merritt’s pale, pinched face. “Maybe closer to fifteen,” she added.
They were halfway up the stairs when Owen called up. “Maybe we’ll see some dolphins.”
Merritt’s arm stiffened under her fingers, but Loralee just gripped harder, pulling her along. She dragged her into her room and sat her down on the step stool she’d found in the pantry and had placed in front of her dressing table.
Loralee began rummaging through one of her drawers, tossing possibilities on the bed.
“Absolutely not,” Merritt said, pointing to the hot-pink strapless two-piece bathing suit. “Don’t you have Bermuda shorts, or capri pants? And something with sleeves in case it gets cool?”
Loralee looked up at Merritt for a moment to see whether she was serious, then went back to rummaging, finally deciding on something they could both agree on. Handing the shorts and shirt to Merritt, Loralee said, “Take these and put them on. I’m going to dig in my cosmetics case to see if I’ve got something that would work.”
“I am not wearing makeup to go out on a boat. That’s ridiculous.”
Loralee sighed, finally letting her exasperation out. “It’s got an SPF of fifty, and I’ll make it look natural so nobody even knows you’re wearing any.”