The Sound of Glass

Gibbes looked offended. “I certainly hope so, since I’m planning on putting all of us in it. It’s an heirloom—used to belong to my grandfather, and then my father, and then Cal and I used it when we were boys.”


The mention of Cal’s name stole the fight from me, and I didn’t mention any other reservations I had about getting into such an old boat, instead surreptitiously checking for holes in the bottom and sides.

As Gibbes maneuvered the ancient boat closer to the dock, I slathered on even more sunscreen. I eyed Loralee’s perfect sun-kissed skin and how she didn’t seem to be sweating. Even her hair was unfazed by the humidity, falling around her shoulders in soft waves. My only consolation was the thought that if she were up in Maine, her teeth would be chattering once the sun set and the temperature dropped below sixty.

As promised, Gibbes had life jackets for all of us. He took over putting the ones on the children while Loralee assisted me with mine. She tightened the straps so that it wouldn’t slip off over my head if I managed to find my way into the water—which, Gibbes assured me, wasn’t going to happen while he was captain of the boat—then turned around so I could adjust hers.

I tugged on one of the side straps and she began to giggle.

“What’s wrong?”

“The front buckle doesn’t seem to want to stay buckled.”

I moved in front of her and figured out the problem immediately. Her bust was simply too large. We both looked down at the two straps that circled her waist and she giggled again. “I don’t think I need to worry about that top one—the other two won’t be able to slide past my chest anyway.”

I blushed, unable to think of a response that wouldn’t make me blush harder. Gibbes gently moved me aside and began adjusting Loralee’s straps so that all the buckles would work. His fingers were sure and steady and never paused even when they passed over her chest. He was a doctor, and though he just treated children now, I knew that during med school and his residency he’d probably seen lots of patients of both sexes and all ages in various stages of undress. Still, I couldn’t look, wondering at my irrational anger, and blaming it on Loralee, whose biggest success in life was apparently attracting men. I thought blaming her would make me feel better, but it didn’t.

I was relieved to see she’d at least changed into flat-soled sandals, so I didn’t have to worry about her top-heavy self tumbling into the water. Owen stepped into the boat first as Gibbes held it steady from the dock. Owen began scooting toward the rear seat when Maris, still standing on the dock, cleared her voice loudly while crossing her arms and looking at him expectantly through blue plastic sunglasses.

“Owen,” Loralee said, lowering her chin and sending him a meaningful glance.

With a heavy sigh, he braced himself before reaching his hand out to the little girl. Maris was strong and agile despite being so petite, and it was obvious to anyone other than the blind that she could get into the boat without any help. I turned my head so he wouldn’t see me smile, only to find that Loralee and Gibbes were doing the same thing.

Loralee got in next, with help from both Owen and Gibbes. She seemed unsteady, which surprised me, since I knew she was used to boats. Gibbes held on to her forearm with a tight grip, not letting go until she’d sat down.

“Thank you,” she said to Gibbes, flashing him a brilliant smile.

He turned to me and paused, as if unsure how to handle me.

“I’m sure I can do it myself,” I said, not agreeing at all but wanting to somehow separate myself from Loralee. As if he couldn’t tell we were completely different just by looking at us.

I moved forward but, as if he hadn’t heard me, he held out his hand. “Humor me, okay? We’ve already gone to all this trouble to get this far, and it would be a sad thing to end our outing before we’ve even left the dock.”

“Why would we end our . . . ?” I stopped, understanding dawning on me. Holding back a choice word or two in deference to the two children, I put my hand in his and was surprised to find Owen taking my other in a firm grip.

The boat rocked gently, my equilibrium thrown completely off balance, my feet seeming suspended in air for a long, nauseating moment. Gibbes held on tightly until I sat down.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded, trying to look confident, and not speaking so he wouldn’t hear how out of my league I really was.

He sat at the rear of the boat, near the tiller, and paused a moment until we were all settled. After my heart had stopped its irregular thudding, I could hear the sounds of the marsh, the odd snapping and clicking noises from dozens of unseen creatures. I thought of Owen’s terrarium, and how fun it would be to capture a few specimens for us to look at, but knew it would be a while before I would gladly release my hands from the side of the boat to trawl the waters for unusual plants and insects.

“Maybe we’ll see a dolphin!” Owen shouted.

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