We had a night off ahead of us, another fat tip in our pockets, and no guests for the next eighteen hours. I had just enough time to unwind before the next wave of stress hit.
But first, I had a call to make.
After an afternoon of deep cleaning and turning the boat for our next guests, I slipped away to my cabin, pulling the door shut behind me. Gisella was still on deck, finishing up her duties before she’d start getting ready for our night out and it would be a tornado of hair spray and flying clothes in here. She and I had found our own little truce of sorts, even joking with one another and talking a bit at night before we’d pass out.
She wasn’t so bad, and maybe I hated that most of all.
I did wish she was cleaner, though. I was just as bad as she was at destroying this little cabin when we were getting ready to go out, but I’d tidy my space back up in the end. She, on the otherhand, seemed to be testing my patience with how much makeup she’d smear on the bathroom counter, mirror, and towels before I’d break down and clean it all up.
The crew quarters were unusually still — no clinking dishes from the galley, no banter from the mess. Just silence. The kind that left too much room for thinking.
I sat on the edge of my bunk, phone in hand, thumb hovering over the screen. I didn’t even have to search for his name — Dad was pinned at the top of my contacts. It had been since I got a phone. He was reliable, steady, the person I would call first when something went wrong or when I had something to celebrate.
My leg bounced as I stared at the phone, chewing the inside of my cheek. I could already hear his voice in my head — clipped, calm, faintly amused, like he was always a step ahead and I was just trying to keep up.
Calling my father shouldn’t have felt like such an ordeal, but it did. Because it was never simply checking in. It was always a test. I felt as if I needed to have my report card ready, posture straight, all emotions tucked neatly away.
I took a deep breath.
And then I hit call and flopped back onto the bunk, staring at the ceiling. It rang twice, and then that voice pierced through my anxiety.
“There’s my girl.”
I swallowed, spine snapping straight like a soldier called to attention. That greeting — warm and proud — always hit like a paradox. It wrapped around me like a soft blanket and sank like a stone in my stomach all at once.
“Hey, Dad.”
“It’s been more than a month since I’ve heard from you.”
“You know, the phone works both ways.”
“Well, I never know with your… job if you’ll be able to answer. I just assume you’ll call me when you can.”
I rolled my eyes. Just one of many of my father’s assumptions.
“And here you are!” he continued. I could almost see his bright grin, the way it took up his whole face like a politician’s smile. “How are you?Whereare you? Oh, your mother is here, too.”
“Hello, darling,” Mom’s soft voice called from the background. “So good to hear from you. I’ve been hoping I’d see you post an update on Facebook but haven’t seen anything.”
I chuckled. “No offense, Mom, but I only post on Facebook because you and Aunt Zoe beg me to. You need to download Instagram. Also, I can’t post anything until the show airs, remember?”
There was a beat of silence, like they’d both completely forgotten about the show.
Or maybe they’d hoped it wasn’t real.
“Oh, that’s right,” Dad said with that tone I was so used to hearing over the years. It was the same one he used when he and Mom hosted a party and he got caught in a conversation he wasn’t particularly interested in, or one he didn’t agree with. “So, you went through with that, did you?”
“I told you I was.” I tried not to grit those words through my annoyance that they were pretending like this was surprising news. “And it’s going great, which is why I wanted to call. We just wrapped up the fifth charter, got four more to go. Captain Gary has told me a few times now how proud he is of me.” I sat a bit straighter at that, my smile genuine. “He says he knew I’d be a great chief stew and that I’m proving him right.”
There was another long pause. I wondered if my parents were exchanging that look they thought was so hard to read when I knew exactly what it said even if no words left their mouths.
“Well, it doesn’t surprise me that you’re good at making cocktails and doing laundry, Ember,” my father clipped. “You’ve been great at everything you’ve put your mind to all your life. I just wish you put your mind to something a little more respectable.”
Ice pricked my veins just as there was a knock on my cabin door. It flew open before I could say a word, and Eli swung in with one hand on the doorframe and a wide grin on his face. “Em, what are you—” He clapped a hand over his mouth when he saw me on the phone, mouthing asorry. But instead of backing out of the room, he took one look at my face and frowned, easing inside and plopping down on the bed next to me.
“It is respectable, Dad. It’s hard work. You know how many years I’ve hustled to earn this title.”
“Andyouknow there is a position waiting for you here with me that would pay four times the amount you’re making there — if not more.”