Mack
Rebellion: organized resistance or opposition
to an authority
Mack sat on the jetty in the marina with her arms looped round her knees. Her bike was propped against a wall in the harbor.
She didn’t even know what she was doing here. All she knew was that she didn’t want to spend another lonely weekend in the house trapped with her family. She couldn’t handle her own emotions, let alone theirs. It was like being caught in a flash flood. She couldn’t get her head above the surface to breathe. Something else had happened, although she had no idea what. She’d returned home from school a few days before to find her grandmother, her mother and her aunt huddled around the kitchen table. She couldn’t remember ever seeing them huddled before. It was clear she’d interrupted something big. She hadn’t hung around waiting for someone to tell her because no one in her family was big on confessions. Instead she’d grabbed milk from the fridge and gone straight to her room.
For once her mother hadn’t followed her. She’d told herself she was glad about that, but the truth was that she felt lonelier than she ever had in her life before.
Kennedy had ignored her since the incident on the beach, and because the other kids were terrified of Kennedy, they ignored her, too.
It didn’t matter so much during class, but at lunchtime she sat on her own at one of the lunch tables in the farthest corners of the cafeteria, wishing she could wind back time.
It felt as if every part of her life had gone wrong at the same time.
School was a nightmare. Home was a nightmare. She had no friends. No one to talk to. Which was why she was here now, on a Saturday morning, sitting on a dock that smelled of salt water and fish.
She missed her dad. Ed. She should be thinking of him as Ed. She missed their Saturday morning bike rides, their visits to the museums and the way he always managed to calm her mother down.
Mack felt desperately sad, and had no idea what to do with all the feelings inside her. And as for school—she had reinvented herself so many times in an attempt to be popular that she no longer knew who she was.
She saw Scott before he saw her. He walked with a loose, easy stride as if he was on the deck of a ship. His arms were loaded with bags and sailing gear and he was aiming for the big black inflatable boat moored right by her. Captain trotted alongside him, tail wagging.
Scott stopped when he saw her, but Captain bounded across and greeted her like a long-lost friend.
Mack buried her hands and face in his warm fur, grateful that at least someone loved her.
As she glanced up at Scott, her heart thumped a little harder.
She probably shouldn’t have come. Just because he’d helped her a couple of times didn’t mean he wanted her in his life.
It was like asking for rejection.
Because she didn’t want to show how vulnerable she was feeling, she went with careless.
“Hi, Dad.” She used a don’t-care tone that would have earned her a sharp rebuke from her mother, but Scott Rhodes didn’t react. He never seemed to react the way other people did.
“You’re up early.”
“Despite popular belief, there is no such thing as a typical teenager. We’re all individual. Some of us are tall, some short, some love Taylor Swift, and some love rock and rap.” She scrambled to her feet. “I thought we could spend some quality father-daughter time together. Bonding is important, don’t you think?” Because she was scared and stressed, she resorted to verbal sparring and sarcasm, but Scott didn’t seem inclined to play that game. Instead he gave her a brief glance and then lowered the ropes and the bags he was carrying into the boat.
His lack of response left her feeling childish.
“Are you going out in that? Can I come?” Now she was definitely acting like a little kid, begging for attention.
“Have you ever been on a boat?”
The fact that he hadn’t told her to go away gave her hope.
“Do you count a pedal boat in Hyde Park? If not then no, but I’m a quick learner. What would you want me to do? I don’t know a whole lot about sailing in real life, only from books. If you take me on this boat it’s possible I could sink it. I read Moby-Dick.” She shifted awkwardly, aware that she was talking far more than he was. “Mom gave me your copy.”
“You read it?”
“Yes. Why so surprised? I hate most of the stuff kids my age are reading. Usually about teenagers who save the world, which doesn’t make sense to me. Most teenagers aren’t even allowed to go to the bathroom without telling a grown-up. We have to say where we’re going, when we’ll be back and what grade we got. It’s all rules, rules, rules. Who is going to give them responsibility for the world? That’s not happening any time soon. I can’t suspend disbelief enough to read that type of thing. But Moby-Dick was real. I mean the Essex sank, I know that. Grams told me about it.”
He rearranged everything inside the boat. “It’s not going to be like Moby-Dick.”
“Because there aren’t any whales around here. I know. It’s tragic. I don’t believe in killing anything. I’m a vegetarian, which annoys Grams because she makes these amazing potpies. She’s learned to do cheese and leek because of me. It’s pretty good.” She glanced at the boat and then at the waves. “I don’t mean to be offensive or question your skill or anything, but those are big waves out there. Not that I’m an expert, but I’ve read a ton of stuff and I can tell you that something more robust would be safer. As we’re on Martha’s Vineyard and everyone knows Jaws was filmed here, I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
“We have something more robust.”
“We do?” She was surprised by how much she liked the we in that sentence.
He gestured with his head and for the first time she noticed the yacht bobbing in the bay.
“That’s yours? That big white one? Then what’s this one for?”
“This is a tender. I use it to get from the yacht to the shore.”
It hadn’t even occurred to her to wonder how people got to the boats moored outside the harbor. “You go on the yacht most days?”
“Every day. I live on it. It’s my home.”
“Cool. If someone annoys you, you can sail into the sunset or throw them overboard. Can I come and live with you?” She saw his expression change and her stomach gave a lurch. “I’m kidding. I know I’d be as welcome as a shark in a seal colony. If you’d wanted me in your life, you would have stuck around sixteen years ago. Don’t feel bad about it. No one wants me around right now, so you’re not alone.” Across the dock she saw a tall, lean boy sling a bag into a boat and spring in after it. She recognized him as the boy who had pinned up the Coding Club notice. Saul something. No, Sam. That was it. Sam.
As she floundered for the name, the boy glanced up and saw her.
Mack felt her face burn. This was awkward.
But to her surprise he lifted his hand in a greeting and a smile spread across his face.
It was the first time since she’d arrived on the island that anyone had seemed genuinely pleased to see her.
She hesitated and then lifted her hand and returned his greeting.
Scott glanced over his shoulder toward the boy in the boat. “You know Sam Tanner?”
“He’s in my class. He runs the Coding Club after school. Not that we’ve spoken.”
“Perhaps you should. He’s a good kid.”
“He probably is, but the truth is that he isn’t one of the cool ones. Being friends with him would make me a target.” But that wave and smile had cheered her more than she would have thought was possible. Maybe life wasn’t so awful. “Even if I wanted to risk it, I don’t know enough about computers.”
Scott wrapped the last of the bags in plastic and tucked it under the seat. “I know a bit about computers. If there’s something you want to know, you can ask me.”
“You know how to code?”
“I’m not going to put a rocket into space but yes, I know enough.”
“And you’d help me?”
“Yes, although you’d probably find the Coding Club more fun.”
She was pretty sure she wouldn’t. She certainly wouldn’t find the fallout fun.
“How about the boat? Will you teach me to sail, too?”
He straightened and his ice-blue gaze fastened on her like a laser. “Does your mom know you’re here?”
“Not exactly. I didn’t have a destination in mind when I left the house. I needed space. My family drives me crazy. I mean, I love them obviously, but they do crazy things. They’re not big on talking about stuff, so there are lots of misunderstandings.”
“If you want to come on the boat, you need to tell your mom you’re here.”
“I don’t think that’s—”
“Call her,” he said, “or she’ll worry.”
She hadn’t expected him to be so protective of her mother. He hadn’t exactly stuck around, had he? But he clearly still had feelings.
Mack wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
But she knew she wanted to stay.
She pulled out her phone, even though she had no intention of calling her mom. “No signal.”
“I’m not taking you on the boat unless you tell your family where you are.”
If she called, her mom would probably stop her from going on the boat, but if she didn’t call, Scott wouldn’t take her out.
She waved her phone in the air and walked up the dock a little way. “Oh wait—success.” She held the phone to her ear and waited a moment. “Hi, Mom, I’m at the marina with Scott, so you don’t need to worry about me. See you later. Byeee.” She ended the “call” quickly, worried that Scott might take the phone from her and try to talk to her mother himself. That would have been awkward given she hadn’t actually called anyone. “Everything’s cool. So can I come sailing with you?” She saw him hesitate and the feeling of disappointment was like a blow to the chest. “You don’t want me. No one wants me right now.”
There was a gleam in his eyes. “Are you trying to manipulate me?”
“No. Just telling the truth. I don’t blame people really. I’m moody and horrid, but I honestly can’t help it. I’m trying not to be, but it’s hard. I don’t feel like myself anymore. It’s been tough.”
“Life generally is.”
She was surprised he didn’t give her more sympathy. “Maybe if I lived on the sea like you it would be easier.”
“Life doesn’t go away because you’re on a boat. It’s wetter and colder, that’s all.” He held out his hand to her and she stepped into the boat before he could change his mind and call her mother himself.
She clutched his hand as the boat swayed on the water. “We’re not going to sink, are we?”
“No. Wear this.” He handed her a life jacket.
“I don’t need—”
“Wear it.”
“Orange isn’t really my color—” Her voice tailed off as she caught his eye. “Right. Orange is good. Yay orange. Totally my favorite. I wish everything in my life was orange.” She put the life jacket on and he leaned forward to secure the straps.
At least he didn’t intend to let her drown. That was a start.
“Sit in the middle and don’t move around.”
“Aye aye, Cap’n.” She laughed as the dog jumped into the boat, wagging its tail. “Not you. The other captain.” She saluted and watched as Scott sprang onto the dock and did something with the ropes.
Someone shouted something to him and he raised a hand in acknowledgment and then they were motoring out through the harbor toward the sea.
The weather had been gray and murky all week but now, finally, the sun peeped through the clouds. The water sparkled as they bounced over the surface and Mack gasped as seawater showered her face.
She realized she was laughing for the first time in months, and she was still laughing when he brought the boat alongside the yacht.
“That was so cool. Can I steer next time?”
“No.” He killed the engine.
She waited for him to warn her to be careful climbing into the boat, but he said nothing, simply held the boat steady and waited while she clambered up the ladder and dropped down onto the deck. The wind blew her hair across her face and she felt a sudden lightness. The only sounds were the slap of the sea against the hull, the clink of the mast and the plaintive call of a seagull. The darkness that had engulfed her lifted. The ache in her chest had gone. Here on the boat she felt far away from everything. Grief. Her home. School. Herself.
For the first time in a long while she had a feeling that everything was going to be all right. Not right away, but maybe one day.
Grateful for the reprieve, she wiped her face with her palm and then twisted her soaked hair into a tail and secured it under her hat.
“Mack—” He called her name and she walked back to the side of the boat and took the packages he handed her.
“Where do you want me to put these?”
“In the main cabin.” He gestured for her to go below and she bounced down the steps into the cabin.
She handed the bags back to him and watched as he stowed the contents. “I’d rather live here than in a house. It’s fun.”
“It’s not much fun in winter.”
“Is that why you wanted to buy The Captain’s House? I can’t imagine why you’d want a place like that when you can have this. But you don’t have to talk about it,” she said quickly. “There’s nothing worse than people wanting you to talk about stuff you don’t want to talk about. I get that. It happens to me all the time right now. Mom wants me to talk and I know I’m supposed to say what she wants to hear, but I can’t do that so I’ve been spending too long in my room playing with electronic devices.”
He unzipped his jacket. “You seem to be talking plenty.”
“You’re easy to talk to. You listen.” She studied the navigational charts secured to the wall. “Have you sailed all over the world? I’d love to travel. I’d like to go to California because that’s where so many of the tech companies are. Have you been to California?”
“Yes.”
“It’s great that you can sail off like that. You don’t have any ties? No one? I mean, until your long-lost daughter showed up.” She tried to see his expression but he had his back to her.
“Do you like hot chocolate?”
“I prefer vodka.” Her flippant response earned her one of his steady looks and she sighed, wondering what it was about him that put the brakes on her need to be outrageous. “Is there anyone alive who doesn’t like hot chocolate? That would be great, thanks.” The spray from the short boat ride had penetrated her coat and she realized she was cold.
Scott opened a cupboard, pulled out a clean dry towel and threw it across to her. “Take your coat off. Dry your hair. I’ll fetch you a sweater.”
“I’m fine.”
“When you’re on board this boat, you’ll do as I say.” He disappeared through a door and emerged a moment later with a soft sweater that looked as if it had been washed a thousand times.
Grateful for the warmth, she slipped it on without argument. The sleeves fell past the ends of her fingers and she pushed them back and took the hot chocolate he handed her.
“Thanks.” She slid her hands round the mug for warmth. Hot chocolate. She remembered Ed making her hot chocolate when she was very young. The ache in her chest came back. “So this boat has sails, but also an engine? You know about engines?”
“I know enough.”
“I like physics. And I’m pretty good at it. Last year I wanted to do engineering, but now I’m not sure. I might like to be a computer scientist, but most of what I know is self-taught. I guess I don’t really know what I want to do. I’m supposed to have it figured out, but it’s hard to have it all figured out at sixteen. Did you?”
“I still don’t have it all figured out.”
She found that reassuring. She sipped her drink and discovered hot chocolate could be as delicious at sixteen as it was at six. The creamy warmth spread through her, heating her insides. “So far I’ve done most of the talking. Tell me something else about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Do you have any other relations? Cousins? Aunts?”
“No.”
“No one?” She felt a stab of shock. “I’m all you’ve got? That’s bad.”
A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. “I’ll let you know.”
“Now I feel a huge responsibility to be perfect. That’s a lot of pressure for one person.”
“I’ve yet to meet a perfect human.”
“In case you’re worried, don’t be. I don’t have expectations. So far when it comes to fathers I haven’t exactly hit the jackpot.”
“I’d say you hit the jackpot.” He took the steps back up to the deck and she finished her chocolate and followed him, curious.
Something about the way he moved around the boat made her think he was annoyed.
Probably with her. Annoying people was her specialty.
“You think you’re up for father of the year?”
“Not me. Ed.”
It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. “Ed?”
He lifted the lid on a locker and pulled out a rope. “Do you know how to coil a mooring line?”
“What? No, of course not.” The wind turned the surface of the water choppy and she braced her legs to help balance against the roll of the boat. “You think my da—I mean, Ed was a good father?”
“Forget it.”
“I don’t want to forget it. I want to know why you said that. You didn’t even know him.”
“How about knots? Can you tie a bowline? Figure eight? Reef knot?” He closed the locker with such force she jumped.
“I was born and raised in London. It’s not exactly a necessary life skill in a city. He lied, you know.”
“You’ve never lied?”
Mack turned pink. She’d lied a few minutes ago, back on the dock. But that was different. That was a small lie. “He and my mom basically lied my entire life.”
Scott didn’t respond to that. “You should learn. Knowing how to tie a secure knot might come in useful one day.”
Mack tried to work out when. Maybe she could tie a knot in Kennedy’s neck.
“Did you know Ed?”
His grip tightened on the rope. “No.”
“Then why did you say I’d hit the jackpot? And how would you have felt if you’d discovered the man you thought was your dad wasn’t really your dad?”
“I never knew my dad so I can’t answer that.”
“Oh.” She stared at him. “He died when you were young?”
“I don’t know anything about him. I was raised in foster care.”
Mack was mortified. Her big mouth again. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. It’s not your fault.”
“But I said the wrong thing. I hurt your feelings.”
“My feelings aren’t that easily hurt. And everyone says the wrong thing sometimes. It’s part of being human.”
Her feelings were easily hurt. Far too easily hurt. “I’m feeling weird right now. Ed’s gone and I’m never going to be able to ask him any of the things I want to know.”
“What do you want to know?”
Feeling the boat rock, Mack sat down on the locker. “I want to know why he didn’t tell me. Finding out that there’s no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny was bad enough, but this is so much worse, don’t you think?”
“I never believed in Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny.” He flicked her a glance. “Decisions aren’t always simple. Life isn’t always that easy to figure out.”
Well that was true.
Scott had a quiet way about him that made it easy. He didn’t tell her what she should be thinking or feeling, and he didn’t nag at her or make her feel stupid. “I want to know if Ed really loved me.”
“That’s an easy enough question to answer.”
“What do you mean?”
Scott tightened his hands on the rope. “Did he leave you? Did he walk out?”
“No. He had a heart attack.” And she couldn’t get it out of her head. Had he known he was going to die? Had he had pain? What was the last thing she’d said to him? She couldn’t even remember and she felt awful about that.
“He was by your side for sixteen years.” Scott placed the rope on her lap and dropped to his haunches next to her. “I’d say the signs are that he loved you a hell of a lot.”
She gripped the rope. “I wish I’d known I wasn’t his, that’s all. I would have been okay about them telling me when I was young.”
“You don’t know that. No one knows for sure how they’d react if circumstances were different.”
“You’re on my mom’s side.”
“I don’t take sides.” He took her hand and placed it on the rope. “This is a mooring line. You’re going to learn to coil it ready for stowage. Are you right-handed or left?”
“Right.”
“So make the coils with your right hand, hold in your left.” He showed her and then handed the rope back to her. “Keep the coils the same length.”
She tried it, but her hands were cold. “The rope keeps kinking up—”
“Twist your hand out as you make the coil. That will stop it happening. That’s good—” he watched as she coiled the whole rope “—now finish it off and we’ll stow it in the locker.”
She did as he said and handed it over, wondering why coiling a rope could feel like an achievement. She gobbled up crumbs of approval like a starving bird. “So does this make me your crew?” She saw the corners of his mouth flicker into a smile and felt a sudden high. “Can I ask you something?”
“If I say no, will it stop you asking?”
“Probably not. And we can both agree that you’ve had an easy time of parenting me so far.”
“If it’s a parent you want, you should talk to your mom.”
How could she explain that she couldn’t talk to her mom right now? “I’d rather talk to you.”
“I don’t know anything about kids.”
“I’m not a kid. I’m a teenager. We’re much trickier. And don’t bother looking for advice on the internet.”
“I take it the advice isn’t good?”
“It says things like, ‘Try to maintain a channel of communication.’” She used her best TV anchor voice. “‘Try to avoid confrontational language and talking in absolutes. Encourage dialogue.’”
“Sounds complicated.”
“You have no idea.” She took a deep breath. “Did you love my mom?”
He went so still she wished she hadn’t asked.
It was like opening up a box and showing someone something awful.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Forget I asked that. Thanks for the chocolate and the rope lesson.” She took the steps back down to the cabin, grabbed his mug and washed it up.
She was relieved when he followed her down. At least he wasn’t ignoring her.
“Thanks for bringing me on the boat and giving me my first sailing lesson.” What if Scott had loved her mom? What if this was difficult for him too? “Scott—”
“We should get back.” He left the cabin in two long strides and she stood for a moment, wishing yet again that she’d kept her mouth shut.
She hoped she hadn’t ruined what was turning out to be the best day she’d had in a long time.