Brothers of Paradise Series

“Spooking is fine,” Hayden says, “as long as it’s just a short thing. We all do it every now and then.”

“Not you and Lily.”

This time, he laughs. His son turns around to watch his dad, eyes looking to find what’s funny. When there’s no obvious reason, Jamie turns right back around and reaches for the hula hoop Emma is playing with.

“You think I haven’t? You think she hasn’t? You know us,” he says, and reaches for his beer again. “Hell, when she told me she was pregnant, I spooked bad enough for the both of us.”

That’s news to me. “You did?”

He nods, a brief dip of his chin. “Yes. I didn’t feel qualified to be a father. Now I know nobody does, of course, and it’s still the best thing ever. You write your own playbook. But I didn’t then.”

I smile, watching Emma. “No. Nobody knows what they’re doing. But it’s the best winging it you’ll ever do.”

“Exactly,” he says softly. “Just like in relationships. It’s all winging it, Jamie.”

The message is clear. But he says it differently than Lily, says it softer, says it layered. And I understand. I smile down at my lemonade, thinking that they’re both looking out for us, me and Parker.

“Guys,” Lily says. Her voice is back to normal now, her phone in her hand. “Have you heard from Parker today?”

I clear my throat. “He took the new boat out. Should be back soon, I think.”

Lily frowns. “Do you know which direction he headed in?”

“No, I didn’t ask.”

“North,” Hayden says. “That’s what he told me last night, anyway.”

She looks down at her phone and her frown deepens. “The storm that was supposed to pass us by has switched directions. It’s heading here instead.”

Hayden gets to his feet. “Try calling him.”

“I’ve done that,” Lily says. “He’s not picking up.”

Something cold wraps a hand around my throat. “I have his phone.”

Two pairs of eyes turn to mine. “You do?” Lily asks. “Why?”

“He forgot it at mine earlier today.”

Her green eyes lock on mine for a moment longer. “Well, I wish I could focus on that detail a bit more, but Hayden… what do we do?”

He’s on his own phone. “We’ll start by calling the yacht club and ask if he’s already back.”

But he’s not. The new wood-and-navy boat with the cream sails hasn’t returned to its spot next to the Frida. And they haven’t seen it for hours.

It’s fifteen minutes later when the rains hit.

It’s like the sky opened its maws and released weeks’ worth of moisture, cold drops assaulting the ground below. Hayden turns off the grill and I grab Emma’s sweater, forgotten on the patio chair.

“He would know about the storm, though,” I tell Hayden. My voice is low and hard. “Wouldn’t he?”Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

Hayden nods. “He’s religious about checking weather. But if he didn’t have his phone… and it was predicated to hit far north of here…” He shakes his head. “Things change fast at sea. Parker knows that too.”

I try breathing through my nerves. “What’s the latest prognosis on the storm? On wind conditions?”

The man next to me, who I never used to speak much to, who is Lily’s soul mate and as much Parker’s brother as his own, hesitates. Panic slides its icy grip around my spine. “I won’t lie,” Hayden says. “They’re not good.”

Somewhere during that dazed evening, I find my way to the couch, and pull Emma against me. Her eyes are on the cartoon Lily had put on for her and Jamie. On the mantel, the short hand ticks with steady movements. And still no news.

I barely register when the front door opens against the pouring rain. A gust of cold wind sweeps into the house, and then I hear Michael Marchand’s voice.

“What’s the latest?”

The family convenes in the dining room. I wrap my arm around Emma and fight against the fear in my chest. Not now, not when I’ve finally found him, not when I’ve finally created a life for myself that’s safe.

“Mom,” Emma whispers. “Is it the captain?”

I force a hard swallow. “Yes, sweetie. But he’s going to be all right.”

“He’s at sea?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Emma relaxes underneath my arm, her eyes returning to the TV. “He’s a good sailor.”

I close my eyes. Yes, he is. But storms don’t care.

Behind me, I hear Michael asks Hayden questions, sharing notes on wind conditions, waves, miles per hour.

“Good man,” Michael says at one point, slapping Hayden on the shoulder. “Why weren’t you out with him today?”

“I offered,” comes Hayden’s measured response, “but he wanted to take the new boat for a short spin by himself.”

Michael’s voice grows gruff. “Well. He’s the best sailor on the East Coast, if not the whole goddamn country. He knows what to do.”

When I turn, Lily has her arm around her mother, both looking down at her phone. “The coast guard,” Eloise says. “Why aren’t we calling them? Why aren’t they looking?”

“They won’t brave the storm,” Hayden says simply. “Not right now.”

Eloise looks at her husband with anger, but Michael nods, confirming it.

“So the only thing we can do right now is wait?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

“Does he have a signal? Why isn’t he answering his phone?” she demands, looking down at her own. Manicured fingers curl around the glass and steel. “He should pick up! He always picks up!”

“He doesn’t have his phone on him,” Lily says gently. She’s been a quiet presence throughout this, soothing, making tea, lighting candles, kissing the top of her son’s head over and over again. But the eyes that meet mine across the living room are strained. She loves all her brothers, the siblings close even when they’re far apart. But Parker is her closest in age, the one she fought over chores with, the brother she sees weekly.