Wright or Wrong

*To listen to this short story, please click here.

Felicity looked out the window of the Uber car with a pensive expression on her face. It was difficult to make out the areas outside of the vehicle, thanks to the cracked and bubbled tinting that adorned the glass.

“This is Punta Rassa?” her tone belied a nervous hesitance.

“That's what the GPS says.”

She opened the door; a sharp creaking sound followed by a popping accompanied the motion. A sandaled foot touched the sand outside the car, followed by its twin. Pulling the leather strap of her weekend bag over her shoulder, she stood up, cautiously surveying the dock. There were derelict boats scattered around, pelicans and gulls calling from nests made where no captain would allow. Turning her head back to the driver, she asked, “Are you sure this is where I'm supposed to be?”

“Listen, lady, I don't even live here. I'm just trying to make some extra cash on my vacation. Beer ain't as cheap as it used to be.” His phone buzzed, the screen illuminating. “There's my next ride.” He threw the gear shift into drive and slammed his foot down onto the pedal, spinning his tires in the sand and gravel until he took off with a jerk that slammed the door shut, leaving Felicity alone.

She closed her eyes, steeling her nerves. The woosh of the waves in the inlet was followed by a rhythmic slapping as they made contact with the dock and the boats made the scene look a little bit like she might be walking into a slasher movie. Picking up her nerves, she walked down the dock, noting the sides of the boats as she went. They were spray-painted with phrases such as, “Ian sucks!” and “You loot, we shoot!” She realized these were damaged during the recent hurricane. Probably still awaiting their owners' insurance companies to finish their cases. As she made her way to the end of the dock, a sailboat came into view. This boat was beautifully kept, gleaming white in the sun, and a tanned man with his back to her adjusted the rigging.

“Excuse me, are you the captain of The Louise?”

Wind tugged at the white linen shirt that was buttoned only halfway up his chest, a neatly trimmed beard surrounding a friendly smile.

“I am, and you must be—Felicity...”

For long moments, the two stared at one another. Her bag nearly dropped from her grasp, sliding from her shoulder to swing in the crook of her elbow.

“Paul, what are you doing here?”

“I live here, sweetheart.”

It didn't even occur to her to be perturbed at the endearment. She stared in disbelief at her college sweetheart; the dropout that she'd deemed not serious enough for her future. His teasing grin had not changed, and where she might expect to see coldness, his eyes were tender in their gaze.

“You live on the boat that I booked for my vacation this week? Of course, you do.” A chuckle found its way through her throat, relaxing some of her tension.

“Only if your credit card on the booking reads 'Wright Way Industries'. Too bad I didn't think of that name for myself.” Paul matched her chuckle, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. He'd always done that when he was trying to make himself more comfortable in a situation. She laughed in response to his little joke. Their last names were both Wright, which had always been a joke among their friends that she wouldn't have to worry about whether or not to change her name if they got married because two Wrights wouldn't be wrong. That was until they did go wrong.

“It does, in fact,” She smiled and shrugged her shoulders, palms in the air.

“Well, welcome aboard The Louise,” He extended his hand with a genuine smile, his hazel eyes pulling her gaze in close. She reached up and felt a jolt of electricity the moment their fingers touched, making her draw a sharp intake of breath. Was this the same man that she had dismissed as aimless? He was still every ounce of charismatic, that was for certain. He inclined his chin in the direction of her weekend bag. “Where's the rest of your luggage?”

“This is it,” she patted the monogrammed canvas confidently. “I've learned to pack light over the last few years.”

A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, approval in his eyes.

“Alright, let's get going while the wind is picked up.”

He showed her the tiny cabin where she would be sleeping, and she put down her bag on the bunk before heading back up on deck to find him already steering out of the inlet and headed for open water. His back was to her as he maneuvered the vessel with ease. He looked so comfortable and confident—the Paul that she always remembered with sadness and regret. Stepping beside him, but careful to leave space between them, Felicity regarded him with awe.

“How long have you been doing this?”

“I bought The Louise when my mom died,” Ahh, yes, his mother's name had been Louise, and she had loved sailing; a skill she passed to her children. “After spending a few months living on the boat, I realized that I could use my home to make a living. So I started booking charter cruises.”

Felicity nodded with understanding. Looking around her, the bright blue waters were intoxicating. She sighed happily at the beauty she saw, relaxing all the tension she'd been carrying in her body for a long time. Paul's hand grasped hers, their fingers intertwining as he brought her hand to his lips for a tender kiss. More electricity. He slowly let their hands drop down to the side, murmuring into the wind, “I'm glad it was you.”

Feeling his fingers loosen, she tightened her grip reassuringly. She'd let him go once and wondered if this was fate giving her a second chance. “Me, too.”

Maybe she had been mistaken. Perhaps two Wrights wouldn't make a wrong after all.