Page 45… in a fiction series
It was a crisp, sunny day on the dock. Greg had prepared a fresh shrimp salad, seasoned with horseradish and a tasty coral dressing. Homemade basil tomato bisque was served on Haviland china. Fattening but delicious. He was a culinary genius and a wonderful host. How he keeps his priceless dishes from breaking in rough seas Miranda will never know. Everyone was being really nice to her, glad to see her up and about– even Luke with his big mouth. There had to be a catch…
Ron put down his fork and cleared his throat, the first to speak. “Miranda, we know you’ve been through a very tough time. We all feel just terrible about what happened. A robbery was the last thing any of us expected.”
“You’ve done such a great job out here on the dock this winter,” said Greg in a calming tone. “None of us thought you would make it, but you proved us wrong. You should be very proud for toughing out that storm. I left because I was seasick. I should have told you. But for now, we’re starting to worry about you.”
They ate for a while in silence.
“Now there are a couple of things, Miranda.” Luke was always very direct. “You need to quit moping around, stop drinking, get your *stuff* together. And… get a job! Yes, Miranda… a J-O-B job! Okay… so all your money was stolen and you have a raging hangover. But that’s over now. No one is going to bail you out. If you can build an aft superstructure like a pro, you can certainly go out and get a d&*$ job. It won’t kill you to get up early and go to work like the rest of us. Any questions?”
Ron cleared his throat, indicating that Luke’s turn to speak was over. “You’re a smart girl. And a hard worker. Go to the library, ask for Jo. She’ll help you get your resume in order.” Miranda never saw this coming– an intervention over biscotti and espresso.
“The unemployment office is at Byrne and Second Street in Petoskey. I know this isn’t your style, but it’s a good place to start,” said Greg.
“And as for our late nights up at Jack’s Steakhouse, those days are gone.” Luke slammed his little espresso cup on Greg’s linen placemat, spilling coffee that would leave a stain. You drink to d*&% much. You’ve got to start taking care of yourself or you’re not gonna make it.”
“We can’t do this for you Miranda, but you know we’re here. Would you like some tomato bisque to take back to your boat?” They all smiled, she was ravenous. “So you’ll at least give it a try?”Miranda nodded her head, not sure she meant it.
“For this command is a lamp, this teaching is a light, and correction and instruction are the way to life.” Proverbs 6:23 (NIV)
To be continued…
*This story is based on some true events, however, has been fictionalized and all persons appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
© 2012, Shoes for an Imaginary Life. All rights reserved.