Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

Rose

R estless energy buzzes under my skin, making it impossible to stay in bed despite having nothing planned. I had planned to sleep in. I’m on vacation, after all. I have nothing scheduled for today. No adventures, no activities, no Levi?—

My chest tightens at that last thought. Levi’s probably been up for hours already, out on one of the fishing boats. I roll over and grab my phone, checking the time. 7:47 AM. He’s definitely been up for hours. I wonder if he’s thinking about me too and missing me as much as I’m missing him. I close my eyes and picture him – strong hands working the nets, wind-tousled hair, entirely in his element out there on the water.

The water. My other thoughts drift to my mysterious savior. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m padding out onto the deck in my oversized sleep shirt and cotton shorts, my bare feet silent on the wooden planks. The morning air is chilly against my skin as I lean on the railing, studying the water. But that familiar sensation, that electric awareness I get when the kraken is near, doesn’t come. The harbor is quiet and peaceful – and ordinary.

Something catches my eye – a dark shape on the deck near my feet. I bend down to find a fossilized shark’s tooth, larger than any I’ve ever seen outside a museum. A smile spreads as I add it to my growing collection of mysterious gifts. Almost every day, I find some new treasure waiting for me – delicate pieces of sea glass worn smooth by the waves, shells in impossible spirals, and even more incredible finds. Yesterday, it was a ship’s brass bell encrusted with barnacles.

With a sigh, I head back inside to add my new prize to my collection and grab my sketchbook and pencils. Maybe I can capture some of the marina’s charm while I have some free time. Before returning to the deck, I grab the sandalwood incense I picked up in town. I light a stick and place it in the ceramic holder on a side table, letting the sweet, earthy aroma envelope me. Hopefully, the scent will help me focus. I settle back onto the deck with my art supplies, trying to capture how the morning light plays on the water, the gentle sway of the boats, and the weathered texture of the dock posts.

But nothing’s coming out right. The proportions feel off, and the shading doesn’t capture the light how I want it to. Frustrated, I flip to a fresh page and, without really thinking about it, begin to draw something else entirely. The kraken’s form flows from my pencil as if it’s been waiting there all along – those massive tentacles, the way they move through the water with such surprising grace, the intelligent gleam in those otherworldly eyes…

My phone’s sudden ring makes me jump, my pencil skittering across the page. Heather’s name flashes on the screen.

“Good morning, Heather. You’re up early,” I answer.

“Well, if it isn’t the vacation queen herself,” Heather says in a familiar teasing tone. Where’s your hot tour guide this morning?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. “He’s out working on a boat. Helping some local fishermen.”

“Oooh, strong and helpful. So, how are things going with him? Give me all the juicy details.”

I hesitate, protective of what Levi and I have shared. It feels too precious, too new to put into words. “Things are… good. Really good.”

“That good, huh?” I can hear her grin. “So… what happens when your vacation’s over?”

My stomach knots. “I don’t know. He mentioned he could never live away from the ocean…”

“Well, long-distance relationships can work, you know. If both people are willing to try.”

“Heather!” I protest, feeling my face grow warm. “It’s too soon to be talking about that kind of thing. We’ve only known each other for a week.”

“Sometimes a week is all it takes to know something’s special,” she says, suddenly serious. “Don’t dismiss it just because the timing isn’t perfect.”

“I don’t even know how he feels,” I admit, voicing the worry at the back of my mind that I’ve been ignoring. “We haven’t talked about… after. What if this is just a vacation fling to him? What if he does this with all the tourists who come through?”

“Didn’t you say you’re his first tourist?” Heather points out. “His first guided tour ever? Stop borrowing trouble, Rose. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.”

Before I can argue further, my stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud growl. Heather laughs. “And that’s my cue. Go feed yourself – you forgot breakfast again, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” I admit sheepishly.

“Classic Rose. Go eat something. And stop overthinking everything!”

I stare at the meager groceries inside my fridge after hanging up, but nothing appeals. Instead of forcing myself to cook, I throw on some real clothes, grab my keys, and head out to explore the town.

The chrome trim of a vintage diner catches my eye – how have I never noticed this place before? Inside, it’s exactly what you’d expect: worn vinyl booths, chrome-edged stools lined up at the counter, and the comforting aroma of coffee and grilled onions hanging in the air.

The BLT and fries I order arrive quickly, and while I take my first bite, my attention is drawn to a striking woman sitting in a booth not far from mine. She’s probably in her mid-thirties, with long black hair and the most incredible green eyes I’ve ever seen. But what really catches my attention is what’s in front of her – a large bowl filled with nothing but eggs. Hard-boiled eggs, I realize, as I watch her pick one up.

My jaw drops as she pops a whole egg into her mouth, barely chewing before swallowing it. Without missing a beat, she reaches for another one, repeating the process as if eating popcorn at a movie theater. I try not to stare, but I can’t help myself – I’ve never seen anyone eat eggs like that. A giggle escapes me as I imagine the terrible gas she will have later. The poor woman’s family won’t be able to be in the same room as her.

I’m so distracted by this peculiar sight that I nearly knock over my soda when someone slides into the booth across from me. I look up to find Koko, looking somehow both ethereal and entirely at home in the dated diner.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she says, her voice carrying that musical quality I remember. “I just wanted to check in and see how you’re enjoying the houseboat and the vacation package. I hope Levi’s been treating you right.”

Something in her eyes suggests she’s probing for more than just a review of the accommodations. After that sunset sail and how I kissed Levi right in front of Captain Orin, she could be fishing for gossip – but no, Koko doesn’t strike me as someone who’d care about tourist romance stories.

Something shifts, and suddenly I feel like I’m seeing her with new eyes. Her features have an agelessness, and something in her bearing reminds me of Martha from the oyster farm – that same sense of being anchored to this place, as if she’s grown from its very soil.

“Everything’s been wonderful,” I say carefully. “Better than I could have imagined.”

Koko’s smile deepens, knowing and mysterious. “Lublin Harbor has a way of giving people exactly what they need, even if it’s not what they thought they were looking for.”

Her words stir something in my chest – that same feeling I get when I’m near the kraken, that sense of something larger than myself, something ancient and powerful just beneath the surface of the ordinary world. I think about Levi, about the kraken, about all the wonderful things I’ve experienced since I arrived here.

“Yes,” I agree softly. “I’m discovering that.”

Koko flags down a server and orders a cup of tea. I notice how the waitress straightens up as she approaches, treating Koko with a deference that seems out of place in the casual diner setting. There’s something different about the mayor, something that commands respect without demanding it. When I first arrived, I found it odd that a bakery owner was the town mayor, but I understand now. Koko commands respect without even trying.

“The storms can be fierce here,” Koko says after the waitress leaves, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. “Especially the sudden storms that sweep in during summer. There was a terrible one just the other day – I hope it didn’t affect you. The wind and hail destroyed several canvas umbrellas over my bakery’s outdoor tables.”

My hand unconsciously moves to where I’d bumped my head, but I catch myself and make it look like I’m just tucking some hair behind my ear. “Oh, I took cover during the storm and was perfectly safe,” I say, trying to sound casual. “Though I was surprised by how it seemed to come out of nowhere.”

“Ah yes, that one was… unusual,” Koko says. “Normally, we have more warning. If you ever notice the sky darkening quickly, make sure you seek shelter right away. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to our guests.”

“I will,” I reply. “Although I have felt very safe and welcomed here since I arrived.”

“That’s what we strive for,” Koko says, accepting her tea from the returning waitress. “Lublin Harbor prides itself on being welcoming to everyone… to all kinds of people.” Something in the way she emphasizes ‘all kinds’ makes me think she’s talking about the town’s acceptance of anyone who might be considered different. Given the array of unique characters I’ve met – from gruff but warm Martha at the oyster farm to the eclectic mix of locals at the marina – I believe her. I’ve also noticed pride flags proudly displayed in several shops’ windows. However, my mind drifts to my kraken, and I wonder if that acceptance extends beyond just the human residents of this peculiar town. “This town has a way of watching over those who find their way here,” Koko adds, and I find myself nodding.

“You’re an artist,” Koko says, not really a question. When I look at her in surprise, she gestures to my hands. “You have smudges on your fingers.”

I glance down at my hands, remembering my morning’s attempts at capturing the harbor. “Yes, though I wasn’t very successful today. Everything I tried to draw came out wrong. Except…” I trail off, thinking of the kraken sketch that had flowed so easily from my pencil. Something about Koko’s presence is so warm and welcoming that I almost forget myself, the words about my mysterious savior right on the tip of my tongue. But then I catch myself – this isn’t my secret to tell. No matter how safe Koko makes me feel and how welcoming she says her town is, the kraken trusted me with something extraordinary, and I won’t betray that trust.

“Except?” Koko prompts, her eyes twinkling as if she can see the internal struggle playing across my face.

“Just… something else I was working on,” I finish lamely.

“Some things demand to be captured on paper,” she replies. “They speak to our souls in ways that can only be expressed through art.” She takes a sip of her tea. “You should stop by the bakery again before you leave town. You’ve got to try the rogaliki while you’re here. They’re little crescent cookies filled with jam.”

“I will. Thank you,” I say, pushing aside my now-empty plate.

“And Rose?” She stands smoothly, placing a few dollars on the table for her tea. “Sometimes the things we think are impossible are just waiting for us to be ready to accept them.”

With that cryptic statement, she glides out of the diner, leaving me with more questions than answers. What a strange woman. I stare after her for a long moment, then gather my things to go.

As I step out into the afternoon sun, I spot Conall – the big man who’d manned the grill at the clam bake – in what appears to be a heated discussion with a woman across the street. She looks to be in her forties, her light brown hair flowing loose around her shoulders, dressed in a flowing skirt and jangling bangles that suit the town’s bohemian vibe. Conall emphatically slashes his hand through the air and turns away from her, stomping in my direction. There’s a snarl on his face, and for a moment, something about his features looks strange – maybe it’s the way the shadows fall – but his face seems sharper, more angular, and almost predatory. I blink in surprise, and when I look again, his face is normal, though still twisted with irritation.

I rub my eyes, wondering if the morning spent hunched over my sketchbook is making me see things. Heather’s voice echoes in my head, nagging me about eye strain, proper lighting, and the importance of taking breaks. Maybe she has a point – I’m starting to doubt my eyes.

Children’s laughter draws my attention to the park across the street. A massive white dog bounds through the grass, wings attached to its harness fluttering with each leap. At first glance, it looks like an all-white husky, but it’s nearly the size of an Irish Wolfhound – I’ve never seen a husky even close to that big. The huge creature is playing a game of tag with the kids; it dances and weaves through the children’s grasping hands as they shriek with delight and give chase. Each time they think they’ve caught it, it spins away with an agility that seems unbelievable for its size, earning delighted shrieks from its pursuers.

I shake my head at my fanciful imagination as I walk to my car. Lublin Harbor is a very strange town, but I suppose most small towns are, each with their own peculiar charm.

Glancing at my phone, I see it’s already mid-afternoon. Levi will be done with the fishing boats soon.

My heart lifts at the thought of seeing him, but Koko’s parting words echo in my mind. Impossible things. It makes me think of the kraken. As I walk back to my car, I wonder if I have time to take the kayak out and look for my kraken before Levi returns.

The answer to that question comes up as I’m unlocking my car door. My phone buzzes with a text from him: “Dinner later?”

I smile at my phone, typing back a quick “Yes!”

His response comes quickly: “Can’t wait. Pick you up at 7?”

I give a thumbs up, then toss my phone onto the passenger seat. The rest of the afternoon stretches before me, empty hours until I see him again. Maybe I’ll work on that kraken drawing some more.

Looking out at the harbor, at this place that increasingly feels less like a vacation spot and more like something out of a fairy tale, I wonder what other impossible things might be waiting for me to be ready to accept them.

The thought should frighten me. Instead, I feel a thrill of anticipation. After all, I’ve already been saved by a kraken and fallen for a man who seems to belong to the sea itself. How much more impossible could things get?

As if in answer, a flash of movement in the water catches my eye, gone too quickly to identify. I don’t get that familiar electric feeling, but it makes me think of my kraken all the same. I smile, deciding to skip working on my drawing.