Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Rose

T he sun sets as Levi and I make our way down the beach. The air is filled with laughter, clinking bottles, and the crackle of bonfires. The scent of woodsmoke mingles with the salty sea air, and I take deep, soul-cleansing breaths. The tang of salt and the steady rhythm of the waves work their magic, leaving me feeling refreshed despite our long day at sea.

“Where should we take the fish?” I ask Levi, raising my voice slightly to be heard over the festive atmosphere.

He scans the beach and then nods towards a massive grill near the center of the gathering. “Over there,” he says. “See that big guy manning the grill? That’s where we need to go.”

As we approach, I can’t help but stare at the man Levi pointed out. ‘Big’ is an understatement – he’s a veritable giant, towering over the grill with arms as thick as tree trunks. His wild, bushy beard and unruly mane of hair give him the appearance of a lumberjack or perhaps even a bear that’s wandered out of the woods and decided to try its paw at grilling.

Next to the massive grill stands a long prep table, already laden with various marinades and seasonings and an assortment of fresh seafood, meats, and vegetables waiting to be grilled.

“Hey, Conall!” Levi calls out as we approach. “We’ve brought some fresh catch for the grill.”

Conall turns to us, his face splitting into a wide grin. “Well, well! If it isn’t our fledgling tour guide! And who is this?” His voice is a deep rumble that seems to vibrate in my chest. As we approach, I notice flecks of grey at his temples, making him appear older than I’d initially thought.

“I’m Rose. Levi took me fishing today,” I say, holding out my hand to Conall. He engulfs my hand in his, and I’m struck by how small mine feels in comparison, completely dwarfed by his large, calloused palm.

“Let’s see what you’ve got there,” he says, his eyes twinkling with interest as he releases my hand, nodding towards the cooler.

We set the cooler on the prep table, and Levi opens it to reveal our Atlantic cod. A collective “Ooh!” rises from the small crowd that’s gathered around us, drawn by the prospect of seeing the day’s catch.

Conall lets out a low whistle of appreciation. “Now that’s a beauty,” he says, reaching in to lift the fish. “You caught this?”

I nod, feeling a flush of pride. “Although I had a lot of help from Levi.”

“Don’t be modest, Rose,” Levi interjects, beaming. “She reeled this one in all by herself. You should have seen her – she’s a natural.”

A chorus of impressed murmurs ripples through the onlookers. Someone in the back calls out, “Looks like Levi’s lost his title as king of the sea!”

Laughter erupts, and though Levi joins in, I catch the subtle shift in his posture – shoulders tensing, smile tightening at the corners. Being the center of attention clearly makes him uncomfortable, though he’s trying his best to play along. “I think I can live with that,” he says with a wink that seems calculated to redirect everyone’s focus elsewhere. Even knowing it’s just deflection, my heart still does a traitorous little flip in my chest. He’s so adorably awkward.

Conall nods approvingly. “Well, Rose, you should be proud. This’ll feed quite a few hungry mouths tonight.”

Despite his intimidating size, something about his sparkling eyes and how he’s laughing with the people around him puts me at ease. I conclude that with a bit of grooming, he’d be quite handsome in a rugged, mountain man way.

Levi steps forward, rubbing his hands together. “Need any help with the grilling, Conall? I’m pretty handy with the tongs.”

Conall’s posture shifts ever so slightly, using his massive frame to block Levi from the grill. “Thanks, but I’ve got it under control,” he says, his tone friendly but firm, clicking the tongs in his other hand in a proprietary way. “Why don’t you two go enjoy the party? I’ll shout when the food’s ready.”

I can’t help but chuckle at Levi’s slightly crestfallen expression. “Come on,” I say, tugging gently at his arm. “Let the man work his magic. My dad’s the same way about the grill – it’s like his personal kingdom.”

Levi laughs, allowing me to lead him away.

We wander over to one of the bonfires, where a group of people are gathered, chatting and laughing. A woman with long, silver hair notices us and waves us over.

“You must be Rose.” Her voice is warm and rich with what sounds like a Russian accent. “Koko mentioned you’d be here tonight. I’m Yelena, and that’s my husband Ivan over there.” She gestures toward a tall, broad-shouldered man talking animatedly with a small group nearby. As if sensing her attention, Ivan glances over, his eyes crinkling with a smile as he waves. Yelena waves back, and he responds by blowing her a kiss before returning to his conversation. She watches him for a moment, lost in a private thought, then shakes herself and bends to open a cooler at her feet. “Want a beer?”

“Thank you,” I say, accepting the cold can gratefully. Levi also takes one, and we settle onto driftwood logs arranged around the fire. The warmth of the flames and the beer combine to create a cozy atmosphere, and I find myself relaxing into the evening.

As I’m about to take another sip of my beer, I notice a couple approaching our group. They walk with easy intimacy, the woman’s arm wrapped around the man’s waist and his arm draped casually over her shoulders. The woman has wavy brown hair and a warm smile, and she waves at Levi with her free hand as they draw near. The man beside her is strikingly handsome – tall and athletic, with a deep olive complexion. His dark hair falls in subtle waves, framing wide-set eyes so dark they seem to absorb the firelight.

“Lily! Rav!” Levi calls out, standing to greet them. “I’m glad you could make it.” I’m struck by how his whole demeanor changes – the slight tension he’s carried all evening seems to melt away. Unlike his polite but reserved interactions with everyone else he’s introduced me to tonight, there’s an easy familiarity in how he greets them, as if these two are among the few people he truly lets his guard down around.

“Rose, these are good friends of mine,” Levi says, turning to me. “Lily and Rav.” There’s something almost protective in how he says it like he’s sharing something precious. I notice how he emphasizes “good” – not just friends, but good friends – and I realize that for Levi, this distinction matters. I assume he’s the type who prefers a small circle of close friends to a wide network of casual acquaintances.

Lily embraces Levi warmly. “We wouldn’t miss it,” she says, her voice melodious and kind. Beside her, Rav maintains a quiet presence, his large dark eyes seeming to take in everything at once. When his gaze falls on me, I feel a strange sensation, as if I’m being studied. It’s not unfriendly, exactly, but there’s an intensity to it that is slightly unnerving. He offers a polite nod but remains silent.

Levi quickly continues, “Lily, Rav, this is Rose. She’s a tourist, and I’ve been showing her around the area.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Rose,” Lily says, her smile genuine and welcoming. “How are you enjoying our little slice of the Atlantic?”

“It’s been wonderful,” I reply enthusiastically. “I’ve always wanted to experience the charm of coastal New England, and it’s living up to all my expectations.”

Lily nods, her eyes twinkling. “It’s beautiful. I love living near the ocean.”

“I live in the desert, so I’m trying to get in every water activity I can. We went kayaking yesterday,” I say. “It was amazing. Levi’s been a great guide, showing me all the must-do activities.”

“That’s great to hear,” Lily responds. “Rav here is still getting used to coastal life himself.”

Rav nods politely but doesn’t say anything.

As Lily and Rav settle around the fire with us, I am drawn into easy conversation with Lily. She’s warm and engaging, asking about my art and my impressions of Lublin Harbor. I take to her immediately, feeling like I’ve known her for years rather than minutes.

“So, Rose,” Lily says, her eyes twinkling with interest, “what exciting activity do you have planned for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow’s a free day for me,” I reply, feeling a little thrill at the prospect of unscheduled time. “I’m considering exploring the town a bit, maybe doing some shopping. I’d love to pick up some souvenirs while I’m here.”

Lily’s face lights up. “Oh, that sounds lovely! You absolutely must check out Linen & Lore. It’s this amazing shop on Second Street.”

“Linen & Lore?” I repeat, intrigued by the name.

Lily nods enthusiastically. “Lublin Harbor has its roots in Slavic countries. Many of this place’s early settlers came from Poland and Russia. Linen & Lore specializes in traditional Slavic textiles. They have the most beautiful hand-made lace, clothes, and even some traditional costumes.”

That might explain the Tolstoy impersonators I’d seen at the restaurant the night before.

“That sounds fascinating,” I say, imagining the colorful fabrics and intricate designs.

“It really is,” Lily continues. “Handweaving and embroidery are still a big part of Lublin Harbor’s industry. Many of the items in the shop are made right here in town. It’s a great way to take home a piece of our heritage.”

“I’ll check it out,” I say, making a mental note. “Any other recommendations?”

“Yes, if you’re into new-age stuff, there’s this quaint little store on Main Street called the Malachite Maid,” Lily continues, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “They have all kinds of crystals, healing stones, tarot decks, and even some handmade incense. It’s got this mystical vibe…”

I get even more excited about tomorrow’s plans as Lily shares her insider knowledge. It’ll be nice to have a day to wander and soak in the local atmosphere, especially with these great suggestions.

Lily’s enthusiasm for the town is infectious, and I find myself curious about her connection to this place. “You seem to know so much about Lublin Harbor,” I say. “Were you born here?”

Lily laughs, the sound musical against the crackling fire. “Would you believe I only meant to stop here for lunch? I was just passing through on my way to move in with my aunt.”

“Really?” I lean in, intrigued.

She nods, her eyes taking on a dreamy quality. “I had everything I owned packed in my car – fresh off a breakup and ready for a new start. I had never planned to stay.” She pauses, a soft smile playing on her lips. “But once I got here, I fell in love.”

“With the town?” I ask, though I suspect that there’s more to the story.

“With the town,” Lily agrees, “and with one of its residents.”

As she says this, her gaze drifts to Rav. He must sense her looking because he turns to meet her eyes. The change in his expression is immediate and profound. The intensity I noticed earlier softens, replaced by a look of such adoration it pierces straight through me.

Lily reaches out and takes Rav’s hand, her thumb gently caressing his knuckles. “And I never left,” she says softly, her eyes still locked with her husband’s.

The moment feels almost too intimate to witness, and I look away, my chest aching with an emotion I can’t quite name. When I glance back, Lily is facing me again, but her hand remains entwined with Rav’s.

“So,” she continues, her voice warm, “I might not have been born here, but Lublin Harbor has become my adopted home. I love this place.”

I nod, understanding completely. Though I’ve only been here a short time, I’m beginning to feel the town’s magnetic pull myself.

While Lily and I chat, Rav maintains an attentive silence, offering occasional nods or brief comments. There’s something about his demeanor – a kind of contained energy – that I can’t quite read. Yet I notice how his eyes soften when he looks at Lily, the way he quietly refills her drink or drapes his jacket over her shoulders when the breeze picks up. His devotion is evident in these small gestures, and I find myself relaxing. Perhaps he’s simply reserved with strangers.

That thought reminds me of Levi and how he sometimes struggles with casual conversation, especially when it turns personal. I glance over at him, catching his eye. He gives me a small smile, and I feel a warmth that has nothing to do with the bonfire.

The storytelling begins as the night deepens and more beers are passed around. Tales of storms weathered, legendary fish caught (and mostly lost), and local legends fill the air. I am captivated, especially when Yelena begins a story she claims is from her homeland.

“In the old country,” she begins, her voice taking on a rhythmic cadence, “there was once a kind-hearted girl named Milena who volunteered to face a dragon terrorizing her village…”

Armed only with her courage and kindness, Milena approaches the fearsome dragon. Instead of fighting, she shows empathy and listens to the creature’s woes.

“And so,” Yelena continues, her eyes glimmering in the firelight, “Milena discovered that the dragon was a cursed prince, trapped in a monstrous form by an evil sorcerer. Her compassion and pure heart began to break the spell.”

The group leans in, captivated by the turn of events. The storyteller’s voice grows softer and more intimate.

“Milena spent days talking with the dragon, sharing her food, and showing him kindness. Slowly, the scales began to fall away, revealing the prince underneath. Her unwavering compassion finally broke the curse completely.”

“And thus,” Yelena continues, her voice warm with emotion, “as the last of the dragon’s scales fell away, revealing the handsome prince beneath, something magical happened. The prince, overwhelmed by Milena’s kindness and bravery, realized he had fallen deeply in love with her during their time together.”

Yelena’s eyes twinkle in the firelight as she leans in, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “And Milena, who had seen the gentle heart beneath the fearsome exterior, found that she too had fallen in love.”

“Their wedding was a joyous affair,” she says, her voice rising again, “attended by both the villagers and magical creatures from the forest. The once-feared dragon’s lair became their castle, symbolizing how love and compassion transformed even the most terrifying places.”

“And so,” Yelena concludes with a flourish, “Milena and her prince lived happily ever after, ruling their land with kindness and wisdom. They say that even now, in times of trouble, couples in love can call upon the spirit of Milena and her dragon prince for courage and compassion in the face of adversity. True love conquers all.”

As the story ends, a collective “aww” ripples through the group. The dreamy, wistful expressions on everyone’s faces tell me I’m not the only one touched by the story’s unexpected sweetness.

“A beautiful story,” a familiar voice says from behind me, making me jump slightly. I turn to see Koko standing there with a thoughtful expression. I hadn’t even noticed her joining our group. “But true love isn’t always enough, is it?”

There’s a murmur of agreement from some of the group’s older members.

Koko continues, her gaze distant. “Real love, the kind that lasts, takes work. It’s not just about grand gestures and sacrifices. It’s about the everyday choices, the small kindnesses, the willingness to grow and change together.”

Her words strike a chord within me, and I find myself nodding along. I think of my past relationships, how some burned bright and fast while others fizzled out slowly. I wonder, not for the first time, what it would be like to find a love that could weather all storms.

Suddenly, a low rumble of thunder breaks the contemplative silence that had fallen over the group. I look up, surprised – the sky had been clear all day. Koko’s reaction, however, is even more startling.

She glares up at the sky, her expression annoyed and defiant. “I’m still not talking to you,” she mutters, loud enough for those nearby to hear.

I blink, taken aback by the odd statement. Is she a little drunk? Or just quirky? Everyone looks uncomfortable, so I bite my lip and stay quiet.

Before I can dwell on it too much, a shout goes up from the direction of the grill. “Food’s ready!” Conall’s booming voice carries across the beach.

There’s a general scramble as people get up and approach the mouth-watering aroma of grilled seafood and vegetables. Levi and I join the line, our plates soon piled high with succulent grilled fish (including some of our cod), shrimp skewers, corn on the cob, and crisp salad.

We find a spot on the sand to sit and eat, close enough to the bonfire to stay warm as the night air grows cooler.

As we eat, I watch the party ebb and flow around us. Children chase each other across the sand, their laughter carried on the sea breeze. Couples sway to the music playing from someone’s portable speaker. A group of older men are engaged in what looks like a heated but friendly debate, their hands gesticulating wildly as they talk.

“This is amazing,” I say to Levi between bites. “I’ve never experienced anything quite like it.”

He smiles with a touch of pride in his eyes. “Lublin Harbor might be small, but we know how to throw a party. Wait until you try the blueberry pie later. And there will be s’mores for the kids.”

“S’mores aren’t just for kids,” I complain with a grin.

As if on cue, Conall’s voice booms out again. “Who’s ready for dessert?”

The crowd cheers, and soon, the air is filled with the sweet, burnt smell of toasting marshmallows. Levi and I join in, laughing as we try to achieve the perfect golden-brown crust without setting our marshmallows on fire.

As the night deepens, I sink into an easy contentment that surprises me. The fire casts dancing shadows across familiar faces that weren’t familiar just hours ago, while the steady rhythm of waves against the shore creates a gentle backdrop to the laughter and conversation. Maybe it’s how everyone has welcomed me without hesitation or how the salt air and wood smoke have wound their way into my clothes and hair, but I feel a sense of belonging I hadn’t expected to find so far from home. I dig my toes into the cool sand, perched on my driftwood log beneath the starlit sky, and marvel at how a single evening can transform a place from somewhere you’re just visiting into somewhere that feels like it might break your heart to leave.

I watch Levi chat with Rav, his eyes crinkling with laughter at some shared joke. He catches me looking and flashes a smile that makes my heart skip a beat. For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to stay here, to become a part of this community, and to explore whatever this thing is between Levi and me. Because I don’t think I’m the only one feeling an attraction.

But then reality intrudes. This is only a brief interlude – a working vacation before returning to my life in Santa Fe, where my career and apartment await me. This magical evening is just that – magical but temporary.

Still, as I gaze out at the moonlit waves, listening to the murmur of conversation and the crackle of the fire, I can’t help but feel that something has shifted within me. Whatever happens, I know that Lublin Harbor and its people have left an indelible mark on my heart.

The party begins to wind down as the night grows late. Families with young children say their goodbyes, followed by the older folks. Soon, only a small group remains around the dying embers of the bonfire.

Levi leans in close, his voice low. “Ready to head back? I can walk you to your houseboat if you’d like.”

I nod, suddenly aware of how tired I am after our long day. We say our goodbyes, thanking Conall for the fantastic food and Lily for her conversation and hospitality.

As we walk along the moonlit beach towards the marina, I find myself wishing the night didn’t have to end. But even as that thought crosses my mind, I stifle a yawn.

Levi chuckles. “Looks like someone’s ready for bed.”

I smile sheepishly. “I guess a day of fishing and feasting takes it out of you.”

We reach my houseboat all too soon. I turn to Levi, suddenly unsure of what to say. “Thank you for today,” I finally manage. “For everything.”

He smiles, and my heart stutters as he sways almost imperceptibly forward. The space between us feels electric. His eyes drop to my lips for the briefest moment – so quick I might have imagined it – and my thoughts scatter like startled birds, my fingers curling helplessly at my sides. But then he takes a small step back, breaking whatever spell had begun to weave around us, and the cool evening air rushes into the space he leaves behind.

“It was my pleasure, Rose. Sleep well.” His voice is soft, a touch lower than usual, and something in his tone makes my skin prickle with awareness.

I watch him walk away, tracking the strong line of his shoulders until he disappears into the shadows between the houseboats. My chest feels tight, and I feel a peculiar mix of disappointment and relief like a rubber band stretched and suddenly released.

As I get ready for bed, my mind replays moments from the day – the thrill of catching the fish, the warmth of the bonfire, the stories and laughter shared with new friends. But now, each memory seems to circle back to Levi: the proud grin he gave me when I reeled in my catch, how the firelight played across his features as he listened intently to everyone’s stories, the way his shoulder occasionally brushed mine as we sat together, each casual touch sending sparks through my entire body.