"I can do nice and slow." She turned her head to meet his lips with hers. She kept a hand on the throttle and he a hand on the steering wheel as the boat plowed forward through the waves with the Primrose in tow.
***
After Mr. Pryde severed the lines, he and Wendell took up the oars to get the Primrose underway. Wendell squinted to make out Samantha and Joseph, but he couldn't see anything. When he strained his ears, he thought he could hear laughter over the oars and fishing boat's diesel engine.
"This is a mighty fine boat," Mr. Pryde said. "I knew the Amish made furniture and barns. I didn't know they made boats."
"It's not that hard," Wendell said. He considered telling Mr. Pryde about how he'd drawn the Primrose's design in less than two hours, but thought better of it. Mr. Pryde would never believe an eleven-year-old had designed a boat like this.
"You don't need to worry about them," Mr. Pryde said, looking over his shoulder at the fishing boat. "Joey's been driving that tub since he was in diapers."
Wendell nodded. He wasn't worried about Joseph's sailing abilities. He thought of Joseph on the boat alone with Samantha, the two of them laughing and talking like old friends. After everything that had happened, how could she still care about him? He'd nearly killed her!
"She'll be fine," Mr. Pryde said. He put down the oars, reaching up to unfurl the patchwork sail Prudence and Rebecca had made. The thought of Prudence made Wendell's stomach tighten with guilt.
"Mr. Pryde, have you ever cared about two girls and even though you know one is really great and the other doesn't care about you at all, you can't stop thinking about her?" Wendell said, following the grain of the wood on the deck to keep from meeting Mr. Pryde's eyes.
"You got to let her go," Mr. Pryde said. He flicked his cigarette into the water and then lit another one. "You got to move on. There's a nice gal waiting for you on the dock. I wouldn't let her go to chase after one who ain't ever going to take notice of you."
"Prudence is great," Wendell said before he could stop himself. "But I can't just forget about Samantha. I love her."
"Sometimes we got to let go of the ones we love. Took me nine years to figure that out." Mr. Pryde spat out the cigarette, snuffing it out with unnecessary force. "We're almost there. Get ready with those oars."
From this, Wendell knew the conversation was over. He had to admit Mr. Pryde was right. Samantha would never see him the same way he saw her. She would never love him. He thought of kissing childish little Samantha in his nightmare. That was as close as he could ever get to her.