Love, Unexpected. Virginia McCullough

      Zeke gave Andi a pointed look. “I’ll come with you, Dad. We can get it all sorted out.”

      “Did you say rain gear?” Andi asked, hoping her instincts were right and she was following Zeke’s lead.

      Nodding, Zeke said, “It’s a new brand we’re trying out. The first order arrived yesterday.”

      “I was just thinking that Brooke needs a raincoat. For the summer. She outgrew her old one.”

      “We have some in children’s sizes.” Zeke followed Art to the deck and off the boat.

      “Why don’t I get Brooke and we’ll be right along,” Andi suggested. “We’ll bring Teddy with us.”

      Although clearly distracted, Zeke said, “Okay, that’s good.”

      Sensing something was going on between Art and Zeke she didn’t understand, Andi went back inside the cabin to get Brooke and the dog. Wow, in a split second, the atmosphere had changed. Or, more to the point, Zeke’s mood had changed. Worry had changed his eyes, darkened his expression. Over raincoats?

      * * *

      THE RACK ZEKE had cleared for the new rain gear stood empty. Only the old hanging display held the same brand of heavy—some called it stiff and uncomfortable—rain jackets and pants they’d sold for years. “There’s nothing wrong with the old foul-weather gear, Dad,” Zeke said, keeping his hand on top of the pile of new jackets, “but we need to offer the lighter-weight type. I’ve done the research. People like it. Not everyone needs to be dressed for a gale, not when they’re out for an afternoon in their runabout.”

      Agitated, Art slapped the side of the box. “Did you see the price on those pieces? They might be lightweight, but that doesn’t make them any good. Could be just the opposite.”

      Zeke made his case about quality and customers asking for the newer gear. “You and I talked about this before I put the order in.”

      Such a small thing, but it was the kind of incident that triggered Zeke’s growing fear about his dad. They’d been over and over the need to update merchandise, including a line of upscale marine clothing perfect for the cold, damp Midwest days. “Remember what we talked about, Dad. It’s not only about what the customers need, it’s about what they want, what they ask for.”

      “Maybe so, but I don’t remember ordering any of this,” Art said, his voice rising with every word. “Our regular rain gear has served this store and our customers for over fifty years.”

      Back to where they started. If he didn’t stop it in its tracks, they’d repeat the whole circle of thought. He didn’t like strong-arming his dad about decisions affecting the store, but Zeke found himself forced into it more and more. The squeak of the screen door opening came as a relief. Andi and Brooke might distract Dad and put the brakes on the argument. Teddy came in so fast, he slid across the floor. “Well, Teddy, you’re having the best day ever,” Zeke said. Like I was...until now.

      “We hear you have rain jackets here. Did we come to the right place?” Andi’s tone was so cheery it hurt. She was nobody’s fool. She’d read the situation well enough to know something wasn’t quite right.

      He watched her study the piles of yellow raincoats. Maybe later, he’d have a chance to pull her aside and tell her what he’d uncovered about Drifting Dreamer. It wasn’t all that much, but it was something.

      “We stick with the standard yellow,” Art said to Brooke. “Any other color and you’ll look like a landlubber.”

      Brooke giggled. At times like this, when his dad was funny and entertaining, it seemed a shame he’d never had a grandchild to dote on. But the next minute, his dad’s face seemed to cloud over. Befuddled, he turned to Zeke. “So, what were you saying? You want me to box all this up?”

      Zeke lifted a handful of folded jackets out of the carton. “Nope, we’re going to stack some and hang up the rest.” His arms loaded with jackets, Zeke went across the store and put them on a display table.

      “I wish you’d told me about this order,” Art said, his tone accusatory and plaintive.

      Forcing a reassuring, soothing tone of voice, Zeke said, “No big deal.” He turned to Andi, whose now solemn gaze was focused on his dad. Zeke’s chest was heavy with raw impatience. No excuses, no weaseling out of the reality that irritation with his dad had nearly gotten the better of him. And over a shipment of raincoats.

      So often the what’s-next? question loomed in Zeke’s mind. His fears of what was ahead were a constant presence, part of being vigilant, always on guard. What if his dad had managed to pack that merchandise and send it back? When he played the question out, all the way to the end, he relaxed long enough to see it could have been written off as a simple mistake and quickly corrected. But what was happening to his dad wasn’t so easily fixed.

      Since he’d brought Andi into their small world, he’d need to give her a heads-up. Regret lodged in his chest. Maybe he’d made a big mistake. Scrapping Drifting Dreamer would have been a whole lot easier.

      Brooke’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Where did Teddy go?”

      “He’s probably flopped down in his bed next to the file cabinets,” Art said, grinning. “You probably tuckered him out. He’s not used to having a lively kid around.” Art pointed to the open door to the office. “Why don’t we go see what he’s up to?”

      “Maybe he needs water or something,” Brooke said, following Art.

      Andi smiled as she moved closer to the counter. “You should have seen Brooke just now. She caught a little of the excitement about living on the boat, discovering how many cubbyholes and shelves she has in her cabin.”

      Zeke nodded, but then gestured around him. “Sorry I had to run off so fast, but real life intruded around here.”

      “No problem,” Andi said, patting one of the boxes. “Since I’m already here, why don’t I help you finish unpacking this carton? You said it has the kids’ jackets? I can pick out the size for Brooke and let her try it on.”

      Zeke responded forcefully. “You don’t need to do that.”

      “But I want to.” She held his gaze, almost challenging him. “I insist.”

      “Well, okay, follow me.” He carried the carton to the display table in their clothing section and explained the process of getting them displayed and ready to sell.

      “Sounds straightforward enough. And I’m sure I’ll find a new jacket for Brooke.” She leaned toward him. “Is everything okay—with Art, I mean?”

      Zeke shook his head, grateful for the opening handed to him. “Something’s off. It’s not your imagination. I’ll explain later when we’re alone. But Art’s fine most of the time.”