A Life Once Lived

By Tracy Dale

Waverly Jones is always game to try something new. But, when she tries her hand at sailing, and instead finds herself falling into a vortex in the middle of the ocean, death seems certain. Yet somehow, she lands at the foot of a strange woman, two-hundred years before her time, who insists she become a part of the English society she’s now in.

Attending balls, house parties, and meeting curious visitors suddenly become a part of the life she must live, and with her good humor and funny mannerisms, she charms more than a few. Yet her secret determination to return home never wavers. Until she discovers there’s an assassin tasked with getting rid of her if she tries.

Forced to make choices she never dreamed of, she escapes on a ship bound to the Americas with a sea captain that has far more secrets than she ever imagined. As their unusual friendship grows, Waverly must survive the dangers that continue to follow her, and find her way in a time and place that’s not her own.


Amusing, mysterious and romantic, A Life Once Lived is an epic adventure that takes you on an exciting journey across an ever-changing landscape in time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Flying Feather Publishing
• Release date: Oct 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9780999209820

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

I GREW UP POOR BEFORE my father married up. We went from having to split a half order of chow mien from the local Chinese food place to employing a personal chef who’d make me some as a snack. I gained a ton of weight. One day my dear ol’ stepmom suggested I show some restraint because the food would always be available whenever I wanted it. No need to gorge, Waverly, she said.

I was annoyed. Okay, and a little embarrassed. I’d already been using a rubber band around the waist of my new pants to hold the ends together because I couldn’t get them to button anymore.

So I stopped gorging and started doing stuff. Except, ever heard that phrase, Jack of all trades, master of none? My dad says it all the dang time, because it kind of defines me. I can do a little bit of just about everything, but I can’t do any of it really well. And now with my debutante-because-dad-married-a-ridiculously-rich-wife-with-old-southern-money status, that little trademark is no longer considered an endearing quirk of my personality and more an indication of my flakiness. As pointed out by - wait for it – dear ol’ stepmom again.

You’d think I’d hate her. You really would, but I just can’t bring myself to. She’s the nicest woman I’ve ever met, and I actually believe her when she says she looks at me like I’m her new daughter. Little bit awkward the first time she said it. Every time since has made me smile. My dad chose well.

There’s a beauty pageant I want you to enter, Waverly.

I nearly choked on my milk. Nearly wasn’t dramatic enough so I made a show of picking up my spoon and dropping it on the table. I enjoyed the slight wince the clattering sound of the utensil caused my Smom, otherwise known as stepmom. Never. In. A. Million. Years.

Oh but you should! You’d look so pretty in a...red gown I think, with your fair complexion and dark— She gestured at my hair and eyes. "It’s just the thing to get you in the mind frame of a débutante."

Do you have to say it like the French do?

It’s a French word, Waverly. I say it as it should be said.

It makes me want to gag.

Keep your mouth closed when that happens and no one will notice.

I whimpered. This is so archaic. I’m not meeting the future King of England or anything.

Which one are you referring to?

Stay on topic, Smom. Beauty pageants are so not my thing.

And how would you know unless you’ve tried it? You could sing as a talent—

Have you heard me sing?

No, but it’s easy to carry a tune.

Dad says I sound like Kurt Cobain when I sing. Seriously, I nail those Nirvana songs. I laughed picturing myself in one of those big, sparkly dresses with frou-frou hair and too much makeup, belting out some grunge rock.

I have no idea what you’re talking about, she said.

Doesn’t matter. The answer’s still no.

She sighed. Very well. But you must choose something to focus on.

Can I try archery next week? I think I’d be great at it.

She gave me a long look that wavered somewhere between hopeless and hopeful. Why not stick with the horseback riding? Or the dancing? Or the ice skating? Or the fencing, or the—

Whoa there. I think we get the idea. I can’t help it if I never got to try anything before you married Dad. We never could afford it.

Smom’s face softened. "We can try archery. But, let’s hope this is the one for you. The most successful débutantes are skilled in many things with a confidence built on the knowledge of their—"

I stopped hearing her after that. Completely by accident, but since I couldn’t quite tell her that I didn’t particularly care about being a debutante it stood to reason I couldn’t quite listen either.

How quickly life can change. I know people say that all the time, but in my case it was actually true. I grew up in North Hollywood, which sounds glamorous but so isn’t. It’s rough and kind of dirty and there are a lot of people like me who don’t have enough money for such an expensive place to live.

Dad’s an Assistant Director, but not a very good one and would hardly ever get called for jobs. He wouldn’t have minded his lacking success if it weren’t for me. Most of the time he just wanted to surf waves, but after my mom left and he became my one and only, he tried so hard to get more work so I could do a fraction of the stuff I can do now.

Still, it was his Assistant Director status that captured Smom’s attention when he’d traveled out to Texas for a commercial he’d been lucky enough to work on. Or maybe it was his golden surfer looks that did it, but it was his job that made him suitable enough to be welcomed into Smom’s family.

Kind of pretentious?

Totally. Do I care? A little. It’s too much a relief to not be hungry all the time for it to truly get to me.

Why didn’t you wake me? my stepsister, Charlotte wailed as she ran into the breakfast room.

All I said was, Summer break, Cee. It had only started last week. I was actually a little disappointed. Dad and I had moved to Texas halfway through the school year so I was instantly interesting to all my classmates. Everyone knew I came from Hollywood. I carefully refrained from mentioning it was the poor part.

You promised to drive me to my riding lesson, Wave, she said over her shoulder as she set three-minute eggs on her plate. Therefore, you should be aware when I’m not around to be driven.

You’re not that late and anyway I thought you were taking extra time to primp for Toby. Her teacher. He was only two years older than us, at nineteen, but he was considered one of the best horseback riding instructors in our set. Of course, his success rating was determined by a bunch of girls who found his smile to die for. Well he was cute.

Cee sat down at the table.

Smom smiled at her blushing cheeks. I understand Finn has been there when you drop Charlotte off.

Maybe because he lives there?

They are brothers, Mom.

I nudged her under the table in gratitude. She always backs me up, always supports me. I got two for the price of one in my dad’s marriage.

I have it on excellent authority that he likes you, Waverly, Smom said.

I know, I said, glumly.

Every debutante wants an escort, she continued. You couldn’t ask for a more handsome one. Imagine what beautiful pictures you would make together.

Gross. She gave me a look. I just can’t, Smom. He totally ignored me when I gained all that weight. It was like I suddenly didn’t exist once my pant size doubled. And when it tripled, I was completely see through.

Entirely ironic if you think about it, Charlotte said.

When I started to lose the weight, he started to see me again. I snapped my fingers. Just like that.

Men are visual creatures, dear. You can’t blame them for the way they are made.

They’re made to see only the shape of my body and not the sparkling wonderfulness of my shining personality?

Come now, Waverly, Smom said. You grew up in the plastic surgery capital of the world.

And it never looks right, let me tell you.

The point is, dear, attraction comes first for most males. You can’t blame him if he wasn’t attracted to you for a while.

Yes I can. But even if I didn’t, I’d live in fear of having an inexplicable urge to eat too much chocolate cake. What if I couldn’t resist and he dumped me for gaining a pound or ten? A relationship built on a scale seems pretty unstable to me.

I’m with Wave on this one, Charlotte said.

Smom smiled. Of course you are.

I made a performance of looking at my owl watch-necklace. Charlotte instantly stood up and grabbed her purse. Must go, Mom.

We each gave her a kiss before we left. I hesitated for a moment though, before I walked away from my dirty plate. I still couldn’t get used to not cleaning up after myself, even though someone was always nearby to do it. The maid actually looked at me like I was offending her if I tried to help. Like I was trying to take her job or something.

We hurried to my car that cost more than my dad had made in the last three years. I almost hated to drive it, I was so afraid of damaging it, but Smom and Grandpa—he refused to be called Sgrandpa—insisted I get it. I know, I know, that sounds ridiculous, but I saw the price tag and I thought about all the people who could be fed for years in third world countries if I got a typical first car and donated the price difference.

Grandpa had been amused. Smom had reminded me we need to live up to our status in society.

It didn’t sit well with either me or my dad, but we were both in this weird place where we couldn’t possibly complain because we were so unbelievably grateful to have healthy food in our bellies every day and a comfortable, safe place to live. Basically, we didn’t have to worry anymore. So we found ways to work around it.

Grandpa wanted to give Dad a job at his company as Senior VP of Marketing, but Dad refused. Instead he got majorly involved in Habitat for Humanity and started filming a documentary on what they do and who they do it for. He’s excited about it. Smom’s proud, even though he has to travel a lot because of it.

And I’ve boycotted all the designer shops Smom and Cee like and insist I get all my clothes from vintage shops. It helps that I love that style anyway, but mostly I still feel like me when I wear them instead of some poor girl with a pathetic case of pretendsies.

With a seriously amazing car.

I slid my strapless, red polka-dot mini-dressed self onto my leather seat and watched Cee like a hawk to make sure she got in just as carefully as me. Watch your shoes! I yelled as her riding boots got perilously close to the dashboard. I did warn you, I added, at her long-suffering look.

I started the car and listened to it purr. Every day, for the seven months I’ve had it, I’d felt that same thrill of excitement. Never got old.

Halfway to the Jette estate I took my eyes off the road for a fraction of a second. You look gorgeous. Like a true southern belle with cascading blond curls and light brown eyes.

No I don’t, but thank you for saying so. She did polite so well. Toby plays me like every other girl he teaches, and I’m the idiot who lets it happen.

We all have our flaws.

You’re the only one who doesn’t tell me I’m not an idiot.

See how much I love you?

We pulled up to the Jette stables where Finn and Toby were already waiting. I got out while Charlotte stared at him with her heart in her eyes. Oh it was painful to watch.

Not riding today, Waverly? Toby said.

I finished my lessons. I can satisfactorily ride a horse to a garden party without getting thrown once. I am pleased by this.

Finn laughed and managed to sidle up next to me.

Toby said, Just satisfactory though. You could be very good, maybe even great.

I can’t think of a single reason why I would need skill beyond what I already have.

Competition, he said, like I should already know.

Not competitive. Cee is though. Have at her.

She went pasty pale. I cringed at my careless words because I know how nervous she is around people. It’s a trait that has apparently gotten better since we became sisters but any kind of flirtatious banter is still impossible for her and any extra attention makes her incredibly anxious. I’d just put her in a position for both.

I turned to Finn. Do you like my dress? I just got it. I knew he would take it as a sign that I was into him but I had to take the attention from my sister.

I wanted to punch him as he did a slow perusal over my body. I wasn’t nearly as skinny as I had been when I first moved there, but I looked healthy now and toned from all my activities.

It looks amazing on you.

I’m so glad, I said with brain-dead cheerfulness. Cee mouthed Thank you.

Toby lead Charlotte inside the exercise ring to her waiting mount while I settled in for a tedious hour. Charlotte wasn’t a great rider. She couldn’t relax enough to manage a smooth canter, and every time she took her horse over a jump it was worrying. Probably why Toby mostly kept her to trotting over poles on the ground.

I rested my elbows on the dusty railing and propped my chin in my hands, deliberately ignoring Finn as he leaned sideways against the fence, facing me.

What are you doing this weekend? he said.

Nothing. Oh I’m so busy. I thought quickly. I’m helping my dad create a story board for his documentary.

Wow that’s cool. What’s it about?

I rambled, on and on, until I was pretty sure he forgot why he’d asked in the first place, and then I made an excuse about needing to use the ladies room. By the time I moseyed on back, the lesson was over. I have outstanding avoidance skills.

I was just asking Charlotte, Toby said, if you two were free this weekend.

Oh. I... Darn it. Cee was already looking at me with hope in her eyes.

She’s helping her dad with story boards, Finn said.

But he’s— Cee caught my look and said carefully, He told me that he didn’t need to do it this weekend.

He did?

Finn brightened. We’re taking our sailboat out on Saturday and we wanted you two to come.

Who else will be there? Was there such a thing as a sailing yacht? Because I knew that’s what they had. If it was just the four of us managing it, there was all kinds of scariness in my future.

Our father will be there with his crew, and a few of our other friends.

It wasn’t lost on me that this was an exclusive party and we would be considered lucky to get an invite. The Jettes were a really well-to-do family that just about everyone wanted to be connected with.

I knew it wasn’t lost on Charlotte that I didn’t particularly get why I should care. Hence the pleading quality to her gaze. If my dad is sure he doesn’t need my he—

He is, Charlotte said.

Then with perfect charm, courtesy of Miss Manners and yes, some private instruction from a Manners Coach—don’t get me started—I said, Then we would love to come.

CHAPTER TWO

I ROCKED AT ARCHERY. For the first time I did something extremely well, and almost immediately too. As soon as I picked up that bow and arrow it just...fit. Like I was born to use it.

My lessons were scheduled for the moment we got home from riding. Through the magic of Smom’s name or some killer string- pulling, she had me booked and shipped off to Ms. Jenny Shue’s School of Archery. Which wasn’t really a school. More like a backyard, but she was an Olympic Medalist, so where she wanted to teach, the people came.

She was five-foot-nothing with tapes all over her fingers and an expression that said, I don’t mess around. She handed me a bow that looked way too big, and an arrow that didn’t, and told me how to stand with my posture just so, my bow arm at shoulder height and my fingers split on opposite sides of the arrow. I listened carefully to her instruction, aimed and hit my target. I was pumped. And each time I did it, I just got better.

You must come every day, Ms. Shue said when the lesson was over. She was almost militant in her demeanor. Archery was life.

Every single one? That sounded suspiciously like dedication to me. For how long?

However long it takes. She looked over at Smom, who had an I’m So Proud of You expression on her face. She has an unusual ability and could easily progress to Olympic standards.

Really? Smom gasped.

Why does everyone try to get me to compete? I said. I just like to do stuff. I don’t care about beating Joe next door.

Parents have selective hearing too, because it was as if I didn’t speak at all. I shrugged and went back to practicing while they hashed out my schedule. Since I really was enjoying the whole posture, focus, release of the bow and arrow thing, I didn’t think I’d mind dedicating more time to it. Plus, I felt kind of badass doing it.

Every day then, I heard Smom confirm.

Except this Saturday, I called over my shoulder. I made sure my stance was picture perfect before I released my arrow. It hit just inside the bulls-eye. Holla.

Why not Saturday? Smom said.

Going sailing. I deliberately dragged out telling her who with, because it amused me.

I swear I saw Smom’s shoulders slump. Another hobby you’re interested in?

I made a face. Dial back the disappointment, Smom and get your cheerleader face on because this would be considered a homerun.

Ms. Shue’s grumbling interrupted my delivery. She started to herd us out of her backyard. She didn’t touch us, didn’t say a word but just kept walking into our personal space so that we automatically moved until we were in front of our car. Be here tomorrow, on time. She disappeared into her house.

It was lovely working with you today, I called sweetly to her closed front door.

We got in Smom’s car. I hated not taking mine, but Smom’s was in fact—and it pains me to say this—better. More swank, more purr, more wow.

What’s the homerun? she said as soon as we were on the road again.

Want to wait for it? Let the anticipation build? I looked at her extremely patient expression and said, Jettes. Sailing. Me and Cee.

Saintly patience became cheerleaderish excitement. You’ve been-

Yes.

When? Saturday obviously. Charlotte—

Will wear something boaty.

Is she—

Beyond excited.

She shot me an exasperated look. Can I finish a sentence?

Only if I’m not answering the forming question accurately.

She smiled. I’d gotten at least two out of three right and we both knew it. This is fantastic news, Waverly. They’re such a prominent family and Charlotte—

I didn’t interrupt this time but I knew what she was going to say. Cee had been a social outcast most of her life, which had been painful for her and awkward for the family. Nobody wants to say it out loud, but when Grandpa is rubbing shoulders with Mr. Jette, it hurts the greasing business wheels when the family fails to impress. Smom was dumped by her husband after his scandalous affair with a teenager. Humiliating. Cee was having panic attacks by the time puberty hit and could barely handle being in public. Embarrassing. At least, that's what's implied, which seems pretty cold to me.

Smom was blinking rapidly, trying to hold back the tears, so I said again, And Charlotte will wear something boaty.

Except she didn’t. Five days later, Cee came strolling down the stairs in mini-heeled sandals, super short black shorts and a belly-baring halter top. I gaped, and then said in an almost reverent tone, Oh my God. You’ve been possessed by an exotic dancer.

She rolled her eyes, but ruined the effect with a bright blush. This is the first time I’ll be around Toby not wearing riding clothes. I want to look—

Easy?

I was going to say available.

I’m not sure looking that available— I scanned up and down her outfit, —is the kind of available you want to go for. I shrugged at her stubborn expression. At least put on flats.

Because you know so much about sailing you’ve got the clothes figured out?

Well obviously. Have you looked at me? I had sailing chic down. Like, so down. White linen shorts, blue striped boat-neck tee, red polka dot chiffon scarf tied in my hair around my ponytail, and white flats that looked, well, boaty.

And yes, I have a thing for red polka dots.

Cee rolled her eyes again but she did turn around and run back upstairs to change. Five minutes later she looked better. She had on a turquoise racer-back dress and tan sandals that were indeed flat. I didn’t think the dress was a good idea but I’d already said my piece, and we were running late. I hate being late.

I’m so hungry, she said on a yawn when we got in the car.

Should have been up earlier to get some breakfast. I reached in my canvas bag that had a rope tying it closed. Which was also boaty. I get really into my themes.

I pulled out a protein bar and waved it in her face. You may eat this when we depart the vehicle.

She snatched it from my hand. If I eat it through the wrapper, crumbs are an impossibility.

Improbability. And no. I pulled into the yacht club parking lot and was relieved to see Finn right away. I hate not knowing exactly where I’m going. That’s been one of the biggest challenges for me with moving here.

He was at my door soon as I hit park and Charlotte was unwrapping her bar before her door was open. I’m going to starve you next time, I threatened as Finn opened my door.

Huh? he said.

I smiled brightly up at him as he helped me alight from the car. No really, he was so helpful alight is the only way to describe it. Ever think about being a caretaker? I asked, adding to his sweet confusion. In fact, that’s the only time I truly liked him. When he was confused.

Um? Like, taking care of what?

Gorillas? I suggested and liked him even better for a moment.

Girls! Mr. Jette boomed. He had a deep barrel chest that rumbled like thunder when he spoke. Volume control was not built into his sound system. ’Bout time you arrived.

Whadaya mean? I demanded, truly outraged. "I am right on time."

Everyone stared at me for a moment and I remembered that no one—no one—challenged Mr. Jette. How boring for him. I held up my shiny white wristwatch. To the T, Mr. J.

He stared hard at it, and then at me, and his face cracked with what could have been a smile as easily as it could have been a snarl. I went with Option Number One. And I am ready to sail like a pail without any mail. I finished my poem with ‘rock out’ hands.

Maaaaaybe I should have gone with Option Number Two. He turned away.

Toby looked at me with his smile on and said, Dad likes you. C’mon.

He does? I said to Finn, We weren’t late.

It was my fault. I told you the wrong time but I didn’t realize until this morning.

Seriously annoying. He put his hand on my shoulder and I really wanted to shake it off, but I tried to think of something to confuse him with instead.

Then I saw the sailboat. Ship. Sailshipboat. It was way more than what I had envisioned. We’re not...going to be required to do anything, right?

Huh?

Cute again. Will me or Cee need to do anything to keep it... moving and...upright? The thing was huge. Huge, huge. The kind of sailshipboat you see in movies of gazillionaires and drug lords and mafia Godfathers. Are you guys Italian?

Toby vaulted over the side onto the deck then held out a hand to help me on. Scandinavian. Why?

I didn’t think Mr. Jette would appreciate my mafia speculation. Because I love lasagna.

He looked at me like I was a curiosity and I shrugged then looked around the wood planked deck. My dad would so love to shoot this. I could just see him with his camera orchestrating action shots.

No. Boom again. Mr. Jette apparently heard my comment and gave his non-permission. Which was irritating, since I wasn’t asking.

Well I for one am not convinced, Mr. Jette. I said.

That expression again. I decided to go with Option Number One and a Half and smiled at him sweetly. Can I help you at all?

Get your floatation device on and pay attention.

Aye aye, Captain. I saluted and joined Cee at the railing.

Are you nuts? she whispered. You don’t talk to Mr. Jette like that. My mom would be freaking out right now.

Chilax. S’all good.

I hate when you say that.

So did the manners coach. Man, was she uptight.

Don’t you take anything seriously?

I tried not to get annoyed with her. I really did because she couldn’t help how nervous she was. I knew anxiety stayed with her like a shadow. But it was hard to always be understanding. I finally looked away from the activities of the crew and the Jettes to gaze at her. I skyped with my Dad yesterday. He showed me some footage of a family who can’t buy shoes and have a house made out of cardboard. I take that seriously.

She looked away then down at her blue-glittered toenails, sparkling like twinkle lights. I’m sorry I’m a bitch.

I swung my arm around her shoulders and squeezed. No you’re not. That puppy I want Smom to let me get is. I’m gonna name her Sky, did I tell you that? Charlotte started to smile and I felt relieved. We just take a different approach. I’m like the Buddha—even had the belly for a while there—and you’re like...like the...

She laughed because we both knew I had no idea.

A bunny rabbit! I said. Yeah, pretty, soft— I petted her hair. And a sweet personality that hops away when it feels uncertain. That’s totally you. And I didn’t even need a magic wand for that. You may thank me at any time.

She laughed softly and hugged me. I love you.

I love you too, sis. I was kind of surprised I felt a little teary about it.

Toby strode by us and said, That’s hot, girls. Squeeze a little more, will ya?

Cee and I immediately let go and I scanned the deck for something to threaten him with.

We’re casting off! Mr. Jette said.

Charlotte said, Isn’t it ‘setting sail’?

I dunno. Either works for me.

I couldn’t stand by the sidelines long. I got into the middle of it, doing nothing but I was there, ready to do whatever I was told.

I stayed like that for a long time. A really long time.

I unwound the long, red, polka dot scarf I’d tied in my hair so it fluttered beautifully in the wind, which is exactly why I’d worn it. I couldn’t see it but I could feel the way it floated and danced as the breeze played with it. When I lifted my face up to the brightening sky and posed, I knew I looked ah-may-zing.

I think Finn was the only one who noticed. I slouched a little to make my stomach poke out like maybe I was gaining weight again. Heh.

It took a while before we were out in the gulf, truly underway. I stayed in place, an eager expression on my face until the wind started really getting strong, rocking the sailshipboat in what might have been alarming if I didn’t know it was supposed to do that. Or at least it did in that commercial Dad worked on five years ago. I remember watching it and telling him what a great job he did and how action-packed it looked. This was pie compared to that.

But then... People started shouting. Hurrying was happening, and tension was tight around the mouth of more than just one person who was supposed to be the advisory staff. Did they look worried?

Why were they worried?

Grab the halyard, Waverly! Mr. Jette suddenly shouted. We’re going in irons!

I looked around for something that had Halyard written on it. What the heck is that?

One of the crew appeared and grabbed the line for hoisting the sails. Halyard, he said as he got the line going, before using a metal thing with a handle to finish the job. Winch.

What did you call me? I deliberately sounded suitably offended.

The guy looked startled, but when he saw my expression he chuckled. Mr. Jette wants to head into the wind. Be ready to run.

Whatever that meant.

For my first time on a sailboat, I was seriously enjoying the heck out of it. There was just so much going on, so much effort to capture the wind, I found it thrilling. Which was why I was still hanging out on the massive deck, smack dab in the center of it all while Cee and the Jette sons—oh wait. Jett-sons. Jetsons. I am so using that later—hung out on the sidelines.

I walked over to one of the two massive steering wheels, letting my scarf billow behind me with maximum effect.

Tie that thing up, Waverly, it might get caught! Mr. Jette shouted.

I grumbled and tied it into a bow and waited for instructions. We started to tip over. I screamed.

Everybody starboard, Mr. Jette roared. Somebody immediately roared back, He means port side!

I ran to whichever side was furthest from the water. I grabbed onto the railing just as Cee reached me. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, she gasped and held on with a death grip.

Seemed like he was doing okay to me.

It didn’t take long until we were level again and going so fast I couldn’t believe the sailshipboat wasn’t battery operated. I joined Mr. Jette at the steering wheels again and shouted as much to him.

He rumbled with laughter and boomed, Wind power.

I knew he was probably referring to all those fields with huge fan- type-things that used wind for energy, which I knew was also one of the things he was invested in—but I said, Like Girl Power

I could tell he was working out what exactly he thought I’d said. Whirl power? I supposed you could call it that.

I grinned. Yeah, Girl Power is pretty awesome, isn’t it? He looked at me suspiciously but still said, Yes, it is. Score one for the team.

Want to try steering? he said and I felt bad for teasing him because he was giving me what I wanted so blatantly that he already had Option Number One on his face as he moved back to let me take the wheel he was holding.

The Heavens decided to be amusing the moment I fully controlled the wheel. A huge gust of wind—huge—slammed into us, catching the sails and jerking us so that I almost fell and let go. Mr. Jette, for some insane reason did not take control back from me, instead shouted, Turn the wheel to the right, Waverly!

Holy heck holy heck holy heck, I chanted as I turned, with a lot more effort than I thought it would take. But then I turned too far and one side of the ship lifted so suddenly that Toby fell and Charlotte screamed.

"Oops! I shouted as I turned the wheel back again, though with a little less enthusiasm. The ship evened out and we were once again sailing smoothly. I finally took a breath. Booyah."

Definitely a natural, Mr. Jette drawled, his Texas accent particularly thick.

I loved it. I knew he was teasing me because there was nothing natural about practically capsizing the moment I took the wheel, but I still said, That’s right, y’all in an accent just like his and he laughed.

He really did like me, because he kept me at his side the entire time. Even when I saw Charlotte and Sons getting something to eat and I said, I’m hungry, he kept me at his side. Stay here and learn, Waverly. You can eat later.

I said okay and stayed because what else was I going to do? It was his food.

Charlotte must have known I was hungry too, because she kept looking at me, and then at whatever gourmet cheese, fruit, cracker, bread, cookie, yummyness she had, and back at me again. She put on an expression of Mmm-mm Good as she took a bite.

I was definitely going to starve her the next early morning we had.

But I learned a lot from Mr. Jette in the hours we sailed: all the basic terms of the sailboat, the nuances of the steering wheel, and even a bit about navigating with a compass, which I thought was pretty spectacular of me. I was good with directions—say North and I’ll point—but using a compass to reach a destination was a whole other level of being directionally able.

When we were docked, Mr. Jette said, before I walked back to my car, I’ll invite you again, Waverly. Learn more in the time between.

You mean like lessons? Smom was going to loooove this.

I’ll have my secretary send your grandfather the contact details of an outstanding tutor. I’ll make sure he’s available to work with you immediately.

I nodded and barely restrained myself from snapping my fingers. Make it so, Mr. J.

He rumbled with a sound that I took for a chuckle and I smiled and waved as I walked away, but I remembered to call back to Toby and Finn, See you later, Jetsons. I could see Charlotte’s chest shuddering with giggles she was holding her breath to keep in. Classic, she whispered when she could.

I only wish I’d thought of it sooner. We got in the car and I showed an uncharacteristic urgency as I drove, which Charlotte noted, but I was hungry.

Not all of us got to snack on wine and cheese, I muttered.

Ew. I don’t like wine and anyway there wasn’t any.

We got back to the house and I ran to the kitchen to beg for a crepe with scrambled eggs, asparagus and tomato inside. My tastes have gotten ridiculous since I’ve had options.

Please, Bruno, I pleaded. Of course he was a French chef, straight from France. I mean, really, was there any other kind? Sometimes I even wished his name was Pierre. It sounded way more Chef-y and