The Last Ferry Home

"Last call for the seven o'clock ferry! Last call!"

Harriet tried not to feel too discombobulated as she attempted to juggle her wheeled suitcase, her carry-on bag, her purse, and a windbreaker. Now she remembered why she didn't like traveling alone: there was never anyone else around to help with the luggage. The extra hands would have been nice right about then. And then, just as she managed to get up the ramp and past the ferry's threshold, her jacket escaped the crook of her elbow and fell to the ground. She offered an apologetic smile to the ferry worker waiting to collect her ticket, but he didn't even move an inch to help her retrieve her wayward windbreaker.

"Need a hand?"

Startled, Harriet looked up to find herself staring into brown eyes crinkled in amusement. And the face surrounding those eyes was far too handsome. Normally, she would distrust such a face, but the embarrassment she felt circumvented all manner of normal thought.

"Yes, please," she said, her voice a tad too breathless even though the sound was really just exasperation. When had common decency become such a hard commodity to come by?

The man himself relieved her of her suitcase and also picked up the jacket from the floor. She noticed he did not have any luggage himself, a bit of an oddity with people coming from the island and going to the mainland. He cast a glance back to her.

"Did you want this with the other luggage, or did you want to keep it with you?"

"I'll leave it, thanks," she said, and the man left to put her suitcase among the rows of others. The ferry worker was still waiting for her ticket, which she managed to find after rummaging through her purse. Still blushing from the utter chaos she had caused, she headed down the rows of seats to find somewhere secluded where she could calm down.

A few minutes later, her "helper" found her at the back of the ferry in a seat right next to a window. Confused, she looked around her at all the empty seats as if they would answer her question why this man had singled her out of everyone else.

"Hello again," he said, revealing white teeth when he smiled. "You looked like you could use some company. Do you mind if I sit here?"

Harriet couldn't help feeling flattered, even though a lingering glance told her this man was probably twenty years younger than her. What would he want from a hapless middle-aged woman who couldn't even handle luggage by herself? And then there was his lack of suitcase or bag too. A part of her felt the need to be at least a little suspicious.

"If you'd like," she said, trying to sound distant and nonchalant while adding a shrug to the mix. The man sat down a seat away, the middle seat between them, and he ran his hands down his pant legs.

"Sorry," he said, glancing back her way. "I'm not the best on boats."

"You get seasick?" Her inner caregiver rushed to try and fix the situation. She opened her purse and dug through the contents. "I may have something for that—"

The man raised his hand and gave an embarrassed little grin. "No, no, that's okay. I just work through it with deep breathing exercises. All those yoga sessions at the gym are worth the money for something at least."

Harriet made a humming noise, though she herself preferred taking long walks as opposed to going to the gym. Too many twenty-somethings who made her flabby form stand out too much by comparison. "Well, if you change your mind, let me know."

She thought that was the end of it as she pulled out her tablet from her purse, but a few minutes later she felt like she was being watched. Looking up, she saw the man still stealing glances at her in the universal unspoken language of wanting to start a conversation but being unable to do so.

"Do you have something on your mind?" she found herself asking. The man did look a bit embarrassed for having been caught peeking at her.

"You look like someone I used to know," he said, all in a rush, and that urge to feel flattered nearly overtook her again. But this time she resisted it because those words had been a common pick-up line—at least back in her day. She wasn't sure about this man's generation.

Harriet sighed as she shut her tablet case. "I'm not sure you noticed, but I am a bit older than you," she said. "And I know all the tricks of the trade in the decades I have on you."

To her surprise, the man looked alarmed. "Oh. Oh, no, I didn't mean to make you think—oh, God, how embarrassing. I really was being sincere. You look like my mom, back when she was alive."

Oh. Oh. Now Harriet was the one who felt mortified. To think, she had thought he wanted to try and sweet talk her before her flight in the morning, and—and—

She couldn't stop herself from laughing at herself. Uproariously. "Oh, heaven help me, I am so sorry. I just—oh, dear, I embarrassed myself again."

The man shook his head, and she was glad to see he was actually taking humor from the situation too. "I mean, no offense, but I really wasn't trying to put the moves on you."

Harriet wiped a tear from her eye from laughing so hard. "No offense taken," she said. "Now, young man, what's your name?"

"James," he said, a soft smile on his face. "What's yours?"

"Harriet," she replied, holding out her hand and shaking his. "It's nice to meet you. And I'm sorry for the misunderstanding."

"No need to feel sorry. You should take it as a compliment, really, since my mother was a beautiful woman."

"I'm sorry you lost her," she said. "Do you want to talk about her, or—?"

"I actually just came back from visiting her," James said. When Harriet gave him a questioning look, he added, "She's buried on the island."

"Oh, I see," she said. "Do you visit often?"

"Once every few weeks," he said. "I get on the first ferry, stay the day, and take the last ferry home. She loved the place."

"You must have felt like you had seen a ghost then," Harriet said.

James nodded. "It was a bit of a scare, yeah," he said, "but it could be a good omen. Meeting you, I mean."

"Well, I'm flattered, either way," she replied. Then she considered, silently calculating, before she decided to dive into the deep with her next question. "Do you want to get a bite to eat once we're back on the mainland?"

His face brightened. "Yeah, yeah," he said. "I'd like that."

"Okay." She found herself smiling again, relaxing back into her seat. "Then we'll do just that, James."

"Great."

And the whole ride back, even while the ferry passed other boats heading back to shore before nightfall, they talked between them as if they were lifelong friends. It was strange yet serendipitous, the perfect kind of meeting, the final touch on what had been a splendid vacation.