“Okay… Mike,” Will said. “It’s right nice of you, though.”
“I had my reasons,” Mike said. “They’re strange reasons, but very real. I sort of had an epiphany around the time that I dragged Lindsey out of the water. I think in a way that Lindsey saved me as much as the other way around. This is sort of a… resolution of that.”
“Well, Lindsey’s sure getting along with your daughter,” the man said, waving to where Lindsey and Martya were splashing each other and giggling fit to die.
“Oh. Uhm…” Mike paused then shrugged. “Martya’s not exactly my daughter. She’s one of my… wards. I’m her guardian.”
“Oh,” Will said. “I’d wondered about you having so many kids. What about that one?” he asked, pointing at Tinata.
“Ward,” Mike said.
“Those three?”
“Wards.”
“That one?”
“Oh, one of my… employees…”
“She looks… a little young…”
“Look, Will, just go with the flow,” Mike said, accepting a beer from Britney as she walked by. The lieutenant was looking better as well. “Changes in latitude and all that.”
“Yeah,” Will said, obviously just a tad confused. “Nice boat, too. You doing renovations?”
Mike looked over at the yacht. The former White Line was undergoing an extensive paint job and some cosmetic work to its superstructure.
“Mostly cleanup,” Mike said. “I live over by the Black Sea. I figure I’ll drive her over there, use her to cruise around, you know? Maybe I won’t have to rent a yacht. Next time.”
He was wondering if he could manage to hang onto all the boats or if the U.S. government would insist on getting them back, when he drifted off to sleep in the sun.
To sleep, perchance to dream…