I said, “Let’s head up to the bridge, fix cocktails, and watch the sunset.”
“Sounds good.”
“You said you’d love sail to Bimini. Want to go?”
“When?”
“In the morning.”
“You’re not kidding.”
“Nope.”
“You’ve got a first mate, captain. Let me call my sister to ask her to watch my dog for a while longer. How long should I tell her?”
“Tell her you’ll send a postcard.”
Kim grinned and raised her eyebrows.
We sat on the bench seat, the three of us, Max scouting the sea birds, Kim and I sipping rum punches, watching the sky drain into the ocean. After the sun vanished below the horizon, there was a half second green flash and then an inky purple and black smothered the candle smudge of daylight, and a much greater sea grew, a sea of darkness. It went opposite the way of the sun, sweeping high into the universe, turning on the nightlights, the stars, their ancient light falling from the heavens onto the faces, eyes, and imaginations of mortals below the vast curtain of the unknown.