Joy has made more important choices than anyone else she's ever met. For now, she chooses to lie on the aft deck, letting King Midas caress her face. She chose to put on sunscreen, protecting her from his most harsh glare. She chooses to lie here rather than sulk in her cabin with Lina. None of those choices matter much.
They all culminate in the only thing which matters. Joy chooses to be happy.
She has her eyes closed, and feels the coldness of a shadow above her.
"Ooh, can you stand a bit to the left?" she says. "Just, block my eyes a bit?"
"Right," Ethan steps a bit, just to help her.
She smiles, bright and wide.
Everything today was unexpected for the pair of them. They knew about the screw-up on deck, but neither of them expected to lose their jobs over someone else's mistake. Still, the thing which surprises Ethan the most is the soft curve of Joy's lips, and her shinning white teeth.
"I'm not going to really be bosun, eh?"
Joy laughs at him, just a little bit.
"You sound so Canadian."
The thought makes Ethan smile a bit. He doesn't have fond memories of the pothole that was his home, a depressing circle in the middle of the otherwise most beautiful province in his country. For all purposes, he looks and sounds just like Devon and August. Joy's voice is warmer, almost smelting him. Even in Greece though, he holds onto that part of where he came from.
But then the lack of pride returns, like a wave against the side of the hull that is wrong, and Ethan is wrong all over.
"JD."
"Shelly wants you to be bosun," Joy quirks an eyebrow. Then, she laughs. "And I never wanted the job anyway. I'm more upset about August than anything."
She knows she doesn't look it. She expects shock to cross Ethan's face, but it doesn't. Well, of course. She's no steward, but maybe she'd be good at it, smiling when you don't mean it. Half the battle in being happy is learning to mean it.
"We're going to need to order supplies."
Joy taps the spot on the ground next to her, "come on. Relax."
She moves her hand back and rests it next to her. She is beautiful, not the way stewards are pretty though. Her nails are short and the skin in her eyebrows is flaking and dry. She's got the hair of a mermaid and the voice of a siren, and against Ethan's better judgement, he lies down next to her.
"See," she smiles. "That's better."
~~~
Their escape route is fine, as always, but Bellamy told them to double-check it before they got ready for their night out.
"It would make more sense to check it tomorrow when we're in the harbour," Vic sighs, lifting up the seats in the back to count the life jackets. There are exactly thirteen life vests, enough for a charter worth of guests and Shelly. They have a separate lifeboat for the crew, one which they've already checked.
Lina looks out back toward the lazarette. The yacht doesn't look like it moves quickly. If she were standing on the deck as she has every day for the past two weeks, she'd feel the breeze in her hair, a light caress not a zephyr. She's seen a video though, one where a man got caught in ropes and fell off his yacht. The force is enough to rip off a limb. Lina steps in just to the inside of the tender.
