Coast Guard Courtship. Lisa Carter
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a story, Braeden recollected, about a plucky little sailboat exploring the deep blue sea.
Max nodded and scrambled beside Braeden. The little boy flipped past the title and copyright page. “It starts with the wind in the sails. Mimi makes wind sounds like this.”
He demonstrated by sucking in his cheeks and blowing out small puffs of air. Max recited the first five lines from memory. The clean, just-bathed scent of the little boy reminded Braeden of the boy he’d once been. And of the parents who once read this same story to him.
Braeden let go of the book. “Sounds as though you don’t need me to read it to you. You know it by heart.”
All motion ceased. Max’s eyes shot up to Braeden’s. A pucker creased the ridge between his eyes. “I guess so...” His voice faded and Max looked down at the tiny car he clutched in his hand.
“But...” Braeden swallowed against the unexpected feeling. “Since it’s been a long time since I read the story, maybe you and I—we—could read it together. You could coach me on the parts I’ve forgotten or if I don’t do the sounds like Mimi.”
“Really?” Max blinked at him.
“How about it?”
Max snuggled closer, and before long Braeden found himself as caught up in the story of the brave little sailboat as Max. They laughed together at the funny seagull parts. They groaned as the sailboat’s timbers shivered in the midst of a typhoon and high waves.
By the time they reached the climax where the boat sighted a distant, welcoming shore, Max had curled into Braeden’s lap.
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