On the Rocks (A Turtle Island Novel) by Kim Law

them had the entire island to themselves.
    Had he been looking for this when he’d climbed into his car and driven over for the sunrise? Had he known Ginger would be there? Or had he just hoped?
    He’d been home for only a couple of hours that morning, after spending the evening at a bar and the predawn hours sobering up with a long walk. But when he’d arrived at the house, he’d been unable to make himself go in. Instead, he’d sat on the front porch and thought about his life.
    How had he gotten to this place?
    That question had badgered him for months. Since the moment his wife had opened the door to her Manhattan apartment and he’d known instantly that their marriage was over.
    He’d followed the rules. He’d played the game right.
    Top-notch college, glowing reports from jobsites, plaques showcasing charitable donations. He’d been a kind and understanding husband. Lisa had gotten all the space she’d needed to work on her career, while he’d steadily built his name in the engineering field—remaining patient concerning his status as an author until their finances were secure. He’d made no missteps. Yet here he sat. Alone. Miserable.
    And pissed.
    And yeah, maybe his marriage hadn’t been perfect, but whose was?
    “There it is.” Ginger lifted a hand and pointed off into the distance, and Carter pulled his head from the past. He saw the house then . . . and he was impressed.
    “Nice location,” he said. It was on a slight rise, overlooking the ocean.
    “Right?” She glowed with pride. “My dad purchased the land years before he died. He’d planned to build a new house for him and Mom as the business grew, but he never got to do it.”
    She slowed and turned off the main road before picking her story back up.
    “After he passed, Mom refused to think about taking the insurance money and building. She said she loved their house too much to do anything with this property. It’s the home they’d always lived in together.”
    She glanced at him, and he remembered how much her parents had loved each other. They’d reminded him of his parents in that respect, but where his parents had two kids to devote their time and attention to, the Atkinsons had only Ginger. And she’d been a total daddy’s girl.
    “Do you still miss him?” he asked.
    She nodded. Her smile grew tight, and her chest rose with a deep breath. “All the time.”
    They pulled into the driveway, and a few seconds later stopped beside the house. He whistled under his breath.
    “It’s not finished,” she warned. “On the inside.” She opened her door. “Mom deeded the property over to me on my twenty-first birthday. Which was also the same year I decided that running Daddy’s business wouldn’t be temporary.”
    They climbed from the car, and when her eyes landed on the pack of cigarettes in his hand, she gave him the same withering look that had crossed her face at the rock.
    “No smoking in my house,” she informed him.
    He eyed the pack, unaware it had been in his hand, before tossing it back into the car. On their way up the sidewalk, he returned to talk of the house. “What made you build now? Was it simply a matter of having the money?”
    That hadn’t been it for him. It had been time to build. He’d reached all his other goals, and he’d been ready for kids.
    Ginger didn’t respond immediately, and when they reached the base of the steps, they turned as one to take in the view. It was breathtaking. Ocean as far as the eye could see, the beach spread out before them. And to the north, the outline of another barrier island.
    Her house didn’t sit too high above sea level—no land on the island did—but he could imagine the view from the top floor. That was what he’d wanted for his office.
    Ginger put her back to the ocean and faced him, her chin tilting up. “I turned thirty this year,” she explained. “And I decided that it was time to take my life into my own hands. To quit sitting around, waiting