Free Gooseberry Island by Steven Manchester

beer.
    “Great,” Lindsey said, “I can’t wait ’til the next time we do a little family bonding.” Spending time with her father was like showering with a cheese grater—it got more painful each time.
    Ruggie laughed. “Next year, I’ll stay sober,” he said, “and you can get drunk.”
    “Then you’d better get your CPR card updated,” she joked.
    “Nah, your dad says he probably choked because he was sitting down. Next year, he says he’ll stand up…if he even eats at all.”
    They both stopped laughing.
The old man isn’t kidding
, Lindsey thought.
*
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
*
    The telephone rang again an hour later. Lindsey picked up.
    “Miss me, beautiful?” David asked.
    “It’s you!” she said, excited. “I didn’t know you could call home!”
    “It’s like getting locked up. We only get one call, and you were it.”
    “Good. Now where do I go to bail you out?”
    “I wish,” he said. “But you never answered my question. Do you miss me?”
    “Not at all,” she said, giggling.
    “Good. I don’t miss you either.”
    “I went to a race yesterday with my dad,” she told him. “A NASCAR race.”
    “How was it?” he asked.
    “Interesting,” she said, sparing him the stupid details.
He has enough to worry about
, she thought. “Jeff Groban won.”
    “Jeff Gordon or Josh Groban?” he asked, chuckling.
    “Yeah, one of them,” she joked. “They put on quite the patriotic show. You can’t believe how many people are behind you guys.”
    “That’s good to hear.” He paused. “More than you can imagine.”
    “Still bored over there?” she asked.
    “I wouldn’t call it bored…just monotonous. We’re on patrols almost every day. It’s gotten so that I’m beginning to know the locals. They even wave at us as we search through their neighborhoods.”
    “Are you being nice to them?” she asked.
    “Of course I am.”
    “Any bad guys?” she asked.
    “A bunch of them,” he said, “but thankfully, they’re on our side.”
    She laughed. “I’m glad it’s going well, David, but please be safe.”
    “I will.” He paused. “So the Sox look like they’re out of the race, huh?”
    “Yeah. Unfortunately, the math doesn’t work anymore for them to get into the playoffs.”
    “That stinks.”
    “There are worse tragedies.”
    “Very true,” he mumbled.
    “I put your care package in the mail a few days ago. I hope the postal service is kind enough to deliver it in one piece.”
    “That’s awesome. Thank you so much. Any sweets?”
    “Of course, plus a few books, some of my favorite music, a juicy love letter…”
    “A love letter?” he asked, interrupting.
    “Yup,” she said, “and you’ll have to wait to read what’s in it.”
    “That’s not fair.”
    “Well, from what I hear, life’s not fair.”
    “I thought you said that life was
better than good
.”
    “Exactly! See, now you’re getting it. It’s all about attitude, and I’d rather choose a positive one.”
    “Good attitude,” he teased.
    “I hope you like the books I sent. You like to read, right?”
    “I do. In fact, I was just thinking about all those bookshelves inside the lighthouse.”
    She giggled. “So what else do you like?”
    “I like all types of music, especially ‘The Dance’ by Garth Brooks. And I also enjoy all types of movies.”
    “Now who’s being random?” she teased. “I was hoping you would say me.”
    “You,” he said.
    She laughed. “Good.”
    “What’s your favorite song?” he asked.
    “I have lots of favorite songs, but Sarah McLachlan’s ‘Angel’is my best favoritest.”
    “Best favoritest?” he repeated.
    “Well, it is,” she said and laughed.
    There was a pause. “I hate this part as much as you, beautiful,” he said, “but I gotta go.”
    “Don’t go far,” she whispered.
    “Not where you can’t reach me,” he said. “And I’ll stay safe, okay?”
    “Above all else,” she said. “And thanks so much for calling me. It was great to hear