Family under sail 2

The Fettermans, gone with the wind

I scurried back the trail, outrunning the shiver that ran down my back and the mosquitos—into sun and beach and the Annie Lee fanning peacefully from her anchor a hundred yards away.

My fingers fumbled with Dad’s bosun’s knot tying our dinghy to a mangrove root. We’d been toasted and sent on our way, and I ached for Dinner Key Marina like Scarlett ached for Tara.

If I’d known I was living the swan song of my parents’ marriage, packing memories like a thousand sea sponges into a dock box—maybe I would have rolled my eyes less. Maybe I would have savored these twenty-one days before they were gone with the wind.



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