to my daughter

“The Blue Between Us”

The sun hung low over the Mediterranean, scattering gold across the endless blue. The Boston Whaler bobbed gently in the shallows near a quiet cove, far from any tourist track. Louis stood at the wheel, hands sun-worn and steady. Bettine sat cross-legged on the bow, her wind-tossed hair tangled with salt and sunlight.

They had been out since dawn, weaving between islets and rocky inlets, chasing silence and sardines.

“Why are we stopping here?” Bettine called, turning back. “We’ve got at least an hour of light left.”

Louis smiled faintly. “You see that ledge over there?” he pointed toward a reef barely breaking the surface. “I once cracked the hull of a rental boat on it. Tried to cut in too close for a shortcut.”

Bettine squinted. “Looks harmless.”

“Yeah, until it’s not.” He leaned back, eyes distant. “Just because you can’t see the danger doesn’t mean it’s not waiting under the surface.”

She rolled her eyes, grinning. “Is this one of your ‘dad-is-actually-giving-life-advice’ moments?”

Louis laughed. “Maybe. But not because I think I know better. I’ve just already screwed it up, and I’d rather you didn’t have to.”

There was a pause, filled only by the slosh of water against the hull.

Bettine’s voice softened. “So, what—experience just means knowing which rocks not to hit?”

“Pretty much,” Louis said. “And if I can point them out to you before you get there, I will. Doesn’t make me smarter. Just wetter.”

She looked out over the shimmering water, then back at him. “Alright then, Captain. What’s the plan?”

“We stay clear of the reef. Drop anchor here. And we eat that leftover bread and cheese before it walks off by itself.”

Bettine laughed and pulled the anchor loose. “Deal.”

As they settled in, the Whaler rocking gently beneath them, the Mediterranean stretched wide and calm—like a blue secret shared between a father and his daughter, full of unseen depths and quiet wisdom passed from one heart to another.

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