He took up a position on the rocks, close to where Louise was darting back and forth, trying to find the best angle for taking pictures. Collars of dark brown seaweed floated like wet leather in the water, rising and falling on the gentle swells. With the boat already all but floating, Wally got out of the truck and walked over to the passenger’s door, where he made a great show of helping the flesh and blood Abby Rose down to the ground. The cement launch ramp was pitched at a steep angle, and she was a little unsteady on her feet. Ben attributed it to nerves, what with her mother hovering at the shoreline, saying over and over at high volume how “goddamned proud” she was of her daughter. Wally folded his arms across his chest and waited until conversation died to a murmur. He was used to commanding attention. “I wanna thank you all for coming by today,” he said, his voice loud and confident. Wally smiled as he surveyed the crowd like they were adoring subjects, come to honor the king.
