Others were already pulling their boats out in expectation of ice, and those men often needed help repairing their boats’ hulls, cleaning them, and repainting them. She hadn’t made any money on running yet and had to keep some cash coming in. She worked with Hicks on one of the jobs and was happy to see that he was back to his old self. He avoided eye contact with her, but beyond that his behavior was the same as before his attempt at sabotage. Calm. Warm. Accepting. Hicks seemed to have the ability to get past things, to forgive others and himself. It was as if his anger could blow away like sand; he simply couldn’t hold on to it. Or maybe it was the opposite. Maybe his blood always ran rich with emotion, only most of the time he secreted it. Frieda had noticed that many men, especially Great War veterans, were good at that. They had been through horrors they never spoke about. She also knew that the story you made up in your mind was rarely the real story. Maybe she didn’t know Hicks at all.
