Page 66 of On Fire Island

Shep interrupted, “Forget about it. Nothing happened.”

“Yes, well, OK, but regardless, we want you to come by tomorrow night for a big steak dinner... to thank you,” Pam offered.

Two monarch butterflies on their yearly migration appeared, dancing in between them as they spoke. September was indeed just around the corner.

“Sure, we could use some meat and potatoes. Can I bring Ben and the kid?” Shep asked.

“Yes, yes. Of course.”

Andie looked around. “You still staying over here, Shep?”

“Yeah, why? You think it’s strange?”

“No—maybe.”

“Get the WD-40 from the shed,” Shep instructed Matty.

Andie took the handlebars from him.

“Let me ask you something,” Shep expounded. “You ever have a guy stop you and ask you for directions?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And sometimes, if the directions are hard to explain, you ever just say to the guy, ‘Follow me and I’ll show you the way’?”

“Yeah, I’ve done that.”

“Same thing here.”

She smiled and nodded in understanding as Matty returned with the WD-40.

“On second thought—we have to take a rain check. My daughter Bea is coming for Labor Day weekend.”

“She is?” Matty asked, surprised.

“Yup. Soon as I call her and tell her to.”

thirty-six

Beatrix

Beatrix Silver arrived on the 7:00 a.m. boat and was in our kitchen making her mother’s famous frittata before the boys even woke. As I watched her wipe down the counter like a pro, I felt a sense of relief—as sexist as it may sound; I was happy to have a live woman in the house. I was sure she would at least use plates and maybe, after she scrubbed the counters clean, locate the source of the rancid stench that had all three sniffing, then grimacing, whenever they entered the house. I was not surprised. I had seen each of these guys reach under their beds and put on a pair of dirty socks on more than one occasion.

The smell of the frittata overrode all, and it was clear from their faces as they descended from the bedrooms that the residents of our former Love Shack were happy to have a live woman around as well. Shep wrapped his eldest daughter in his arms, stepped back to inspect her, as parents do, and then wrapped her up again.

After breakfast, the two of them took a long walk on the beach.

“Do you think he’ll go home now?” Matty asked after they left.

Ben laughed. “I guess.”

Matty’s face held an odd expression, and Ben read it as concern.

“Don’t worry, you’re still welcome to stay.”

“Thanks. I’m worried about more than that. School starts next week, and it doesn’t seem like the barefoot drummer is hitting the road anytime soon.”

“Still no shoes?”

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