Page 9 of Homecoming

“The act of running for fun baffles me.”

“You don’t need to run when you do the work of ten men on any given day. I push pencils for a living.”

“Good point. Listen… I appreciate what you’re doing here, how you came running when Judith called, but I want you to know… If you feel like it’s going to be too much for you—or particularly for Kara—take a pass on the whole mess and go back to your happy place on Gansett.”

“That wouldn’t win me any favor with my in-laws.”

“Screw them. You don’t owe them anything. The only one you need to be thinking about is Kara.”

“I’m always thinking about her, and trust me, if this gets to be too much for her, we’re out of here.”

Bertha nodded. “That’s good. She’s worked so hard to make a life for herself away from this place. I won’t see her dragged back to where she was when she left.”

“I’d never let that happen.”

“I know you won’t.” Her sweet smile took years off her lined face. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m quite fond of you. I couldn’t have chosen a more perfect husband for my girl.”

Moved, Dan went to her.

She met him halfway in a hug that surrounded him in a scent that reminded him of his grandmother.

“My Nana has been gone a long time. It’s nice to have a grandmother again.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.”

When they pulled back from each other, he said, “Try not to worry. I know it’s deeply upsetting to have your grandsons facing serious charges, but I’ll do everything I can for them.”

“Keith can be an asshole.”

“I know. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting him before. Ironically, I got him out of jail on Gansett.”

“What?”

“Several of them got arrested after a bar fight the night before our wedding, in the island’s biggest dive. Kara doesn’t knowthat. I bailed out him, Kyle and Kieran with a warning about what I’d do to them if they ruined her big day.”

Bertha shook her head and then went to pour herself a coffee. “I blame my daughter for them turning into hooligans. She was off getting massages when her kids were running wild. I tried to warn her years ago that she’d be sorry for letting them go unsupervised, but I never could tell her anything. She’s known everything from the minute she could talk. Chuck wasn’t much better, but at least he had an excuse. The man works like a dog. Always has. I suspect his work ethic had as much to with avoiding his family as with building his business.”

“This is all helpful information. Keep it coming.”

“Go have your run. I’ll leave some breakfast for you and Kara before Buster and I leave for work.”

“You work on Sundays?”

“Seven days a week this time of year. It’s prime lobster season.”

“Ah, I see. Don’t worry about cooking for us. We can take care of ourselves.”

“Not in my house.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, grinning as he left with a wave.

Dan took off running down Bertha’s street, which lined the water’s edge where seagulls foraged for breakfast and a hint of fog clung to the surface of the placid cove. A dozen lobster boats were anchored amid skiffs, small motorboats and a few sailboats.

The houses in Bertha’s neighborhood were mostly like hers, built in the ’50s or ’60s and beaten up by the elements of coastal living. Most had lobster traps stacked in the yard or driveway and several had boats on trailers. Some yards boasted well-tended gardens and rosebushes, while others featured old appliances and other junk that should’ve been carted away years ago.

He did a three-mile loop, enjoying the sights and scents. A group of busy seagulls entertained him with their morning antics, diving for fish and crabs and anything else they could scrounge from the shallow water.

It wasn’t even seven o’clock when he returned to Bertha’s, sweating profusely and ready for some water and then coffee to jumpstart his day.

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