Page 20 of Harbor Lights

“Thanks.” Shiv paused from shoveling pasta. “Unless your ex comes to stay?”

“Yeah, that happens less and less. They have a grandchild now and are keener on me going to visit.” She rolled her eyes, remembering Shiv’s comment on their first meeting. “I’m pathetic, aren’t I?”

“No, I’m sure they’re very lucky to have you as a friend.” Shiv blinked. “What I said the other day. About lesbians. I didn’t mean it as an insult. I’m queer, too. I just meant it’s that stereotypical thing where we end up being best friends.” She picked up her fork. “Or sworn enemies.”

Con watched her eat for a moment. “I guessed you were gay. The mullet and the toolbelt were kind of a giveaway.”

Shiv grinned. “I prefer queer.”

“And which was it for you? Best friends or enemies?”

Shiv glanced up. “Oh, I’ve never really got to that point. I haven’t lived the kind of life that had space for relationships.”

“In what way?” She was so curious about Shiv’s background, but she didn’t want to spook her. For someone who was always digging for information, it was difficult to keep her questions casual.

“I traveled a lot.”

“As an electrician?”

Shiv finished the last forkful and gathered the plates.

“I’ll clear up. Just tell me a little about yourself.” Con glanced at the clock. “We’ve got half an hour until the ferry. I’ll make you coffee if you tell me about your life.”

Shiv frowned.

“Just the details you want to share.” She stood and took the plates to the sink, giving Shiv some space.

“I’m an activist. I have been all my life.”

Con turned. “What sort of activism?”

“My mom was all about pacifism and we lived in peace camps all over the US. But when I went my own way, I focused on LGBTQ+ and women’s rights.”

“God knows there’s enough to be active about there.”

“Yeah, more recently it’s been about fighting the far right. People don’t seem to recognize the danger.” Her voice was tight.

Con put the plates to soak and set the coffee machine going, wondering if Shiv would expand.

“But the more you dig, the worse it gets. I made life difficult for some people and then I lost my anonymity, and they wanted me to suffer.”

Con wondered if Shiv meant her prison sentence, or was it the reason she was so far from home now?

She placed the mugs on the table and pushed the sugar jar toward Shiv, who took out two lumps and stirred them into her coffee, looking thoughtful.

“Have you always been called Doc?”

The change of subject was a jolt, but she went with it. “Haha, only since I’ve been a doctor.”

In the silence that followed, Con decided to say what she was thinking. “And mostly by the community here. They define me by my profession.”

Shiv scratched the side of her head. “And you don’t like that?”

“I love my job. It’s my vocation in life, but I’m a lot more than a doctor. I don’t think that nickname helps people see that.” She shrugged and nodded at the coffee. “You need to drink that quickly and get down the hill.”

Shiv checked her watch. “I’ve got fifteen minutes. So, what’s your name?”

Con laughed to hide the flustered feeling that rose at the way Shiv asked. God, she was intense. “Constance. Constance Brigid Scott. It’s on the name plate by the door for everyone to see.” She rubbed her knuckles. “Although the brass could probably do with a polish.”

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