“I know.”
The black water moved quietly against the pilings beneath the deck. The light gleamed singularly at the end of Paradise Neck. Some of the big pleasure boats in the harbor were lighted. People sat, mostly on the afterdeck, and drank cocktails.
They looked at their menus. They both ordered lobster salad.
“You know what my shrink told me?” Jenn said.
Jesse smiled. “No,” he said. “I don’t.”
“He said that the bond between us was truly impressive.”
“Even though we’re divorced,” Jesse said.
“Maybe more so because we’re not together.”
“So the bond has to be strong,” Jesse said.
“It’s all there is to hold us,” Jenn said.
“Maybe it shouldn’t,” Jesse said. “Maybe we should move on.”
“We should,” Jenn said.
“But we don’t,” Jesse said.
“We can’t,” Jenn said.
“But we don’t get married.”
“I can’t,” Jenn said.
“And we’re not monogamous.”
“When I think of it,” Jenn said. “You and me, till death do us part… I feel claustrophobic.”
“You and the shrink figured out why that is?”
“Not yet,” Jenn said.
Jesse looked at Jenn’s face. He knew it so well. He felt the need begin to rise like water filling a glass. He wanted a drink. Something more than cranberry juice. He felt that need rising too, and the needs became one need. He took in some air. Hang on. He took in a big breath and exhaled slowly, trying not to let it show. Jenn put her hand out and rested it on his hand.
“But we will,” she said.
“I hope so,” Jesse said.
His voice was flat with the effort of repression.
“I do too,” Jenn said.
“Maybe you and he will find a way to break the bond,” Jesse said.
“I don’t think so,” Jenn said.
“Good.”
“This is very hard,” Jenn said.
“It is.”
Jenn’s hand was still resting on his forearm.
“But we’re still here,” Jenn said softly.
“We are,” Jesse said.
Chapter Sixteen
“What makes you think she’ll show up here?” Molly said.
She sat beside Jesse in his unmarked car, parked across from an ice cream stand on the Lynn Shore Drive, above the beach.
“Lilly Summers told me the kids hang out here.”
“The principal?”
“Un-huh.”
“Did she also tell you that school records show Billie Bishop’s parents to be Henry and Sandra Bishop?”
“Actually,” Jesse grinned at Molly, “she told you that when you called her.”
“Nice to be remembered,” Molly said. “So why don’t you just confront them with the record?”
“I thought I might learn more by talking to the kid first,” Jesse said, “before everybody shuts down because they’re scared or mad or defensive or whatever they’ll get.”
“You only saw her that one time,” Molly said. “You sure you’ll recognize her?”
Jesse smiled.
