Osprey Island

A head poked out from the storage closet. “Yes, ma’am,” Janna chirped.

“Why don’t you and that boyfriend of yours go to the beach this afternoon?”

“Um . . .” Janna regarded her quizzically, as if Reesa might be going a little off in the head. “Um, because I’m working . . . ? Is this a trick question?”

Reesa spoke slowly, letting out each word as she struck together a plan in her mind. “Why . . . don’t . . . you and Mister California”— Reesa had become markedly skeptical about Gavin since hearing of his dalliances with Brigid—“take the afternoon, and take Squee and Mia to the beach? Not Sand . . . take them over across the island . . . Wickham, or Scallopshell . . . Why don’t you guys do that?” She peered at Janna, waiting for an answer.

“You providing the vehicle, boss lady?”

“Ah, shit, that’s right . . . yeah, no, take the truck. That’s fine . . . I don’t need it . . . Do I? No, that’s fine.” Reesa leaned toward the counter, pawed around for her keys. “Here . . . OK, so Mia’s . . . ? Suze? Where?” Suzy pointed toward the dining room. “And Squee?”

Suzy gave a panicky shrug: Where was he? She didn’t know.

“We’ll find him,” Janna assured them.

“He might be up with Lance?” Suzy suggested.

“OK.” Janna took the keys.

“In which case, it’ll be a good thing it’s you, not me,” Suzy said.

Reesa nodded ruefully. “Oh, he likes Janna, all right.”

Janna started toward the door. “When’d you want ’em home, Suzy?”

“You keep them away as long as you can.” Suzy dug in her pocket, thrust some bills at Janna. “Go for clam rolls for dinner . . . something . . . whatever . . . You want to go off-island to a movie, great. Keep Squee out of here as long as you can.”

Janna paused by the door. She looked back at them with the first signs of her own worry. “Is everything OK?”

“Yes,” said Reesa.

“No,” said Suzy, at the exact same time.

Janna looked warily at them both. “Gotcha.” And then she turned and fled before Reesa could have a change of heart.

“What the fuck am I going to do?” Suzy said aloud.

“What’re you thinking about doing?”

Suzy waited, then said it, as if it had only just come to mind. “Leaving?”

Now was when Reesa had to pretend that Suzy didn’t say that very thing every summer she came back to Osprey. Patiently, she asked, “Would it solve anything?”

Suzy thought. “I’ve never felt scared before. I’ve been pissed as shit—I’ve been livid!—but I don’t think I’ve ever been scared. It’s always been about me, not about Mia. Not about safety.”

“What’re you scared of, you think?”

Suzy mumbled, “I don’t know.” Then she said: “My dad’s not even looking for someone to replace Lorna. He thought I’d just step right in, take over, spend the summer cleaning toilets.”

Reesa only nodded sympathetically. There was little for her to actually say. Suzy had never been willing to be a part of her family’s business, which was her right, surely, except that you also got the sense she was expecting to inherit the place someday but had no intention to lift a hand at the Lodge until that day came, when she’d probably put it up for sale.

Suzy said, “Mia wants to leave.”

“She does?”

“She’s scared.”

“Of?”

“Lance, I think. That’s what she says. I think I’d go, too . . . I think if it were just me and Mia I’d go. But now with Lorna . . . Mia’s afraid for Squee, I think. I think I am too. I don’t know how I’m going to do him any good.”

“You do,” Reesa said. “Like now . . . getting him out.”

“It’s a Band-Aid.”

“They can be useful,” Reesa said.

“I think I’ve been Band-Aiding myself,” Suzy admitted.

Reesa smiled. “That’s what I’ve heard.”

“Jesus! Really? Christ, you can’t have a conversation with someone around here without . . .”

Reesa was laughing, but not unkindly.

“I want to leave,” Suzy said. “Just leave: get Mia out of here, leave my father in the lurch—which he totally deserves—but . . . leave this thing with Roddy . . .”

“Is it a thing?” Reesa asked. “Or a Band-Aid?”