gone a little too far in that household. I got up and started doing my Peg-leg Pete imitation, a lopsided pacing that only seemed to further irritate me.
Before long, Frank came back in and watched me thumping around. “Irene, that can’t be good for your ankle.”
I wanted to say, “Forgive me, Frank, I’ve been a jerk.” What I did say was, “Leave me alone.”
“I came in to apologize,” he said, ignoring my snottiness. “Never mind about Thanksgiving. Maybe we can just spend it here together.”
I stopped pacing and scowled. “You’re being too reasonable.”
He started laughing, and despite my efforts to the contrary, I found my scowl lifting into a grin.
“You’re being impossible and you know it,” he said.
“Yes, I am,” I sighed, and eased myself down on to the couch. “I’m going crazy, Frank.”
He sat next to me. “I know. What can we do about it?”
“I don’t know.” I was out and out glum.
Just then there was a familiar pattern of knocks on the front door. We both recognized it and Frank called out, “Come on in, Jack.”
Jack took one look at us and said, “You’ve just had a fight, haven’t you?”
Frank and I exchanged a look that was a mixture of surprise and shame.
“I knew it. Okay, that does it. I’ve been meaning to suggest this for a couple of days. Frank, have you got a pair of warm sweatpants that will fit over Irene’s cast?”
I frowned, but Frank was answering, “Yes, I think so.”
“Good. We’re going sailing.”
“What?” I yelped.
“We’re going sailing. You know, a boat, the ocean, and a little breeze?”
“Forget it, Jack,” I said. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
I hesitated. “I just can’t.”
“You mean you won’t do it,” Jack said evenly.
“Okay, I won’t.”
“Not an acceptable answer. I’ll be back in an hour. Be ready. I’ve got a big sweater that will fit over that harness you’re in.”
And with that set of directives, he left. Frank, damn him, was grinning.
“You aren’t seriously thinking of doing this, are you?”
“Yes.”
“Frank, he’s crazy.”
“No, he’s making more sense than we have lately.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“You love the ocean. Don’t you miss seeing it?”
“Yes, but—”
“What would O’Connor tell you to do?” he asked.
“You fight dirty, you know that?” I said, then sighed. “I give in. I can’t take on you and Jack and Cody all in the same afternoon.”
“Cody?”
“Never mind. Let’s get ready.”
Frank went into motion. Seeing his enthusiasm, I felt a little twinge of guilt at the thought that this very active man had been cooped up in the house with me whenever he wasn’t at work or accompanying me to the doctor’s office. I decided that for Frank’s sake, if not my own, I needed to go along with Jack’s plan.
JACK RETURNED with a sweater large enough to get on me without jarring my shoulder. Frank put a stocking cap on my head for warmth.
“Let’s go!” Jack said.
Outside, we were waved to by a couple of neighbors and got a wide-eyed look from a cable-TV installer; otherwise no one was out on the street, so this venture out of the house wasn’t too bad. We drove down to the marina; we were in our by-now standard arrangement of Jack driving while Frank sat in the backseat, next to me. Frank kept hold of my hand, but this time, I wasn’t clenching it in fear. I traced my fingers over his, enjoying the feel of his hand, his closeness.
Above the rows of masts in the marina, the sky was a soft, cloudy gray. I was grateful for the sweater. There were people out and about, but the weather wasn’t warm enough to draw a big crowd. We stopped at a sharp- looking Catalina 36. Jack told us the boat had been his mother’s; he had lived aboard it when he first came back to Las Piernas. It was named the
“More Greek mythology?” I asked.
