She hadn’t even made it to the water, and her skin was already damp from the humidity. Once her feet hit the cool sand, she breathed easier. She lifted her arms in the air, feeling free all alone out there.
She and Tug had been through a lot over the years with him being Jarvis’s closest friend, the best man at their wedding. Her closest friend too. She’d now spent more years with Tug than with Jarvis.
Tug had never married. His high school sweetheart, Willa, had begged him to marry her, but he never did make an honest woman of her.
Maeve never had liked Willa. She was a constant complainer, and that didn’t sit well with her.
When one of Tug’s customers kicked the bucket, they’d left Tug their African gray. As soon as Tug learned there was at least another thirty years in that bird’s minimum expected life span, he’d decided to jokingly rename her The Wife.
When Willa heard about that name, she didn’t see the humor in it.
The Wife didn’t make a secret of what she thought about Willa, either, and to this day Tug swore he had nothing to do with it. But Maeve could picture Tug sitting in front of the bird with a picture of Willa, training it to respond, and she rather enjoyed the image.
Whenever Willa showed up at the diner, The Wife would say, “Time to go” or “You’re not gone yet?” or Maeve’s favorite, “I’m Tug’s wife for life.”
Maeve had seen Willa pitch a fit over that more than once. She didn’t come around much anymore. She finally realized Tug wasn’t going to marry her and had taken up with a man from up north.
Tug loved that crazy bird. He was known for threatening to leave her to anyone who gave him a hard time. “She’ll outlive me, and I’m going to bequeath her to you.” Truth was, he’d spent weeks working with a lawyer to come up with a plan for what to do with The Wife if something should happen to him.
Maeve climbed the access stairs from the beach to the restaurant. It was warm enough that Tug could leave The Wife out here on the gazebo all summer, and this morning was no exception. She sat in the corner of her tall cage, preening her bright-red tail feathers.
“Good morning. How’s The Wife today?” Maeve asked as she slipped on her sandals.
The bird flapped her wide wings and bowed her head. “I’m good, good, good, good, good. Rise and shine!”
“You’re always such a pleasure in the morning.”
The African gray perked up, bobbing her head high and low. “Good morning. Love you.”
“I love you too.” Maeve opened the cabinet under the cage and grabbed a couple of bird treats. She pinched one between her fingers and poked it through the frame.
The Wife took the cracker from her. “Mmm, mmm, good. Breakfast time.”
“Or at least coffee,” Maeve said.
“One sugar, one cream.” The Wife followed the order with a series of five clicks, sounding quite pleased with herself that she’d remembered.
“You always remember.”
The bird bobbed her head up and down again and then turned her back to Maeve and stretched, displaying her pretty tail feathers.
“You’re such a show-off.” Maeve shook her finger at the bird.
“You love me.”
“That I do.” Maeve reached through the cage, and the bird bent her head forward so Maeve could give her a little scratch. Too bad Methuselah couldn’t speak. It’d be nice to have two-way conversation with him, even if sometimes it didn’t make sense.
The smell of fresh coffee lured Maeve inside.
“Thought I heard The Wife up and at it,” Tug said. “What are you doing here so early?”
“I don’t know. Couldn’t sleep.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. You know how sometimes a thought is right there at the front of your mind?” She took a stool at the counter. “Like you’re forgetting something, or there’s something you should take care of? I have no idea what it is.”
“I hate that.” He grabbed a coffeepot and filled a heavy white mug for her. “You’re always welcome here before business hours. Glad you came.”
“Thanks.” She added one sugar to her coffee, and Tug topped off his.
“Gonna be a hot one today.”
Idle chitchat never did sit well with her. “It’s summer. What do you expect?”
“What do I expect?” Tug took a slug of coffee. His cup rattled on the counter when he set it down. “Customers, tourists with sunburns, random thunderstorms to cool things down, and lots of fresh fish. The wahoos are running big-time.”
“You know I love what you can do to a fish. I might have to come for dinner one night this week.”
“I’ll save you the best seat in the house.”
“Sounds good.” She lifted her gaze to the water beyond the bank of windows. The sun was beginning to poke the tippity top of its bright-orange rim over the horizon. “So, what’s the latest?”
He leaned his large forearms on the counter. There’d been a time when he had muscles like Popeye. Now they weren’t sculpted, but they were still big. “Well, rumor has it down at the campground there was a group of naked campers. A whole club of ’em.” Tug shook his head. “Now why on earth would anyone want to run around with the sand fleas and prickly briars in their nothings? That’s just a recipe for disaster.”
“Beats me. Did the police arrest them?”
Tug shook his head. “Gave ’em a warning. I heard they packed up and left, asked for a full refund. Nobody told them they had to leave, just had to put on some pants. I wouldn’t refund them, but you know how McDuffy runs his campground. He’s a softy.”
“My goodness. How do you even talk with people like that? I think I’d have given them their money back to avoid the awkward conversation. Good riddance.”
Tug snickered. “I heard they were all senior citizens too. Must have been a sight.”
“I guess.” She drank the last of her coffee, and Tug poured her another.
“How about
