Chapter 19
The sea is calm. He sits on the deck, legs outstretched. There’s a woman nearby. Lying on a blue-and-white-striped cushion, half her face in shadow under the brim of her hat. She has pulled the straps of her bathing suit off her shoulders; her skin is tan, dirty-blond hair halfway down her back. The sun is hot. The kind of heat that erases what you’d rather forget.
He can’t forget.
An hour ago, he sent the message back:Say there’s no signal, you couldn’t get through.
Half an hour before that, he took the call on the radio. His brother’s voice through the static on the line. They spoke long enough for him to know there was no point in rushing home. He said something to that effect. Bobby landed on him like bricks. Jack hung up.
He needs time. A few more days before he has to go home and meet that crushing loss he knows is waiting in her face. Time to keep it at bay. The loss, the need, hers, his own. He’ll deal with it. Get through it. Soon.
The woman on the deck says his name. She asks him something. He doesn’t answer. His eyes are half-closed. The sun is a tattoo on his lids and burns.