to the topic. “And
those jeans cost over two hundred dollars new!”
Birdie winced at the awful thought, then smiled up at him. “You look splendid, Tommy
dear.”
Tommy immediately changed the subject, explaining in great detail how they’d just
repainted the jail a pale pink to calm prisoners down.
While the rest of the table engaged in a discussion of “drunk tank pink,” Janie stood
quietly looking off toward the water, her mind clearly elsewhere.
Nell watched her, searching for remnants of the distress that they’d witnessed earlier
that day. Slight worry lines remained on her forehead, but the anger seemed to have
faded.
“You look lovely, Janie,” Nell said softly.
“Thanks, Nell,” Janie said. “I know what you’re asking, though, and I’m fine. Really
I am. But terribly sorry about my outburst today. I hate it that our sweet little
Gabby saw me at my worst.”
“Oh, nonsense. Did Justin come back?”
“No. I guess he got the message. Sometimes I think he is truly confused when I get
upset with him, like he doesn’t get why. And then he assumes everything is fine. That’s
probably how he is this very minute, happy as a clam, thinking all is forgiven. Do
you think it’s because he had such a bad upbringing? He never even knew his dad. And
his mother was a mess, ending up in jail a couple of times.”
“That’s a difficult way to grow up.”
“It must have been awful. I took a psychology course in nursing school, and he’s like
one of those people who has had to fend for himself for everything, and he needs instant
gratification. It’s so strong in him that he does what makes him feel good right then
and there because he might not get a second chance. He doesn’t ever think about consequences.
He just wants to have fun and be rich—fast.”
Janie seemed to warm to the subject, clearly articulating thoughts that had been filling
her head.
“Like the texts he sent me after he left today. They weren’t about how he’s going
to clean up his act or find a place to stay or hold on to a job and earn his riches.
Instead, he texted about how great it is that he’s going on the scuba dive tomorrow
and might get his picture in a big-time magazine, and isn’t that cool? And then he
added that maybe he’d take me to Duckworth’s in Gloucester to celebrate.”
“Celebrate?”
“I know, I know. Celebrate what!”
She shook her head, then looked at Tommy to be sure he wasn’t listening. “I don’t
think I have a single friend left in Sea Harbor who Justin hasn’t let down. And now
this latest thing at the boardinghouse. And the thing is . . . the thing is, he doesn’t
even care. He says he was going to leave there anyway. He’s got his eye on those new
expensive
condos on the north shore—”
Janie stopped, her eyes widening as she looked across the porch to the outdoor lounge
area. Nell sat tall and followed her look.
Justin Dorsey stood alone at the very end of the long bar. He was motioning to Tyler
Gibson, standing a few feet away, pouring drinks and shaking martinis.
“But he’s not even twenty-one . . . ,” Janie started.
Tyler handed the drinks off to a waitress and moved toward Justin, a swatch of blond
hair falling across his forehead.
Justin high-fived him and pulled up a stool, his manner businesslike, as if delivering
some news. Tyler listened carefully, nodded, ignoring the waitress waiting with drink
orders. Every now and then he looked up, as if protecting the conversation from bystanders’
ears. When Justin tugged something from the fanny belt strapped around his waist and
placed it on the bar between them, Tyler stood back, staring, a surprised grin on
his face. Then he slapped Justin on the shoulder as if in congratulations.
“Maybe Justin is looking for a place to stay tonight,” Janie said, a touch of regret
slipping into her voice.
“Maybe,” Nell said. She watched Tyler
those jeans cost over two hundred dollars new!”
Birdie winced at the awful thought, then smiled up at him. “You look splendid, Tommy
dear.”
Tommy immediately changed the subject, explaining in great detail how they’d just
repainted the jail a pale pink to calm prisoners down.
While the rest of the table engaged in a discussion of “drunk tank pink,” Janie stood
quietly looking off toward the water, her mind clearly elsewhere.
Nell watched her, searching for remnants of the distress that they’d witnessed earlier
that day. Slight worry lines remained on her forehead, but the anger seemed to have
faded.
“You look lovely, Janie,” Nell said softly.
“Thanks, Nell,” Janie said. “I know what you’re asking, though, and I’m fine. Really
I am. But terribly sorry about my outburst today. I hate it that our sweet little
Gabby saw me at my worst.”
“Oh, nonsense. Did Justin come back?”
“No. I guess he got the message. Sometimes I think he is truly confused when I get
upset with him, like he doesn’t get why. And then he assumes everything is fine. That’s
probably how he is this very minute, happy as a clam, thinking all is forgiven. Do
you think it’s because he had such a bad upbringing? He never even knew his dad. And
his mother was a mess, ending up in jail a couple of times.”
“That’s a difficult way to grow up.”
“It must have been awful. I took a psychology course in nursing school, and he’s like
one of those people who has had to fend for himself for everything, and he needs instant
gratification. It’s so strong in him that he does what makes him feel good right then
and there because he might not get a second chance. He doesn’t ever think about consequences.
He just wants to have fun and be rich—fast.”
Janie seemed to warm to the subject, clearly articulating thoughts that had been filling
her head.
“Like the texts he sent me after he left today. They weren’t about how he’s going
to clean up his act or find a place to stay or hold on to a job and earn his riches.
Instead, he texted about how great it is that he’s going on the scuba dive tomorrow
and might get his picture in a big-time magazine, and isn’t that cool? And then he
added that maybe he’d take me to Duckworth’s in Gloucester to celebrate.”
“Celebrate?”
“I know, I know. Celebrate what!”
She shook her head, then looked at Tommy to be sure he wasn’t listening. “I don’t
think I have a single friend left in Sea Harbor who Justin hasn’t let down. And now
this latest thing at the boardinghouse. And the thing is . . . the thing is, he doesn’t
even care. He says he was going to leave there anyway. He’s got his eye on those new
expensive
condos on the north shore—”
Janie stopped, her eyes widening as she looked across the porch to the outdoor lounge
area. Nell sat tall and followed her look.
Justin Dorsey stood alone at the very end of the long bar. He was motioning to Tyler
Gibson, standing a few feet away, pouring drinks and shaking martinis.
“But he’s not even twenty-one . . . ,” Janie started.
Tyler handed the drinks off to a waitress and moved toward Justin, a swatch of blond
hair falling across his forehead.
Justin high-fived him and pulled up a stool, his manner businesslike, as if delivering
some news. Tyler listened carefully, nodded, ignoring the waitress waiting with drink
orders. Every now and then he looked up, as if protecting the conversation from bystanders’
ears. When Justin tugged something from the fanny belt strapped around his waist and
placed it on the bar between them, Tyler stood back, staring, a surprised grin on
his face. Then he slapped Justin on the shoulder as if in congratulations.
“Maybe Justin is looking for a place to stay tonight,” Janie said, a touch of regret
slipping into her voice.
“Maybe,” Nell said. She watched Tyler
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