Ten Thousand Islands (33 page)

“I can’t, man. I feel like crap. I was so wrong about Ted. I feel responsible and guilty as hell. My intuition is almost always right. I was sure he was a good man.”

“It was the drugs. I told you before all this started. They’re screwing up your judgment. You’ve cut back, right?”

He smiled, then began to chuckle; a warm, weary chuckle as if amused by himself. “Oh, sure, you bet. But I’m still drinking beer. You coming to the Cotillion?”

Through the lab’s big windows, I could see Jeth and Mack lugging a big Igloo cooler out to the docks, getting ready for the traditional Friday, end-of-the-week party.

As I held open the door for Tomlinson, I said, “I wouldn’t miss it. I told JoAnn I might actually try dancing. Who knows? Maybe I will.”

I went back into my house to find the pretty lady standing, waiting for me. Dr. Kathleen Rhodes, tall, chestnut-haired and articulate, and without football player. The two hadn’t lasted long, just as O’Rourke had said, and when Pete had told her how pitiful I’d looked in his office, she’d decided that maybe I’d learned something, after all. And she was right: I had.

She took me into her arms, holding me, then turned her face in a way so that she would be easy to kiss. But I did not. I hated what I was going to say next, but I knew if anyone was going to understand, it would be Kathleen.

Instead, I took her by the shoulders and steered her back to her chair. “Kathleen, I am flattered beyond words that you drove all this way just to surprise me. And I would
like
to get together again. But not now. Not for a while. For one thing, I have a friend who’s … who’s been sick, and I need to be here in case she calls. Plus, I had Tomlinson release all my fish before the storm hit. So now, I’ve got to restock my aquarium, and that’s going to take weeks. It’s weird, but—” I stopped, wondering if I should tell her. Then decided, what the hell, why not. “The weird thing is, I didn’t realize how attached I’d become to those animals. My bull sharks, especially the immature tarpon. They’re just fish, I know, and I’m not speaking of any great emotional investment, but still—”

The woman stood and touched her finger to my lips, silencing me. She had a nice smile on her face and gorgeous brown eyes. She was shaking her head as if perplexed but pleased, as she said, “Ford, you’ve changed. There’s something very different about you.”

“I don’t know what that would be, Kath.”

“For one thing, look at you. You’re wearing a Hawaiian shirt with a hula dancer on the back. Never in a thousand years would I expect to find you wearing something like that. That’s just not you.”

“It’s Cotillion night, big party. Plus, we’re going to ’Tween Waters, sit around the pool bar and talk to the guides. I borrowed it from Tomlinson.”

The woman stepped toward me and touched her hand to my chest. “And this. You don’t wear jewelry. Marion Ford wearing gold around his neck? You told me you despised jewelry.”

On a woven rope cord, covered by my shirt, I wore a
golden locket in the shape of a smiling full moon. I touched my hand to the pendant now, feeling its warmth; a thing to be worn occasionally as a reminder of someone.

I said, “This? It was a gift from an old friend.”