And All the Phases of the Moon by Judy Reene Singer

Author:Judy Reene Singer [Singer, Judy Reene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-03-09T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

The moon, once full of arrogance and light, was slowly quitting us, retreating into its waning gibbous phase, slowly returning the night sky to its feral state. Once again we could sit on the pier anonymously in the semidarkness, Vincent and I, tucked together to get through the ending of the day.

My arm was around him and we were listening to the barks and yips of the seals as they swam in the bay, sliding in on the high tide to sleep on the beach. Some of them had learned to climb onto the boats, sleeping one next to the other, laid out like logs, their collective weight putting the boats in peril of sinking. Boats that were moored well sat obediently, safely resting within their fenders made from used tires, tugging gently against their lines and rocking back and forth on the waves. Boats that had been neglected and badly secured bumped and poked their neighbors, banging and thumping against one another like restless children. Sam didn’t come this night and that was all right with me. Vincent and I went home to bed.

Later, I peeked out my bedroom window and there was the familiar blanket-bound figure on the pier. It comforted me more than I wanted to admit. He was there; he was out there. What could happen to me if he was out there to watch over me, he and his proud, powerful tattoo? I wanted this from him, and I wanted to give him the same comfort, but I was worried about our friendship accelerating only because we were both too vulnerable. We had become companions, but like the loosely moored boats we were bumping against each other, trying to find our places.

* * *

The next morning opened with a blaze of sun that glittered across the bay, a million sequins riding the tide out. I opened the Galley alone; Shay needed to sleep in. She hadn’t been feeling well the past two weeks. Every so often, she would grab the folding chair we kept behind the counter and sit down. Sometimes her face would pale and she would rub her stomach.

“What’s wrong?” I would immediately be at her side. “Maybe you should go home. Let me call Terrell so you can go to the doctor.”

She was adamant about staying and insisted she was just fine. And then, whatever it was would dissipate, and she rallied, but I always kept a watchful eye on her. She and Terrell had been waiting for her eighteenth-week mark to find out what the gender was.

She came in today while the impatient and hungry breakfast crowd was at its peak. I was scurrying from counter to deli case to the grill, helping everyone at once, when she suddenly appeared.

“Looks like you need me,” she said, poking her head through the top of an apron and then tying the sash into a big bow behind her back.

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” I cautioned, packing an order of five sandwiches into a cardboard box and adding containers of salad around them.

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