“I’m sure she was great,” I replied.
Pearl stared off for a few seconds and sighed.“I miss her.I keep wanting to go knock on her door and ask if she wants breakfast.Or complain about the boys.Or tell her about the painting I’m working on.”She shook her head.“I forget.Then I remember.”
My eyes stung.“She sounded amazing.”
“She was.”Pearl blinked hard and cleared her throat.“We’re not doing a funeral.That wasn’t her way.When all this settles, when we’re not in danger or looking over our shoulders, we’re going to do a celebration of life down by the lake.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“She was only here the few weeks it took to paint the haunted house, but I knew she liked it here.She never said it, but the only way she was going to leave was if Anchor and the club kicked her out.”
Tears burned behind my eyes.I had never met Bernice, but her being gone really hit me.“I wish I had known her,” I whispered.
Pearl reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
We sat at the table for a couple of hours just talking.Getting to know each other.Pearl insisted that even if we hadn’t both wound up at the island like we did, we still would have wound up friends.I begged to differ, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her.The homeless grocery store checker and the insanely talented painter were not a normal friendship made in heaven.
“Anchor mentioned that you have memories of being here when you were young?”
I cringed.“I mean, they are not exactly solid memories.Just flashes of… things.”
“That’s kind of crazy.When did the club take over the island?”she asked Wannabe.
Wannabe squinted.“Hell, I’m not really sure.I know Bob and Skull have been with the club for close to twenty years.Anchor has been Prez for fifteen, I think.”
I quirked my lips.“Yeah, I think what I am getting flashes of is from like twenty-three years or so ago.I know I was here because my mom always said we should stay away from Skull Island.”
“Ominous,” Pearl whispered.
“Anchor took over after the club sort of imploded with shit with the former Prez and members.I’ve only been here a few months, so I don’t really know much except for what I hear from the guys,” Wannabe explained.“From what I hear, shit was crazy.”
I nodded.I mean, crazy shit was kind of expected from a motorcycle club, right?At least that’s the vibe I got from what I had seen on TV.
Pearl’s stomach growled loudly, and she laid her hand over it.“Come on, let’s get some lunch in you before my stomach starts trying to communicate with us.”
“What are we making?”I asked.
“Sandwiches and a salad.I’m good at sandwiches.If I try anything fancier, I burn the place down.”She pointed at Wannabe.“He’ll cut the vegetables.”
Wannabe pulled out a pocket knife and saluted with it.“Yes, ma’am.”
We made lunch together, with Pearl slicing bread, me spreading mayo, and Wannabe chopping tomatoes loud enough to sound like he was murdering the cutting board.
We ate at the little table, Pearl talking lightly about Bernice and painting.
Every story made Bernice feel closer.
Every laugh made my chest hurt less.
Every glance Pearl gave me felt like someone pulled me gently out of the dark.
Halfway through her sandwich, Pearl’s expression softened again.
“When I feel like I can walk through the door,” she said, “we’ll need to go through Bernice’s cabin.Clean up.Pack her things.Decide what gets kept and what gets donated.”
My heart squeezed.“I’d like to help.”
Pearl’s smile was small and warm.“Perfect.I’ll let you know when I’m up to it.”
