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How did she want to live? Did she want a big house in the suburbs? Or did she prefer a simpler life?
Was she wealthy? She was educated; he got that from their conversation on the boat the night before. How much money did medical sales make?
“Do you want something to drink?”
“I’ll take a beer if you have it.”
“Sit down. This will be our table,” she said, moving toward the buffet table.
While he waited for her to return, he quickly got out his phone and searched income medical sales, having a hot flash of epic proportions when the results popped up. Even the low end was more than he made.
How did he fit in with this group? He hated small talk with a passion.
“Here you go,” she said. “I hope you’re hungry because I waited to eat with you, and the food looks amazing.”
“I’m hungry,” he said, lying.
Following her to the buffet table, he looked around, seeing more than a couple of veterinarians, shop owners, a cop or two, a lot of professionals. Then he saw Gus with his veterinarian wife, and a wave of relief passed over him. Finally, the dockmaster, someone who was about as simple as he was. And this guy had an educated wife.
“As you can see, there are lots of choices.”
“I’ll have whatever you cooked.”
“Crab cakes,” she said. “Inspired by yours last night.”
“Definitely crab cakes, then.”
He took a little more food, just to be polite. Spotting the band equipment and instruments in the corner and the dance floor gave him hope.
“Ah! We can dance,” he said.
“I’m not very good at it,” Katrina replied, giggling. “But I’ll do my best.”
She nodded outside the tent. “We can sit on the porch away from the crowds if you’d like.”
“That would be great.”
Just as they sat down, Justin and Maggie came up on the porch with plates.
“Can we join you?” Maggie asked. “The noise level is awful in there. My aunt and my mother had too much to drink already, obviously. Even the horses left. My big concern is that they won’t come back.”
“As long as you feed them, they’ll come back eventually,” Justin said.
“Justin, this is Alphé,” Katrina said, laughing at Maggie’s horse observation.
Justin nodded. “I remember you when we were teenagers.”
“I’m older than you are,” Alphé said, smiling. “And I went to Saint Joe’s.”
“Maybe that’s where; football?”
“Nope, no sports. I worked on my dad’s fishing boat after school. But you might remember my brother, Rodney. He was a runner.”
“Sure! I remember Rodney. Didn’t the Knights of Columbus sponsor him all through high school?”
“They did. Bought his running shoes. Would have paid for his college, too, but he wanted to fish. My dad was so proud of him.”
It hit Justin around that time.Rodney Beaumont, former star track and field athlete at Saint Joseph Padua, Cypress Cove, killed in a tragic commercial fishing accident.
