“Oh no,” I whispered, not liking the sound of that at all.

He muttered, “Yep. I can pick ‘em,” and took another sip of coffee.

I took one too thinking, poor Ethan.

And poor Amber.

“Yo! Jake! Food’s up!” I heard yelled through the wind and I looked back at The Shack to see two Styrofoam containers sitting on the ledge outside the window but Tom was still hidden in the murky shadows of the diminutive ramshackle structure.

“Be back,” Jake said, got up and went to get our food.

He came back and set mine in front of me. This included a see-through plastic wrapped parcel that held a napkin and plastic cutlery.

“Crab, cream cheese and green onion omelet,” Jake declared.

I couldn’t believe it but that actually sounded delicious.

Tentatively, I opened the container.

It looked delicious too and the aroma wafting up smelled divine.

I set my coffee aside, grabbed my plastic wrapped parcel and asked, “How long were you together with Conner and Amber’s mom?’

“Seven years,” he answered. “She lives local and I wish she’d move to Raleigh too.” He paused then finished on a mutter, “Or maybe Bangladesh.”

I turned my eyes to him and smiled at his joke.

Then I looked back down to my omelet and thus missed his eyes changing before they dropped to my mouth.

“You, um…said that Amber charges money to look after Ethan and that Gran would watch him after school.” I forked into my omelet and brought it to my mouth as I looked back at him. “While I’m in Magdalene, I can help out if you need someone to watch him.”

“Brings us full circle, Slick,” he stated and before I could get into the “Slick” business, he continued, “You thought more on your plans?”

Actually, I had, over a glass of wine consumed staring at the dark sea from the window seat of the light room last night.

Therefore, I shared them with him.

“I think I’ve decided to stay for a bit. Take a kind of sabbatical. I can do a lot of what I do for Henry from here, given a phone and Internet, the second Gran doesn’t have but it’s easy enough to get access. So I won’t get bored. But after losing Gran, I’d like to feel”—I searched for a word and found it—“settled for a while.”

I took my bite and he was right. It didn’t knock me on my behind but it was shockingly delicious. It wasn’t just crab, cream cheese and green onion. There was a subtle hint of garlic as well, the pepper was clearly freshly ground and the crab was succulent.

Superb.

“That’s a good idea, Josie.” I heard Jake say and I lifted my eyes to him to see him studying me intently. “Slow down a bit. Deal with Lydie passin’.” He grinned. “Hang with us, people who loved her like you did.”

After years of a jets-set lifestyle that was interesting and fulfilling, that still sounded marvelous.

That said, there were things to discuss, things to know.

And I set about doing that.

I dug back into my omelet and said before taking another bite, “I’d like to understand that better, Jake.”

“Understand what better?”

I chewed, swallowed and looked to him again. “How you came to know Gran so well.”

“We don’t got the time to get into that before you gotta be at the Weavers.”

That sounded like a stall tactic and I opened my mouth but he lifted a hand.

“Tell you it all, honey. All of it. But seriously, it might not be a long story but it might bring up questions and I’d like to have the time and focus to answer them.”

That was thoughtful, nice and I had a feeling he was right. I would have a lot of questions and I’d like him to have the time and focus to answer them. So I nodded and took another bite.

“Owe you dinner, take you out, give it all to you.” I heard him say as I munched.

I swallowed and looked to him. “That sounds doable.”

He grinned.

My phone in my purse rang.

I let it and continued eating.

It kept ringing.

“You gonna get that?”

I looked back to Jake and answered, “No. It’s rude to answer the phone during a meal or in someone’s company.”

He grinned again and said, “Babe, don’t mind and we’re not at a meal. We’re at The Shack.”

I wasn’t certain about the distinction but our conversation turned moot when my phone stopped ringing.

I took another bite of omelet.

My phone started ringing again.

I felt my brows draw together.

“Babe, get it. Like I said, don’t mind and someone obviously wants you,” Jake urged.

I nodded, set aside my cutlery that was so light I was worried the breeze would sweep it away (so I tucked it as best I could under what remained of my omelet) and reached to my purse.

I got my phone and the display informed me the caller was Henry.

I looked to Jake and said, “My apologies, Jake. It’s Henry. Something might be wrong.”

His face changed minutely, going slightly blank but more noncommittal and he jerked up his chin in what I was deducing was his telling me I should take the call.

I took it and put the phone to my ear, greeting, “Henry.”

“What the fuck?”

I blinked at the table because Henry had never said this to me, nor had he ever spoken in that tone. Or at least, with the last, not to me.

“I…pardon?” I asked.

“What the fuck, Josephine?”

What on earth?

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammered. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes, something’s wrong. You haven’t called in two days.”

Oh dear. I actually hadn’t.

“Henry—”

“Worried about you Josephine. Told you to keep in touch, check in, let me know you’re all right.”

“You were traveling to Rome yesterday,” I reminded him.

“Yes, and that flight’s long but it doesn’t take a year. And you know my schedule, Josephine. You know when I left, you know when I landed, and you know when I turn my phone off and on for a flight.”

I did. He waited until the last second to turn it off and he turned it on the instant he could when we’d land.

“I’m sorry, Henry. Things have been somewhat…strange here.”

“Strange how?” he asked immediately.

I sat back and trained my eyes to my lap. “Strange in a variety of ways. None of which I can get into right now because I’m at breakfast with Jake and then I have to go over to the Weavers. But I’ll call you later and explain.”

“Jake?”

“Yes. Jake.”

“Who’s Jake?”

“A friend of Gran’s.”

“Have I met him?”

Henry had been to Magdalene with me frequently and met a number of Gran’s friends and acquaintances.

But I was relatively certain he had not met Jake.

“I don’t think so,” I answered.

“He one of her bridge cronies?”

The thought of Jake playing bridge with Gran’s cronies, none of whom was under seventy years of age, made me smile at my lap.

“No.”

“Then who is he, Josephine?”

I vaguely wondered why he was so determined to know.

I didn’t ask that.

I said, “It’s a long story, Henry, and I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to tell it to you right now. I’m sitting outside on the wharf and my omelet is getting cold. It’s delicious and I’d like to enjoy it while it’s warm. Not to mention, Jake’s sitting right here and it’s rude to chat on the phone when I’m in company.”

This was met with silence and this lasted quite some time.

“Henry? Have I lost you?” I called into the silence.

“No, you haven’t lost me,” he answered. “You’re on the wharf eating an omelet?”

“A rather delicious one,” I shared.

He said nothing.

“Henry?” I called.

“Phone me when you get a chance,” he ordered oddly tersely. “I don’t care how late it is here. Just call. I’m concerned. You’re coping with a great deal and you’re on your own.”

That was proof Jake was wrong. Henry was irate because he was concerned about me. Yes, he was my employer, but he also cared.

However, Henry was wrong too. I wasn’t on my own.

Jake was with me.

This caused that warmth to return even if all around me was cold but I ignored that and assured Henry, “I’ll phone.”

“And I’m telling Daniel to cancel Paris.”

I blinked at my lap then looked up to the boats bobbing along the wharf. “You can’t do that.”

“I can, Josephine, and I’m going to.”

“But, it’s a video shoot that took months to set up,” I reminded him.

“They’ll have to find another director,” he told me.

“Dee-Amond only works with you,” I continued recounting things he knew.

And Dee-Amond did only work with Henry and had only worked with Henry for the last seventeen years.

He was a renowned hip-hop artist who’d started his own fashion line, which was remarkable and thus quite successful. Henry did all his work on Amond’s music videos and his fashion shoots.

Amond was also a very handsome, though somewhat frightening black man, who had, in his early days, beat a number of what he called “raps,” the charges being rather violent.

He’d since settled and he could be very charming. This was why I spent a particularly enjoyable night with him after a party that we attended after the VMAs seven years prior. After that, he’d asked me to join his “posse” but I’d refused, with some hesitation (this was because he was very charming, and as I’d mentioned, also very handsome and our night had been just that enjoyable).

But I could never leave Henry.

Then again, there was also the small fact I was not a woman who would be comfortable as a member of a “posse.”