Page 26 of Island Girl

“Not everything. Just enough. Enough so she knows this isn't something she can solve.”

Paula was quiet again. Justin waited, letting her think.

“I'll come by this week,” she said finally. “Maybe Thursday. That's my day off.”

“Thank you.”

“Don't thank me yet. I don't know if it'll help.” She paused. “This girl. Merritt. You trust her?”

Justin thought about it. He thought about the way Merritt worked, the way she treated the customers, the way she'd shown up on her day off just because she wanted to be there. He thought about the way she talked about her father, the warmth in her voice, the easy love.

“Yeah,” he said. “I trust her. She's not trying to cause trouble. She just doesn't know what she's walking into.”

“Then I'll try to explain it to her. Gently.”

“That's all I'm asking.”

“All right. Thursday. Afternoon, before the dinner rush?”

“That works. I'll make sure she's here.”

“Okay.” Paula hesitated. “Justin? Thank you for calling. I know it's not easy, keeping an eye on him. But it means a lot that you do.”

“He's a good man,” Justin said. “Whatever happened to him, whatever he did, he's still a good man. I can see that.”

“He is.” Paula's voice was thick. “He just forgot how to believe it.”

They said goodbye and hung up. Justin sat on his porch for a while longer, finishing his coffee, watching the morning light shift through the trees.

He'd done the right thing. He was sure of it.

But part of him wondered what would happen when Paula and Merritt met. Two women who both cared about Ray in different ways. One who'd spent years watching him fade away, powerless to stop it. One who'd just arrived and didn't know yet that some people couldn't be saved.

Maybe Paula could make her understand. Maybe Merritt would back off and let Ray have his solitude.

Or maybe something else would happen. Something none of them could predict.

Justin stood up and went inside to shower. He had a bar to open.

Paula walked into Shorebirds on Thursday at three-fifteen.

Justin spotted her immediately. She had the same sharp eyes as Ray, the same dark hair, though hers was shorter and threaded with silver.

He raised a hand in greeting and she nodded, making her way to the bar. The place was nearly empty, just a couple of tourists finishing a late lunch and an older man reading a newspaper in the corner. Perfect timing.

“Thanks for coming,” Justin said, setting a glass of ice water in front of her.

“You sounded worried on the phone.” Paula took a sip and glanced around the room. “Where is she?”

“Upstairs. I told her to come down around three-thirty. Thought you might want a few minutes first.”

Paula nodded slowly, her fingers tracing the condensation on the glass. She looked tired. The kind of tired that went deeper than a long shift at work. Justin had seen that look before on his grandfather's face in the months after June died. The weight of loving someone you couldn't help.

“Tell me again,” she said. “About this girl.”

“Merritt. She's been here about two weeks. Good worker, quick learner. The customers like her.” Justin wiped down the bar, more for something to do with his hands than because it needed cleaning. “She lost her mother recently. Spent years taking care of her. I think that's part of why she's drawn to Ray. She recognizes something.”

“The broken bird syndrome.”