Page 28 of Island Girl

Merritt was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was steady. “You're talking about Ray.”

“I'm talking about a lot of people. But yes.” Paula slung her purse over her shoulder. “My brother has been coming to this bar for two years. He sits alone, drinks one glass of whiskey, and leaves. That's his routine. It's not much, but it's his. And right now, it's all he can handle.”

“I haven't…”

“I know you haven't. Justin told me. You've been respectful, kept your distance.” Paula's voice softened. “But I understand the desire to help. I recognize that feeling. I’ve struggled with this, for years. The belief that if you just care enough, if you're just patient enough, you can reach him.”

She stepped closer to Merritt, close enough to lower her voice.

“I've been trying to reach my brother for so many years. I'm still trying. But I've learned that pushing only drives him furtheraway. The best thing I can do is let him know I'm here and wait for him to be ready.” She paused. “If he's ever going to be ready.”

Merritt swallowed hard. “That sounds lonely.”

“It is.” Paula reached out and touched Merritt's arm, just briefly. “I'm not telling you to stop caring. That's not who you are, and it wouldn't work anyway. I'm just asking you to be careful. With him, and with yourself.”

She turned to Justin and nodded. “Thanks for the water. I'll see you Tuesday.”

“Thanks for coming, Paula.”

She walked out into the afternoon sun, the door swinging shut behind her. Silence settled over the bar.

Merritt stood frozen, staring at the door. Justin could see her processing everything Paula had said, turning it over in her mind.

“You called her,” Merritt said finally. Not accusatory. Just a statement.

“I did.”

“Because you're worried about me. Or about Ray.”

“Both.” Justin set down his towel and leaned against the bar, meeting her eyes. “Ray's been stable for two years. This place is safe for him. I don't want anything to disrupt that.”

“And you think I might.”

“I think you want to help. And I think that's a good impulse. But Paula's right. Some people aren't ready to be helped. And pushing them before they're ready can do more harm than good.”

Merritt was quiet. She walked over to the window and stood there, looking out at the water. Justin let her be, gave her space to think.

When she turned back, her expression was calmer. Resolute.

“I hear you,” she said. “Both of you. And I understand why you're concerned.” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “I'm not going to push Ray. I'm not going to try to force a conversation or make him talk to me. But I'm also not going to pretend Idon't see him. He's a person, not a ghost. And as long as he keeps coming here, I'm going to treat him like one.”

Justin nodded slowly. “That's fair.”

“I'm not trying to save him, Justin. I know I can't do that. But I can be kind. I can notice him without demanding anything in return.” She met his eyes. “That's not dangerous. That's just being human.”

He held her gaze for a long moment, then smiled. A small smile, but real.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

The front door opened and the first of the happy hour crowd wandered in. Merritt grabbed her apron and tied it around her waist.

“I'm going to start setting up,” she said.

“Sounds good.”

She headed toward the deck, and Justin watched her go. He thought about what Paula had said, about broken birds and burdens and the limits of caring. He thought about Ray, sitting alone in his corner every night, staring at nothing.

And he thought about Merritt, who saw a man everyone else had learned to look past.