Tell me it’s a good thing.” She looked to Suzy, then registered the concern on her face. “What?” Reesa glanced around her again. “It’s not so bad . . . Really, you’d be amazed how fast it goes. Suzy! What? What’s going on?” Reesa was getting it now: something was wrong. She started to her feet.
“No.” Suzy shook her head, waved Reesa back down. “No, no, you’re busy. I just . . . I need to get Mia . . . and Squee . . . You’re waiting for a shipment?”
“Yeah, why? Suze, what’s going on?” Reesa had gotten up anyway and was coming toward Suzy, wiping her hands on her jeans as she walked.
Suzy ran a hand through her hair, felt the scrap of cloth that was holding it back. “No, I just . . . you don’t know what time, do you? When they’re coming? I need to get the kids out of here, Reese. I need to go deal with things. Lance is . . . I don’t know what he is. He’s been at Squee, yelling, whatever, I don’t even know . . . Mia’s a wreck. I just want to get them away from him, just out of here for the afternoon. Just anywhere. I’m probably being totally melodramatic. Mia freaked me out though.” Suzy gestured vaguely with a hand in the direction of their room upstairs. “I don’t know what to do, but while I figure it out I don’t want my kid in his line of fire.”
Reesa put a hand on Suzy’s arm to still her: Hang on a minute, don’t move. She went toward the back of the shop. “Janna? Jan . . . you there?”
A head poked out from the storage closet. “Yes, ma’am,” Janna chirped.
“Why don’t you and that boyfriend of yours go to the beach this afternoon?”
“Um . . .” Janna regarded her quizzically, as if Reesa might be going a little off in the head. “Um, because I’m working . . . ? Is this a trick question?”
Reesa spoke slowly, letting out each word as she struck together a plan in her mind. “Why . . . don’t . . . you and Mister California”— Reesa had become markedly skeptical about Gavin since hearing of his dalliances with Brigid—“take the afternoon, and take Squee and Mia to the beach? Not Sand . . . take them over across the island . . . Wickham, or Scallopshell . . . Why don’t you guys do that?” She peered at Janna, waiting for an answer.
“You providing the vehicle, boss lady?”
“Ah, shit, that’s right . . . yeah, no, take the truck. That’s fine . . . I don’t need it . . . Do I? No, that’s fine.” Reesa leaned toward the counter, pawed around for her keys. “Here . . . OK, so Mia’s . . . ? Suze? Where?” Suzy pointed toward the dining room. “And Squee?”
Suzy gave a panicky shrug: Where was he? She didn’t know.
“We’ll find him,” Janna assured them.
“He might be up with Lance?” Suzy suggested.
“OK.” Janna took the keys.
“In which case, it’ll be a good thing it’s you, not me,” Suzy said.
Reesa nodded ruefully. “Oh, he likes Janna, all right.”
Janna started toward the door. “When’d you want ’em home, Suzy?”
“You keep them away as long as you can.” Suzy dug in her pocket, thrust some bills at Janna. “Go for clam rolls for dinner . . . something . . . whatever . . . You want to go off-island to a movie, great. Keep Squee out of here as long as you can.”
Janna paused by the door. She looked back at them with the first signs of her own worry. “Is everything OK?”
“Yes,” said Reesa.
“No,” said Suzy, at the exact same time.
Janna looked warily at them both. “Gotcha.” And then she turned and fled before Reesa could have a change of heart.
“What the fuck am I going to do?” Suzy said aloud.
“What’re you thinking about doing?”
Suzy waited, then said it, as if it had only just come to mind. “Leaving?”
Now was when Reesa had to pretend that Suzy didn’t say that very thing every summer she came back to Osprey. Patiently, she asked, “Would it solve anything?”
Suzy thought. “I’ve never felt scared before. I’ve been pissed as shit—I’ve been livid!—but I don’t think I’ve ever been scared. It’s always been about me, not about Mia. Not about safety.”
“What’re you scared of, you think?”
Suzy mumbled, “I don’t know.” Then she said: “My dad’s not