Free Kathleen Valentine by My Last Romance, other passions Page B

mother’s only. Things were different back then. I guess people screwed around as much then as they do now—they just didn’t talk about it. Things were more private."

He starts to empty the cash register then decides to leave it for later—there isn’t much worth worrying about.

"Bonnie was pretty shy. Maybe things would have been different for both of us if I hadn’t gotten her pregnant—but maybe not. Back then girls were pretty much all alike—some a little taller, a little plumper, a little spunkier. Not all this career and independence stuff. I wouldn’t say it was better—just simpler."

"Were you happy married to Mom?"

Guy flips around the CLOSED sign and lifts the empty coffee pot. "Should I make another pot?"

"I’ll have some if you are."

He measures French Roast into the pleated paper liner and pours water from the plastic jug into the back of the machine. It’s fully dark out now. The only sound is the incoming tide sucking at the pilings, the moan of the foghorns, and the drip of the coffee.

"I did love your Mom, Hugh. And I expect we were happy most of the time. We fought some and there were times when I wondered what in hell I’d gotten myself into. But I was off on Georges Bank a lot. It was pretty much always the same... When I’d be heading out I was happy as hell to get away from the house and by the time I got back I was damn glad your Mom and you kids were there waiting for me. It wasn’t perfect—but it was good."

Hugh swivels back and forth in his chair. "You never cheated on her?"

The coffee hasn’t finished dripping but Guy decides he can’t wait—where the hell did that come from? Swiftly switching an empty cup for the half filled pot he pours steaming coffee into his mug switches them back and adds the little bit in the cup to his mug. He opens his bottom desk drawer and fetches the bottle of bourbon he keeps there for emergencies. This is starting to feel like an emergency. He adds a shot to his mug.

"Kicker?" he asks offering the bottle to Hugh.

"Sure." Hugh offers his mug. He puts the bottle down by the coffee machine and settles back into the rocker.

"What kind of a question is that to ask your own father?"

"You don’t have to answer."

The street is quiet now. All the traffic has gotten wherever it is going. He wonders if she is as far as Plymouth. He wonders if she stopped to get a Starbucks and is sipping it as she drives thinking of him. Thinking of his kisses. They are both coffee addicts. She says that her first cup of coffee in the office each morning now brings the memory of tasting coffee on his lips.

Hugh is watching him.

Guy nods. "Once. Only once. I wish I could tell you I felt bad about it but I thought about that girl for years and it got me through some pretty bad times. There were times I thought I’d’ve gone nuts if I hadn’t had her to think about."

"No shit?"

"No shit. It was pretty much of an accident that it even happened at all—I didn’t go looking for it. Sylvie was only three, Guy was still in diapers and Bonnie was pregnant with Marie. That was a real bad time. We had been fighting a lot and the fishing was lousy."

"Christ," Hugh shifts uncomfortably. "It sounds like a nightmare."

"Yeah, well, me and Beany Fonteneau and the McCutcheon brothers were fishing together at the time. You wouldn’t remember that old wooden tub but she was a good one. She brought us through a lot of rough weather. Anyway, we followed a run of cod up past Stellwagen bank—first really good run of the season—when a hell of a nor’easter blew up. At first we were going to ride it out but I had a bad feeling so we headed for Cape Ann as fast as that old girl could carry us. Hell, I was younger then than you are now."

Hugh rolls his big eyes. "Just thinking about having two kids and a pregnant wife makes my nuts shrivel up."

Guy grins. "It wasn’t so bad. But I was just too hot blooded back then. We all were—bunch of young pissants. Anyway we put