Free Gargantua by K. Robert Andreassi

work get in the way of things.
    Diane always used to be the one to drag him back to earth when he got all swallowed up in his work, whether that work involved migration patterns or kelp forests or trying to find out why people were dying despite the best efforts of obnoxious fishermen.
    He saw Alyson Hart sitting at the bar, a small plate of scrambled eggs and a glass of some kind of fruit juice in front of her. Well, at least I’ll get something out of this. Alyson was nothing like Diane, which encouraged Jack. If she was like Diane, he’d have been suspicious of any attraction for her, figuring it to be his subconscious trying to find a Diane substitute. But this was a more legitimate attraction. God knows what kind of social life an on-the-road marine biologist could possibly have, but it’s good to know that the social muscles still work.
    Alyson saw his approach and smiled at him, showing perfect white teeth.
    “ ’Morning,” she said.
    “Hi,” he said, sitting at the empty stool next to her. “Have you seen Brandon?”
    “No. Are you worried?”
    Jack sighed. He had tried to keep his tone neutral, but it obviously didn’t work if the doctor could read his concern so easily. “Not worried, just . . .” He hesitated. “I was kind of abrupt with him last night.” Understatement #942, he thought ruefully. “For him to be up and about so early this morning, he must be pretty pissed at me.”
    Before either of them could continue, the waitress—Tari, Jack remembered her name—appeared in front of them on the other side of the bar. “Breakfast?”
    “Just coffee, please.”
    Tari nodded and turned to the coffeemaker behind her.
    “It must be rough,” Alyson said after a moment, “raising a child on your own.”
    Trying to sound nonchalant, Jack said, “It’s only been a year. And we’ve been on the move the whole time. I figured it’d be the best thing for Brandon—keeping busy, new adventures, not having to dwell on . . .” Again, he hesitated. “You know, the bad stuff.” Christ, I sound like Brandon. What is it about this woman that ties my vocal cords up? Tari placed a cup full of coffee in front of Jack, then moved both the cream pitcher and sugar bowl close to him—unnecessary, as it happened, since Jack drank his coffee black, but he appreciated the gesture and smiled at Tari.
    Alyson took a sip of her juice before saying, slowly, “Best for Brandon, or best for you?”
    “What’re you talking about?” Jack asked, a trifle indignant.
    Again she hesitated before slowly replying. “Running away,” she started, then stopped.
    “Running away?” Jack parrotted, his indignance now more than a trifle.
    “Never mind,” Alyson said, looking down at her eggs in order to spear a forkful and shove it in her mouth.
    “I guess you’d know all about running away, huh?” Jack said.
    Alyson swallowed her eggs and fixed Jack with a steely gaze. “I would?”
    “Yeah, this place is crawling with expatriates. I bet your story’s a doozy.”
    The look Alyson gave him made Jack realize that he had screwed up royally for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.
    “I’m not an expatriate,” she said. “I grew up here. My father was the American liaison. After medical school, I came back home to run the clinic.”
    Not bad, he thought while sipping his coffee. I spent yesterday cheesing off the entire fishing community on the island, followed it up by alienating my son, and now I’ve offended the local doctor. At this rate, I’ll have the whole island out to lynch me by dawn tomorrow.
    Aloud, he simply said, “Okay, I’m a jerk—sue me.” He started to get up, leaving his coffee half-finished. He had a son to find, after all, and he had pretty much killed any chance of friendly relations with Alyson.
    Then the young woman put her hand on his arm. “We were both being presumptuous,” she said, her facial expression softer.
    He looked at her, and she smiled. God, that’s a