Free Rocky Point Reunion by Barbara McMahon Page B

own life revolved around her business, church and her friends. And during the week because of the long hours she put in, she didn’tsocialize much. Still, she liked her life. She didn’t yearn for anything else—unless it was a family of her own. She liked children. Would love to give her father some grandkids.
    Sometimes she felt a touch of envy for those friends who had loving husbands and rambunctious children.
    She shook her head, trying to dislodge those thoughts. The Lord would provide her a partner in His own good time. If that was His will. Some women never married. She hoped she wasn’t one. She really did want children. And her dad would love a grandson to teach to fish!
    It was just after nine when she gathered a folder and her purse. She was going to give a new lobster distributor in Portland a chance to work with her and had scheduled an interview at their offices later this morning.
    The road to Portland wound through the forest with glimpses of the sea from time to time. She had chosen the highway for the scenic views rather than the speed the interstate would have given her. She was in no particular hurry and relished this time to herself. Her manager was in charge at the restaurant and could handle any emergency. It was almost like a holiday.
    The meeting went well and once finished, Marcie decided to eat lunch at one of the restaurants in the Old Port section of Portland. The meal was delightful and she wondered if the Cabot sisters could add another entrée to the menu.
    It was early afternoon when she headed back. Once the traffic from Portland thinned, she sped up a bit. Passing one car, she looked in her rearview mirror in surprise. It was her father. He was going the same way she was—away from Portland and toward Rocky Point.
    Had he been in Portland again? Why?
    Another car passed her father and came in behind her.She considered the idea of slowing down and then letting her father pass her so she could follow him home. But before she could act on that, he turned off. Puzzled, Marcie continued home. She’d call her dad later to see what was going on.
    But, though she tried every half hour all evening long, her father didn’t answer. Finally after nine, really concerned, she drove over to her childhood home to check on him. It was dark. His car was not in the carport. Where was he?
    She parked and wrote a short note asking him to call her when he got home, then opened the front door and put it prominently on the table where he kept his car keys. He must have made plans that she didn’t know about. Not that she should. When she’d moved from home, she’d wanted her own privacy and her dad was entitled to his.
    The next morning just before the lunch rush began, her father called.
    â€œWent fishing with some friends,” he said.
    â€œI saw you on the highway yesterday and then you turned off. You were coming from Portland,” she said.
    â€œI missed the turn going up, had to turn around and go back down. Didn’t catch anything, either.”
    She smiled at the disgruntled tone. “Can’t catch something every time. I just wondered since I couldn’t reach you at home last night.”
    â€œA man should not have his daughter watching him every moment.”
    Marcie laughed. “Like it’s every moment. If I hadn’t seen you on the highway near Portland I would never have known. I was surprised to see you, that’s all.”
    â€œWhat were you doing in Portland?” he asked. “I didn’t know you were going up.”
    Marcie explained. They chatted a few minutes, thenhung up. She needed to see more of her father. Maybe they could have lunch together after church Sunday. He rarely missed church services. She was worried about him. He was all the family she had. Time to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.
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    Sunday Marcie dressed in a light blue suit, growing more nervous as the time for church