A waitress popped her head in from the main dining room, “Know where you want to sit?” she asked.
“Yeah, we’re going to grab a table outside. You know, if there’s room.”
The place was deserted. My humor was lost on her; she just shrugged and trotted away. Oh well, I heard Janine snicker as she came up behind me, and hers was the only person’s laughter I needed.
“I assume there’s a story here, otherwise you wouldn’t have brought me.”
“Call me Ishmael,” I said and took her hand. I led her through the empty dining room to the deck beyond. Soon the place would be filled to the brim with more residents returning from weekending elsewhere; Cape May, Atlantic City, Long Branch. I wanted at least a few moments alone, to hear the sound of her voice without straining over a crowd, to gaze upon h
