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I finish my drink, and a few minutes later, another is set in front of me. One of the boys had gotten another drink for me. “That was a gin and tonic you had, wasn’t it?” he asks. “With the lime, I just assumed…” “Yes it was, but you didn’t need to get me this, let me pay you.” “No, no, this is our way to welcome you to Maine and to thank you for letting us share your table.” I thank them and begin to talk to them about – about just about anything and everything. I am so engrossed in the conversation that I never do see my husband tee off. After a while I become aware that the jukebox or radio in the bar has been turned up so that it can be heard plainly on the deck. I hum the tune that is playing. One of the boys notices and says, “C’mon, let’s dance.” I never really give any thought to saying no. I get up and start to dance with him. His friend joins us and the three of us dance on the deck. The next song is a slow song, and one after the other they take turns. I fall right into a. The constant whining and bellyaching finally got to him and he just didn’t go home one night. He didn’t care that her father had told her never to return. He didn’t have a single thought about the kid – all she did was cry. He had his own life and no woman was going to tell him how to run it. He only came back here to hide. He had been on the run for 3 years. No one saw him the night he killed the beautiful Isabelle and the bastard who stole her from him. But the ghosts in his dreams wouldn’t leave him be. Every time he got comfortable, they showed up. His luck would turn bad, he would start drinking too much and would have to leave quickly and quietly. Here he still had a few of his old buddies and could maybe hit them up for a bed or a loan. The money he had made from the sale of the hotel had long since been lost or spent. He had won and lost 2 fortunes since then and was currently broke. Gambling had never been anything but a fickle profession. He’d had enough for a week at the.
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