Osprey Island

He waited. “Because you said you wanted one . . . ?”

“Why’d you stay away so long?” she asked him suddenly.

He bristled. “I don’t really want to talk about that, OK?”

She felt a little cowed and covered it with brassiness. “Why’d you come back, then?”

He looked at her. “It’s home . . .”

“Not my home,” Suzy said.

“You can say that.”

“You don’t know me,” she said, her tone meaner than she’d intended.

“You’re right.” He stood up. “I don’t.” He pushed in his chair. “Sorry to bother you.” He turned away.

“Wait,” Suzy said. “Wait!” Her voice got louder. “Please . . .”

Roddy stopped and faced her again. “What?” It came out sounding like, What more do you want from me?

“Come back.” Her voice was gentle, but awkward. “Stay. It’s not the kind of night to be alone.”

Roddy snorted a laugh. “You mean, you don’t want to be alone.”

“I don’t,” she agreed.

He nodded once. “Yeah. I’m not some guy to fill in the time for you. Sorry.” He turned again and went out the sliding door.

Suzy stared for a minute. Then she got up and went after him.

Suzy found Roddy sitting in his truck in the north parking lot. The keys were in the ignition, but he hadn’t turned the engine over, was just sitting there, hand at the starter, one leg bouncing like crazy, his body hunched forward as if he were driving in a snowstorm, struggling to see the road ahead. The windows were open. Suzy knocked on the passenger door, then opened it and climbed in. “What the hell is going on?”

His leg stopped for a few seconds as he paused to look at her, then resumed as he spoke. “OK, let’s not even do this.” He tried to hurry the words out of himself and will them far away. “No one kissed anyone, OK? I can’t be thinking about that, all right? Lorna’s dead. We’ve got to build the new laundry. Guests might as well start arriving in ten minutes for how ready we’ll be. I don’t know what the fuck’s going to happen to Squee. To fucking Lance. The poor pathetic bastard. What the fuck is going to happen to Lance?” Roddy’s voice was breaking.

Suzy stared down at her hands in her lap. She said, “I don’t know.” Then she lifted her head, unclasped her hands, and turned on the seat to face Roddy, who was still staring straight ahead, navigating that imaginary dark and winding road.

She slid over, took his head in both her hands, turned his face to hers and kissed his mouth. She pulled back, looked in his eyes, then did it again.

He pulled away. “We’re in the parking lot . . .”

Suzy’s hands slumped to her lap. “I’m sorry.” She reached for the door. “Good night.”

Roddy sat alone in the truck for a long minute before he turned the keys in the ignition and drove home.

On the porch of the Lodge, the staff members were drinking as usual. Suzy nodded as she passed, a sad, acknowledging smile. Jeremy raised a hand. He was sitting on the deck, close with Peg, their backs propped against a pillar. Suzy lifted her hand to return the greeting, but it was Peg who spoke. “It’s true, is it, that you’re taking over for Lorna, then, Miss Chizek? As the head of housekeeping?”

“Suzy, please. Please: Suzy,” she said. Then, “Looks like it. At least until we find someone else.” She shifted her weight. “I feel bad for you guys,” she said. “I’m no housekeeper . . .”

Peg laughed a little. They were all self-conscious: Was it ruthlessly inappropriate to smile when someone was dead? Peg glanced around, noticing Suzy was alone. “Mia?” Peg said. “How’s she been holding up, then?”

“She’s OK, I think. She seems OK. I’m not sure how she’s supposed to be dealing, really. She’s sleeping upstairs.” Suzy gestured in the direction of the Lodge above them.

Peg was extraordinarily poised and efficient. Even lounging on her boyfriend, she held herself in good posture, straightening even taller as she spoke. “Please,” she said to Suzy, “if you’re ever in need of someone to mind her, I’d be pleased to. She’s a lovely girl.”

“That’s very sweet of you.” Suzy was used to such offers at the Lodge. She pushed it aside in her mind. Babysitters weren’t particularly necessary when you had your mother living up the hill. Except perhaps if that mother was temporarily, incapacitatingly drugged up and knocked out. Or when you didn’t much feel like explaining to your mother, as was often required, where it was you thought you were going at such an hour and when exactly you expected to be home. “Actually,” Suzy said, taking a step closer to Peg and Jeremy. “Actually, were you planning on hanging out here awhile tonight?”

Peg looked to Jeremy, who met her glance. They turned back to Suzy simultaneously, faces wide and blank, heads wagging, yeah, no, no plans, why?

“Mia’s asleep,” Suzy said. “Chances are she’ll stay that way. I could really stand to get out for a few hours. Just to clear my head a little.”

Peg was already waving her off. “Yeah, grand, go on. We’ll look in on her.”

“That’d be great,” Suzy said. “Thanks.” She was already moving back toward the parking lot.