Page 109 of Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds

“It’s why he loves me,” Doug said defensively. “Because if it weren’t for me, David would be all work, no play.”

“Consider that maybe he’s more introverted, and introverts need their downtime. I’m speaking from experience here,” I added. “Being around too many people, always having to beon, is exhausting.”

Doug frowned, bit into his thick bacon slice and chewed.

“You didn’t answer my question. Are you saying you and David have done nothing alone?”

“Of course not.” He pouted.

“Well?”

“We enjoyed our hot tub last night. Alone.”

“That’s one.”

Doug wrinkled his nose. “We went on a hike Wednesday afternoon. It was lovely. Then—” He stopped.

“Then what?”

“Well, Jim and Josh were heading to the gym, and we joined them.”

“Planned?”

“No, and I don’t evenlikegoing to the gym. I suggested it because David complains if he doesn’t work out every day.”

“That’s one and a half things,” I said.

“Why doesn’t he just talk to me?”

“You should talk to him,” I said. I thought of all the misunderstandings between people I knew—misunderstandings that would be resolved if one person just stepped up and asked a question.

“I shouldn’t have to,” he muttered.

“No one said marriage is easy,” I said. I thought of Anja and Nelson and how supportive they were of each other during a really difficult time. I thought of Henry and his wife creating a second life working here on the island after their kids grew up. And how Braden and Amanda completed each other.

But I wasn’t married and had never been in that serious a relationship. Most of what I absorbed came through romancenovels, and they were fiction, hardly manuals for a successful long-term relationship.

“Just saying,” I continued, “you could be right, and David could be right, or you could both be half-right. But if you don’t work it out when the problem arises, then your frustrations will fester. Basically—you shouldn’t be here talking to me. You should talk to your husband.”

I couldn’t believe I was giving relationship advice. Me, Mia Crawford, whose last relationship lasted a year only because we saw each other twice a month, at most.

I gave good advice, though.

“You’re right,” Doug said.

“Go,” I said.

He drained his Bloody Mary and gave me a hug. “You’re good people, Mia.”

“You too.”

Alone, I sipped my drink and enjoyed the sights and sounds of the kids in the pool. I’d missed the yoga class because of my impromptu meet with Doug, but I enjoyed people-watching here at the pool bar since it wasn’t crowded.

“Another?” Charlie asked, motioning to my empty Bloody Mary.

“I’m good for now,” I said, and ate the last of my celery.

I thought about Adam. Why hadn’t I cared when we split? Because I didn’t care abouthim? I liked him... but I didn’t feel deeply for him. I never really put my heart on the line because I didn’t care what happened between us.

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