Page 71 of Half Moon Whim

“Did I think she was going to waste away without me?” He shook his head, swallowing over the tightness in his throat. “Damned if I do, and damned if I don’t.” He was in love with her, and a month apart hadn’t changed that. But he couldn’t stay in a relationship if she didn’t feel the same.

I’m just not wired that way. I need a gesture that she’s serious. And there wasn’t any hint of one…

But another voice had been niggling at the back of his mind, growing louder.

Did you even give her a chance, Jack?

Or was he so terrified of being left again that he never even tried with Sara? The situation was complicated, but so what? He groaned and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Maybe I’m just not ready to be involved again.”

Or maybe you’re just giving up without a fight, same as last time.

Jack glanced over his shoulder at the tree line, but the path wasn’t even visible. It wasn’t going to get any lighter while he sat on the beach feeling sorry for himself, so he grabbed the sketch pad and rose to his feet. Nearing the end of the beach, he reached into a back pocket to pull out his phone. It was empty. “Super. Good time to forget your phone, Powell.”

As he started back, he could picture it sitting on his table. The flashlight would come in handy right about now. Grimacing, he carefully picked his way through the thick, black vegetation. The jungle was still around him, and he tripped over a tree root but managed to stay on his feet, swearing loudly.

It took much longer than normal, but eventually Jack emerged from the black jungle onto the rocky iron shore. After picking his way over the uneven surface, he breathed a sigh after his feet sank onto the white sand beach of Serenity. He couldn’t help glancing at Sara’s apartment, noting the lights were off. Burying the thought of her, Jack entered his apartment and glanced at the table. His phone sat right where he thought it would be. Picking it up, he discovered a missed call from Dexter less than five minutes previously. With concern creasing his brow, he dialed the older man.

It rang five times before Dexter answered in a wavering, confused voice. “H-h-hello?”

“It’s Jack, Dexter. I saw you called. Is everything all right?”

“Oh. Well, I’m not sure. I cut my finger slicin’ an apple.”

“How bad?”

“I got it all wrapped up, but I can see blood. I’ve changed the tissue a couple of times. I don’t know. I’m sorry to bother you, Jack. It’ll be fine by morning, I’m sure. You have a good night, now.”

Alarm stabbed through Jack’s stomach. “Wait! Don’t hang up. When did you cut it?”

“Oh, about half an hour ago, I guess.”

“And it’s still bleeding?”

There was a pause and a rustling. “Yeah, it is.”

“Stay there, Dexter. I’m on my way.” Jack grabbed his keys and headed out the door, phone pressed to his ear.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m just a foolish old man.”

Jack started his truck. “What’s your address, Dexter?” He gave the street and house number to Jack, who programmed it into the truck’s GPS. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Keep pressure on it, ok? I’ll take a look at it, and we’ll go to the hospital if you need stitches.”

An hour later, Jack sat on a hard plastic chair in a curtained bay of the emergency room. Next to him, Dexter lay on a gurney. A doctor finished placing half a dozen stitches on Dexter’s left index finger, then straightened. “That should do it. You’ll be good as new in a couple of weeks. You feeling ok?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Dexter replied. “Just feelin’ a bit embarrassed, is all.”

The doctor gave him a kind smile. “Don’t. Accidents happen. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have a job.” He leaned back and ripped off his surgical gloves, tossing them in a round aluminum can. “Ok, you’re all set. Your labs came back fine, so I’ll get your walking papers and we’ll get you out of here soon.”

Dexter glanced at Jack before returning his gaze to the tile floor. “Thanks for helpin’ me out.”

Jack gave his bony shoulder a pat. “Of course. I’m glad you called—that’s why I gave you my phone number. You did the right thing.”

“I don’t get around as well as I used to. I’m startin’ to think South Carolina might not be such a bad place to live.”

“Your son has somewhere for you?”

Dexter inspected the white gauze wrapped around his finger, blinding white against his dark skin. “He’s got a separate little cottage all ready for me. Been callin’ just about every week. I got someone offerin’ me a lot of money for that land out at Half Moon Bay, and my house in Frederiksted wouldn’t take long to sell.”

Jack leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. “Sounds like your son really wants you there. That must feel good.”

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