“Something bad happen back at that bar?” he asked.
“No, it wasn’t the bar. It was what happened earlier.” She sniffled. “I was at a funeral. For my niece.”
“Oh. Damn. Sorry for your loss. How old was she?”
“She would have been twenty-two in September.”
“So young.” Whelan shook his head in sympathy. “What a shame.”
She was quiet for a while, and again, Whelan thought, even hoped, she was asleep. He didn’t know what to do with a crying woman. It was a complication he didn’t need.
“Her name was Parrish.”
“Pardon?”
“My niece. Her name was Parrish.”
Whelan was afraid to ask for details. Because details would invariably bring more tears.
“Nice name” was all he could come up with. Stupid thing to say.
“She was named after her paternal grandmother, Helen, but Parrish was her mother’s maiden name.”
“That’s a real Southern thing, huh?”
“I suppose so.” The passenger, whose name was Traci, he recalled, blew her nose on a tissue and stared out the window. They were on the causeway that crossed from the mainland to St. Cecelia Island. There was a full moon and it was mirrored perfectly in the river’s smooth black surface.
“Nice night.” Weather, he thought, was always a safe topic.
“At least it didn’t rain. On the funeral, I mean.”
“It was raining hard in Atlanta. Delayed the Braves game.”
“Oh. You’re a Braves fan?”
“Yeah. Grew up listening to the games on the radio with my granddad.”
“That’s funny. So did I. Where are you from?”
“All over,” Whelan said. “My folks split up when I was a kid, so I went to live with family in Greenville, South Carolina, then went in the military, started and sold a business. Retired a few months ago, and decided to try out island life for a while.”
He waited for a minute or two. “How about you? You staying out at the Saint?”
“Yes. You could say that.” She didn’t elaborate.
The ball was in her court. “Do you drive full-time? Or is this a sort of side hustle for you?”
“I’ve got a full-time job, so yeah, driving is just to make walking- around money. And, to tell you the truth, I’m new in town. I don’t know a lot of people, so this gets me out and learning the community.” This was partially true, so he didn’t feel guilty about the part that wasn’t strictly true.
“Walking-around money,” she mused. “I like that.”
“With my job, I mean, the money is okay, but living in a resort town ain’t cheap.”
“Tell me about it. What exactly do you do in your job?”
“I’m a supervisor for a landscaping crew. Out at the Saint, actually.”
“Interesting,” she said. “Do you like your job?”
