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Show Woodworth/130 But in a way, it's bad. He's always looking for something to do. "We can go to the beach,P Marty says. "We can take a picnic, and go to Crane's Beach, or someplace. Go to the Cape." She thinks of Nantucket, .Walking the beaches. But.. Nantucket is where Jake is, stealing cigarettes, and ^sharing them with her. Nantucket is where Jake is, refusing to come home or call them. "We could sail." "Sailing." He laughs. "Do you like to sail?" "I don't know. I've only done it once, I think. With my father. And that was a long time ago." He steers her through the crowds at the Market, up to the counter at the Raw Bar. Orders beer, and pays for both drinks. "Where did you sail?" Marty asks. She drinks from her beer, looking coyly at him over the rim of the glass. She is settling in. "It was just on a pond. One of those things that my father did. You know, weekends with the kids." "You don't sound like you liked it very much." "I didn't, really. My parents were divorced. And every Sunday, I had to go over to my father's. Eat lunch, and have some activity. And a talk. He was big into the talks." "*Kfc. ';^*".rb--->' cao^ad , a warmth*growS in Marty's stomach, spreads downwards into her genitals. The corner of the bar leans against her breast. "What did you talk about?" she asks him. "He always wanted to know what my mother was up to. What she did, who she saw. It was weird, because the whole time they lived together, I don't think he ever cared what she did. He'd be gone at work all day, and then he'd come homeland read the newspaper until it was dinner time. During dinner, he never said much. He just ate. Then he'd go upstairs and take a shower, and go to bed. |