Facing them sat the newlyweds, holding hands behind paper plates of barely touched grilled snapper and steamed vegetables. Overdressed for the setting: Garrett, still stubble-bearded, in a vanilla-colored linen suit and a black T-shirt, the woman once known as Baby in a flowing red silk dress that exposed just a hint of cleavage.
The red was a couple of tones deeper than the scarlet sheath Susie Koster had worn to her death. As far as I recalled, bride and groom had never seen a full shot of her. At the most a ribbon of red at the bottom of the headshot.
So no sense interpreting.
On the other hand, maybe Brearely had caught enough color to start thinking. Or just feeling.
When it came to the human urge to process horror by undoing, redoing, distorting, or simply pretending, you never knew.
Everyone greeted me.
Milo said, “Order at the counter.”
Brearely said, “Oh, I’ll do that for you, Doctor. What do you want?”
I said, “It’s fine,” and climbed to the shack. A sunburned couple in front of me took a while to decode their lunch desires before the kid behind the counter yelled, “Next!”
I ordered a taco like Sean’s and an iced-tea. A sign said, Pay Here, so I held out cash.
The kid shook his head. “Dude in the suit took care of it, got his plastic numbers. Fill your own drink. When the grub’s ready, someone’ll bring it to you.”
I returned to the table with a number on a metal stand and the tea.
“What’d you get?” said Milo, drawing carton number three near.
I pointed to Sean’s plate.
Sean smiled and flashed the V-sign. Not his usual everything’s-great grin; a shallow, obligatory uplift of lips. He was back on the job, doing desk work. Still talking in a rasp and wearing turtlenecks, today’s bright green.
I sat to his left, at the short end of the table. He reached over and squeezed my hand. Held on, finally let go. Eventually, we’d talk about what happened.
“So,” said Garrett. “We’re really glad you all agreed to come. We really want to thank you. Not that the other detectives weren’t great, but you were at…you were there when it happened.”
Brearely said, “We had to thank you. For saving our wedding.”
Milo and Sean and I stared at her.
“I don’t mean literally, guys. Spiritually, that’s more important.” Touching her heart. “You did your wonderful detective work and proved it had nothing to do with us. That we didn’t do anything wrong, none of our friends did. Even though some people said we did.”
Milo said, “Who?”
Garrett said, “Idiot trolls on Facebook and Twitter.”
“They trolled us because of the theme,” said Brearely. “Saints and Sinners. What did they call it, honey?”
“They accused us of minimalizing sin, reducing it to a joke,” said Garrett. “As if trying to lighten things up was some sort of moral failing.”
His wife looked up at him lovingly.
I said, “That’s pretty stupid, not to mention tacky.”
“Anonymous makes it easy,” rasped Sean.
Milo said, “Want us to track them down and slam ’em in jail?”
Brearely’s eyes widened.
“He’s kidding,” said Garrett. “Right?”
Milo said, “Well…yeah, just fooling. Sorry if it scared you, Brearely.”
“Don’t be,” said Brearely. “You have a right to joke. Your job, it’s so serious, I don’t know how you do it. That’s why we wanted to do something nice for you. Even though it’s just lunch. But we figured getting away from all the horrible stuff you see and coming out here would be like…healing.”
Milo said, “I rarely pair ‘just’ with lunch.”
Brearely said, “Huh?”
Garrett cued her with a laugh.
“Oh. Ha—look, here’s your food, Doctor.”
* * *
—
We ate and listened, for a while, to the meld of the ocean across the highway and roaring traffic before Garrett said, “We feel as if you vindicated us. That’s helped clear our heads and allowed us to move forward and for that we’ll always be grateful. We’re also inviting you to next year. On our anniversary, we’re going to throw a party. Nothing like the wedding. Just a party. If we can afford it, maybe someplace near here, Brears loves the ocean.”
Brearely said, “I do and my mom knows places.” She turned to her husband and cuffed his arm lightly. “I hope it’s nothing like the wedding. Just kidding.”
Garrett gave a well-practiced smile. With luck, he’d be doing it for years. “So, if you can make it, around a year from now.”
Brearely said, “We’ll send you all e-vites. Way before, so you can arrange. Okay?”
Sean looked at Milo. Milo looked at me.
I said, “Sounds like fun.”
“Great!” said Brearely, springing up and going around the table kissing each of us on the cheek. Sean blushed. Milo worked hard not to smile.
“So that’s it,” said Garrett, standing. “You guys eat, it’s all paid for. We weren’t really hungry, we just wanted to make sure you got good lunches.”
Before we could thank him, he took his wife’s hand and led her down the dirt mound. The two of them kept going until they reached the shoulder of the highway, then stopped and looked both ways.
Sean rasped, “They’re going to try to cross?”
Milo rested his brow in his hand. “That’s all we need, a real sad ending.”
Fretting the way parents do when risks present themselves. Doing nothing because the kids were old enough and at some point, they just had to find their own way.
These two did. Watching patiently as vehicles roared pass. Finding a lull in the northbound traffic and running for the median.
They stood there for a while until the southern route cleared. Ran across the three remaining lanes and made it to the beach.
Garrett peeled off his suit jacket, managed to remove his shoes while standing. But he went no farther.
Standing in the sand, watching as his life partner ran coltishly toward the breakers. Lifting up the hem of her red dress, luxuriant hair fanning.
She reached the water’s edge, bent and scooped. Splashed like a toddler.
Too far to hear her, her slender back to me. But I knew she was laughing.