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It was easy. For a few days, until I got the trailer stocked and everything moved into it, it was parked in the carport. She brought hot cocoa packets...and a carton of milk. The first thing I’d moved into the trailer was my coffee mugs.“So, Dad,” she began. She was using her most mature voice—the voice of reason. “What’s your goal? Are you out to discover yourself? Do you have a quest to see all the states? The National Parks? Old girlfriends?” We laughed. I pulled a bottle of crème de menthe. I explained to her some of the emails contained pictures and took a little longer to open and with that I walked out into the garage on the pretext of checking the laundry. I gave her about one minute in the house alone and came back in.There was Gramma, standing over the computer looking at four pictures of women her age. All of them were naked and very nasty. I brushed by her and sat down. I laughed and stated "they looked very sexy." Gramma said "Hmmm. I look better than them." I replied. Was it her first time anywhere alone?”“Yes,” I replied, “but it was my first time anywhere alone while I was in LA.”“And you were surrounded by friends,” she said, “she had nobody there, I don’t know the circumstances of what she did and why, but I think maybe at that age, I might have acted the same way.”“So, you think I should just forgive, forget and take her back?”“No, David,” she replied, “I don’t. Forgive? Yes. Forget? No. And if you do decide to take her back at some time, you should. When he reached the top of the dunes he saw the light again. A gentle breeze carried away the mugginess of the night and brought in its place the smell of the sea and the sound of the waves rapping a summons against the shore. He walked on the narrow wooden footpath from the dunes to the beach, memory guiding his feet on the beaten boards. On the beach Jerry felt the same feeling in his gut and looked for the light. He saw it between the beach and the start of the mangrove on the spit of land.
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