“The whales had already left. As far as we could tell, so had the bluefish. We drank quite a bit of beer and didn’t talk about pre-Columbian art at all. A squall came up on the way back to Gloucester. The three of us huddled in the cabin while Cap’n Hook slogged through the rolling seas. Charlie told a few jokes, but otherwise we watched the grey ocean through the rain-streaked windshield in comfortable silence, and when we finally pulled into Dan’s slip at the marina, darkness had already falle...n. We agreed it had been a very good day of fishing. After all, there was no blood and slime to wash out of the boat and there were no fish to clean. I talked with Gloria on the phone a few times, mostly polite conversations updating each other on our respective businesses. She seemed to be enjoying the life of the professional photographer more than I liked lawyering. She offered no complaints about Joey, nor did I inquire. Joey brought Debbie to my apartment to try my famous chili one autumnal Friday evening.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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