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“Aren’t you supposed to be in the Keys?” I say squinting into the sun, the outline ofout most of it in an act of mercy

“Your et an assistant, she’ll get one for you”

Myher I used to tell Beau to learn to live with it My words keep getting thrown back inthat If I ever survive this, I need to put a stop to her bullshit

“You’re divorced Start acting like it” I digwith a nasty case of drinker’s reht sunny day in the dead of winter

“She’s ot a divorce so we could stay that way”

Theover and over

My best friend is gone

I’ The fog is et fro that keeps the pain frohshod over me

“I know you’re hurting, but this…”––he looks around––“you can’t let it take you down It doesn’t do anybody any good”

John West, a shrink by trade, rarely counsels his own fa me he’s worried

“I’e with semi-believable conviction

The old h and stuffs his hands, callused by years of wrestling tuna and marlin, into his pockets

“You win,” I say, sitting up, resigned that he won’t go away until I make an effort to appease him

I run a hand over uess more than a few days has passed Bottles litter my bedroom floor, which explain how that time was spent That was never in doubt The only way I can bear life right now is in a state of deep intoxication Drowning in oblivion I wish he would leave so I can get back to it

“I’resswoman West to call off the search party”

“Get dressed,” Dad says as he heads for the door “I’ll take you to lunch”

The ie of his flannel covered back and wrinkled khakis is so daoes into reh