Cape May Read Online Free Page B

what sixty was for her mother but, most likely, the best of life was over. Maybe her need to move, to start a business, to change everything, was simply a stab at slowing the inevitable
decline. Maybe she wanted to shake things up with Brian. Things had gotten dull, and she was at least fifty-one percent to blame.
    It was odd, really. She and Brian had started radically. All their friends thought they were crazy for marrying the way they did.
    One night over twenty-five years ago, she went to Brian’s apartment, lonely and desperately needing someone to just hold her. She wasn’t in the mood for anything more, but quid pro quo. An hour later, over scrambled eggs and bagels, Brian had said, “You know, I have more fun with you than anyone else. If we don’t meet anyone…”
    “Oh, please, not one of those we’ll be married soul mates kinda thing,” Joanna said.
    “Why not? I’m not saying we should get married tomorrow. But if we hit, let’s say, forty, and neither of us is married, we could live our lives together. I’ll watch your boring black and white movies, and you can go to baseball games with me. That’s the one with the small round hard ball, and the bases.”
    “Got it.”
    “And you could help me to get home after I’ve had a colonoscopy.”
    “How romantic.” She giggled, “You know, it doesn’t sound bad, really.”
    “You know I love you, Joanna. Like my best friend ever.”
    “You, too, Brian,” said Joanna, knowing full well she had years to meet someone and truly fall in love. But despite an assortment of boyfriends and a range of relationship lengths, she never did.
    ***
    She jotted down in her notebook, “ Change, selfish? Poor Brian the New Yorker .” Avoiding veering off into negative self-hate territory, she gazed out the windows past the man sitting next to her. The rocking of the bus, and scenery shushing by, began weaving a hypnotic spell. Her shoulders relaxed. She breathed slower, more deeply.
    The man next to the window continued to read, with the brim of his denim baseball cap shading his eyes from the sun streaming through the window. She wished she had his ability to tune everything else out. Maybe it was the book? She stole a look at the title, and chuckled. What a coincidence. She tried to make eye contact but his eyes never left the page.
    One of the many books she was always reading about how to run a B&B said “ The importance of warm, open personal interactions with guests cannot be overstated. ” That was definitely something she’d have to practice. Talking to strangers wasn’t her thing, but no time like the present. She took the plunge, and quietly said to the man sitting next to her, “You enjoying the book?” The man didn’t answer. A little l ouder: “Do you know there’s a sequel?” No answer. So much for her attempt at being outgoing. “Never mind!” She resettled into her chair, semi-accidentally elbowing the man.
    He reached up to his ear, pulled out an earplug, and said, “Am I in your way?”
    “Earplugs. Great idea.”
    The man nodded. “I don’t like being disturbed…”
    Joanna threw up her hands. “Great.”
    “No, I didn’t mean you.”
    “First I sit next to a sullen teenager and now a grumpy old man.”
    “Hey lady, I’m not grumpy. I’m not old. And I’m not that rude. I don’t like to be disturbed by all the bus noises. I didn’t mean you personally.”
    “Oh.” She settled back in her seat, more than a little embarrassed. She smiled a little shy smile. “Then I’m sorry for what I said.”
    The man huffed, then slowly turned away, pushed his earplug back in, and returned to his book. Joanna opened her notebook.

CHAPTER 2
    Hours earlier that morning, on West Seventy-Third, Michael Leighton had exited his apartment building and made a right onto Amsterdam Avenue. He pulled his denim baseball cap a little lower on his head. The brim, plus his sunglasses, made it easier for him to people-watch. The humans of