The Topsail Accord Read Online Free

beach.”
    “ You picked up a renter while you were jogging? Yeah she sounds different already.”
    “ Not really. I sort of ran her over. And I spilled her coffee. So I told her to come by and I would make her a replacement cup of coffee.”
    “ You ran her over?”
    “ It was foggy.”
    “ Riiiiiiiiiiiiight.”

Shannon
     
    My older sister Cara has finally put down her iPhone. I wonder if she is ever away from that thing. But I cannot criticize her because she is, after all, running a cancer research lab and seemingly always has patients desperate for experimental drugs or the latest clinical trial. And the emails and letters are heart-wrenching. So no, I can’t and don’t criticize her. Even though I long to throw the thing in the ocean so that she can be all here with me and not only partly here, I cannot be so selfish. She is giving herself to her work and I cannot interfere even though I want her all to myself.
    “ Shannon? Do you want to go for a walk?” Cara asks.
    “ After a while. I have to run across the bridge for a minute,” I answer.
    “ I’ll come. What do you need?”
    “ Umm. Well. I think I’ll be okay on my own.”
    “ Shannon?”
    “ Yes?”
    “ We’ve been sisters quite a while right?”
    “ Off and on for at least a couple of weeks.”
    “ And we’ve been coming to the beach for what? Twenty years?”
    “ About that.”
    “ And in those twenty years, not once, well maybe once, but not even once that I can recall have you just ‘run across any bridge’ for a minute by yourself.”
    “ And?”
    “ And… what’s across the bridge that makes it a certainty that you will be okay on your own?”
    “ I’m going to get a coffee.”
    “ You already had two or three cups, and we have more hot coffee in the machine.”
    “ I’m going to meet someone for a coffee.”
    My sister Cara puts her iPhone into her purse, stands up, and walks over to stand beside me where I am looking in the mirror. I have dabbed on clear lipstick and am applying very light mascara.
    “ A man?”
    “ Yes. I met him on the beach.”
    “ A local?”
    “ Yes.”
    “ Oh Shannon. A local? You can’t be serious.”
    “ It’s just coffee. He spilled my coffee on the beach and he offered to get me a replacement. He actually runs or maybe even owns the coffee shop. The ‘Cuppa Joe?’ His name is Joe.”
    “ Joe? ‘Cuppa Joe’?”
    “ Yep.”
    “ Cute. Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? I could go for a latte. And protect you from hideous puns.”
    “ I’ll bring you one.”
    “ Thanks.”
    “ Shannon?”
    “ Yes?”
    “ Be careful.”
    I step back from the mirror, place my hand on my sister’s forearm and brush her very gently.
    “ Thanks. I will. But it’s just coffee. Really.”

Joe
     
    I pick the sea turtle mug off the shelf for myself. Hers I have washed and have ready for her. While she is loving the perfect cup of coffee, we can talk about the sea turtles. Everyone loves sea turtles. You can’t read a Nicholas Sparks novel or any novel written about the Outer Banks without reading about sea turtles. So I choose the sea turtle mug because there is a nest right near where she is staying. Maybe she’s seen The Last Song and will know something about them. The sea turtles were even interesting to the man from Ohio who stopped in yesterday. He said he was on his way back to Ohio and wanted a coffee for the road. I get a lot of early morning people who want a good cuppa Joe for the road. They try to extend their weekly rental by taking my coffee with them.
    Why am I planning what we are going to talk about? Haven’t I learned that there is no such thing as a plan? That no plan survives the first moments of reality? Didn’t I learn that with Colleen? That plans are pipe dreams at best, cruel jokes of fate at worst?
    I wipe the sea turtle mug some more. It is spotless, and just warm enough. Hot coffee needs to go into a warm cup. Going into a cold cup or into a hot cup