The Topsail Accord by J. Kalnay

if he saw you jogging with Joe?”
    “ Where did that come from?” Shannon asks.

Shannon and Joe, et al.
     
    Shannon and Cara arrive exactly at seven. A small group of four or five women and two or three men are standing outside the coffee shop, most sipping from tall to-go cups. Shannon parks in the same spot.
    “ Ready for this?” she asks Cara.
    “ Coffee. Need coffee...” Cara answers.
     
    “ Here is your coffee ladies. Shannon, your special order for the early morning, and a double espresso for, your daughter?” Joe asks.
    “ Charming,” Cara says rolling her eyes. She holds out her hand, “Cara, sister Cara.”
    “ You’re a nun?” Joe asks.
    Cara rolls her eyes again.
    “ No verbal or mental gymnastics until after my coffee please,” Cara says.
    Shannon laughs to herself at Joe’s teasing of her sister. Like Shannon, Cara is rarely on the receiving end of witty repartee or teasing. As the bosses at their jobs and as the leaders in their fields they are both much more used to respectful discourse, not early morning “nice to meet you” banter.
    “ Certainly Dr. Patrick,” Joe says.
    “ You know I’m a doctor?” Cara asks.
    “ Yes.”
    “ How could you possibly know that?” Cara asks.
    “ I googled ‘Shannon geologist Ohio shale oil’ so I could read up on Shannon.”
    “ That’s kind of sneaky, checking up on her like that,” Cara says.
    “ Sneaky? Rhymes with cheeky. But Shannon said I could. Even gave me the Google keywords. Told me she wanted me to know what I was getting into. Anyway, one of the articles mentioned her sister the famous cancer researcher and I followed the link and read up on you. You two are quite the pair.”
    “ That’s not fair,” Cara says.
    “ You could have Googled me,” Joe says.
    “ What would we have found?” Cara asks.
    “ Wouldn’t want to spoil the discovery or lose my sense of mystery...”
     
    “ So what exactly are we doing?” Shannon asks.
    “ Some amateur archeology,” Joe says.
    “ You’re joking,” Cara says.
    “ Not really. But yeah kinda sorta. This morning we are going to pick up trash,” Joe says.
    “ Really?”
    “ Really. Everyone out there owns one of these little businesses along here so we adopted this mile of highway and we pick up the trash every Friday. We go down to the little cemetery on one side and then we turn around and come back. The guy who runs the bait shop has a prosthetic leg so he drives my truck behind us with the four way flashers on. We can put bags in the back as they fill up.”
    “ Is there a reeee-son why the business owners chose Friday?” Cara asks.
    “ Good question. Very insightful Dr. Patrick. I can see that probing scientist mind of yours in action, always looking for a reason. So yes there is a particular reason. The incoming renters arrive on Saturday and Sunday, and we like to have the last mile before the bridge looking pristine. And, the outgoing renters leave on Saturday and Sunday so we also like them to see how clean things are here. We like making a good first and last impression.”
    “ And being out there on Saturday morning wouldn’t work because there would be too much traffic and people would see the trash actually being picked, right?” Cara asks.
    “ Insightful again. Yes. So I see that I’m not going to be able to get anything past either Shannon or her sister Cara,” Joe says.
    “ Were you planning on trying to get something past us?” Cara asks.
    “ Cara!” Shannon says. “That’s enough you two. Please take your coffees and head to your respective corners...”
    “ Thanks for the coffee. It really is quite good,” Cara says.
    “ You are welcome. And now, without further ado, it is time to go pick some trash. I have trash bags and gloves and pickers in my truck, unless you brought your own.”
     
    “ There’s more trash than I thought there would be,” Shannon says to Joe. “Are the renters really this careless or thoughtless?”
    “ Sadly, I