The Topsail Accord by J. Kalnay Page A

think most of this trash is from locals. The renters go onto the island and stay there for the week, maybe go down to Wilmington for something, or come in once or twice to buy souvenirs. And most of the renters are fairly well off and seem to have good manners. So, very sadly, most of this trash is from locals. They dump it and think they can get away with it by blaming it on the renters.”
    “ So I guess you are a little bit of a local cultural anthropologist then?” Shannon asks.
    “ I wonder how many third dates have included commentary on being a ‘local cultural anthropologist’ while picking trash?” Joe asks.
    Joe and Shannon share a laugh.
     
    “ Joe tells me you’re a doctor?” Joe’s sister says.
    “ Yes. I do cancer research in Cleveland.”
    “ That must be difficult, to watch people die like that,” Joe’s sister says.
    “ Yes it is. But we do manage to save some.”
    “ My niece died of cancer,” Karen says abruptly.
    “ I’m sorry,” Cara says. “Your niece?”
    “ Joe’s daughter. She’s buried up at the little cemetery where we turn around at the end of our mile.”
    “ That must’ve been hard.”
    “ It was hard on all of us. On his wife too.”
    “ His wife?”
    “ Colleen was her name. She took it extremely hard. A lot of people blamed her, because she wouldn’t let her daughter get the latest treatment. She was a very fundamental Christian.”
    “ Does Christianity include denying medicine to a sick child?” Cara asks.
    “ Not my kind of Christianity,” Joe’s sister says.
    “ Nor mine,” Cara answers.
    “ She ended up killing herself. His wife. A year to the day after their daughter died. She’s buried in that little cemetery too. Her church wouldn’t bury her in their churchyard. Said suicide was a sin.”
    “ When did all this happen?” Cara asks.
    “ Twenty years ago. By the way, my name is Karen,” Joe’s sister says. “If I’m going to be filling you in on Joe’s back story, perhaps we ought to call each other by our first names.”
    “ Cara, nice to meet you. That is by far the most information I’ve ever received from someone whose name I did not know.”
    “ I thought you needed to know, and I think Shannon needs to know.”
    “ Is that really up to us?” Cara asks.
    “ Don’t tell me that you’re upset that I told you.”
    “ I’m not. While in some circles that kind of data dump might be deemed inappropriate, in this compressed world of weekly rentals or monthly visits, I suppose there are different rules.”
    “ Yes there are,” Karen says.
    Karen nods at Shannon and Joe walking a dozen yards ahead.
    “ So what do you think of this? Is it going to be a problem?” Karen asks.
    “ I don’t think so. She’s going back to Ohio in a few days. They’re both adults. But it is interesting to see her finally talking to someone again.”
    “ Oh?”
    “ Yes. Since you’ve been so forthcoming, I suppose I can reciprocate, make this easy for you. This is the first time for her since her divorce. She’s gone on a few dates with people she met on eHarmony or match.com, but just lunch dates, or jogging dates. Nothing serious, no second dates, and certainly no third dates.”
    “ Joe either.”
    “ In twenty years? I imagine he’s had a few dates in that time. He is an attractive single man in a target rich environment.”
    “ Yes, a few, but like you just described, no third dates. He runs, runs his coffee business, picks up trash, does some volunteer work, and that’s about it. Not a lot of dates.”
    “ He is attractive,” Cara says.
    “ Yes. And Shannon is lovely. So lovely that a man was in the coffee shop asking about her the other day,” Joe’s sister says.
    “ A man?”
    “ Yes. From Ohio like you. He didn’t offer that up but I saw his license plates when he went out to the parking lot.”
    “ What did he want to know about my sister? Cara asks.
    “ Just whether I knew the beautiful woman who walked on the beach near