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wonderful learning experience for me.”
    â€œMaybe for my husband, too,” murmured Judith, thinking it might teach Joe not to drive so fast. At least not in a dune buggy. “You’re an intern?”
    â€œRight.” He nodded again. “I’ve only been here two weeks. Usually, we’re assigned to larger hospitals, in bigger cities. But Buccaneer Beach is very shorthanded, especially during tourist season. I’m glad, though—it’s a nice place. I feel at home.”
    Judith had felt that way, too, at least until Joe had broken his leg. She exchanged a few more words with Dr. Lundgren, mostly about Joe’s prognosis. The intern had already learned to be reassuring yet vague. Adopting a philosophical attitude, Judith took herself to dinner at a small diner about two blocks from the hospital. She’d save the serious eating for Renie’s arrival.
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    When Judith returned to the hospital shortly before seven, Joe was sleeping like a log. She waited about ten minutes before deciding it was useless to stick around and watch him sleep. Or worse yet, have him awaken and imagine again that she was his ex-wife, Herself. She was reaching for her handbag when the curtain on the other bed was snatched away by a gnarled hand, and a cherubic face beamed at her.
    â€œYou got any with you, sweetheart?” The old man was beaming toothlessly at Judith.
    â€œAny what?” asked Judith, trying to look dignified.
    â€œHooch.” His expression was ingenuous. “I could do with a drink. Haven’t had one in almost a week.” He thrust the gnarled hand in Judith’s direction. “Jake Beezle here. How’s by you?”
    Reluctantly, Judith angled her way around the end of Joe’s bed and shook hands with Jake. “Judith Flynn. My husband’s out of his head.”
    â€œSo am I,” replied Jake cheerfully. His hospital gown had slipped over one bony shoulder. “At least that’s what everybody says.” Jake started to lift the covers. “Want to see my hip replacement?”
    â€œAh…no, thanks,” Judith responded hastily. “I hate blood. And stitches.” She gave Jake a sickly grin. “Nice view,” she said, searching wildly for a change of subject. “Very attractive parking lot.”
    Jake glanced out the window. “Huh? Oh, yeah, sure is, especially when some of them nurses drop something and have to bend over. Heh, heh.” He gave Judith a leer which didn’t quite mesh with his cherubic features. “Is it in your pocketbook?”
    Nervously, Judith looked around. “Oh—my handbag? What?” Jake Beezle had her justifiably confused.
    Jake turned faintly reproachful. “The hooch. I hope it’s bourbon. Back in Prohibition, I used to run Canadian rye down the coast. Good stuff, but not so smooth as Kentucky mash.”
    Judith started backing away. “No hooch, Mr. Beezle. My husband is having delusions. Nice meeting you. I have to meet a train.”
    Jake Beezle chuckled and wheezed. “That’s what they all say, sweetheart. Who’s the engineer—Jack Daniels?” His laughter followed her out into the corridor. Judith was getting tired of fleeing her husband’s hospital room. Marriage wasn’t supposed to be like this , she thought with a helpless sensation.
    But it was still an improvement over the first time around.
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    Renie’s train was fifteen minutes late, which was just as well, since Judith hadn’t taken into account the winding road that led inland from the coast. Neither had she considered the handling of the MG, which she hadn’t yet driven on the open highway. Judith had trouble keeping the sports car under sixty-five, a speed Joe considered cruising.
    Her cousin arrived with two suitcases and a garment bag, insisting that the late June weather was too unpredictable to know what type of clothes to pack.
    â€œSo you brought all