That Old Cape Magic

first-rate, though its star, “just between us,” was Joy.
(Oh, you smarmy bastard
, both son and mother concluded in the same instant.) In fact, Ringo wished he had a half dozen more just like her. This fairly ambiguous remark he delivered with such convincing innocence that Griffin wondered if maybe he and Joy
were
just friends. He’d been attentive and solicitous to her all evening, but there was certainly nothing to suggest any intimacy between them, though of course she wouldn’t have permitted such a display at her daughter’s wedding.
    “I wouldn’t bring it up, believe me, but Dean Zabian heard I was going to be seeing you this weekend, and I promised I’d ask if your situation for the coming academic year had clarified itself.”
    It was possible, Griffin supposed, that things had come about just as Fynch claimed. The dean of faculty might well have asked him to inquire. But the far more likely scenario was that Fynch was a sly meddler, an insinuator who’d sought out the dean, not vice versa. Zabian could be forgiven for growing impatient for Griffin to make up his mind, but he more likely would have asked this favor of Joy rather than Ringo. And of course if he
really
wanted to know, the person to ask was Griffin himself.
    “Of course everyone’s hoping you’ll be returning in the fall,” Fynch was saying, “but if you can’t—”
    “I understand,” Griffin said. “Tell Carroll I won’t hang him up much longer.”
    “It’s not like your replacement’s a washout or anything,” Fynch continued, oblivious that he’d been given full permission to discontinue this particular conversation. “The department could probably limp along for another semester or two, but as Dean Zabian put it, ‘She’s no Jack Griffin in the classroom.’”
    Griffin smiled, now certain that he (and his mother) were right about Ringo’s character. The implied omniscience, the overfamiliarity, the flattery… what a putz. He thought of the elderly woman he’d spoken to in Truro this time last year who’d been looking for the right occasion to use
fart-hammer
. Well, here it was.
    With relief, he noticed that a young man wearing a blazer with the hotel’s insignia on the pocket was conferring with Joy, who turned to point him out. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, making a show of taking out his checkbook. At this Ringo turned on his heel and fled, apparently convinced he could provide no further service.
    “Mr. Griffin?” said the young man, who appeared to be holding an invoice. “Maybe we should go someplace more private?”
    He nodded agreeably and let the checkbook slide back into his jacket pocket. “What are we going to do?”
    Turning bright purple, the fellow looked even younger and, Griffin realized too late, clearly gay.
    By the time he’d settled up and returned to the private dining room, the mostly teenaged waitstaff was busy clearing away the last of the dessert dishes and tossing stained tablecloths into portable hampers with more energy and enthusiasm than they’d exhibited earlier in the evening. They probably had a party to go to, Griffin supposed. Hard to believe that Laura herself was past all that now, the anticipation of a young night and its many possibilities. The rehearsal guests had all gone out onto the porch, below which, on the lawn, a drunken game of volleyball was under way, with justenough light from the porch to play by. Andy’s family, many of whom had traveled a long way that day, had evidently decided to call it a night, so it was just Joy’s that remained.
    Harve, looking tired and agitated, sat at the far end of the porch, near the top of the long, sloping wheelchair ramp. He’d nodded off during the later stages of the dinner, though he refused to admit it, even after snorting violently awake, which caused Jared and Jason to reenact the event for the edification of the children at the designated kids’ table, after which they were all snorting awake and falling out of their chairs. The old man was now struggling to get up out of his chair, apparently determined not to be wheeled down the ramp past the volleyballers. Griffin sympathized, though Dot apparently didn’t. With an assist from Joy’s sister Jane, she pushed him back into his seat and told him, unless Griffin was mistaken, to behave. Whatever Harve said back caused her to spin on her heel and head indoors in the general direction of the ladies’ restroom, leaving Jane to reason with her