"Yes, sir. Thank you," Reese replied.

"Speaking of kidsdid mine show up at your place for her class this morning?"

"Yes, she did."

"On time?"

"She was early."

"Good. I thought she must either have been up and out early, or that she slept through it. She didnt answer when I knocked on her door this morning."

Reese was pretty sure that Brianna hadnt been home at all the night before, and she was uncomfortable keeping that from her boss, a man she was coming to like. On the other hand, Brianna wasnt exactly a child, and Reese felt she owed her the chance to work things out with her father in her own way. At least for the time being she had given her word to keep silent. Besides, she was fairly certain she could keep an eye on Briannas nighttime excursions, now that she was aware of them. She said nothing.

"She do okay?" he asked gruffly. He felt like he knew less and less about his daughter with each passing day. They didnt talk as they used to when she was small, when he seemed to have all the answers to her endless questions. Now he didnt have a clue as to what motivated his only child, or what might make her happy. He couldnt help but think that if his wife were still alive, she would know what to do with his headstrong offspring.

"She did very well."

"Yeah?" he said with a smile of pride. "Good."

"Whos out on traffic?" Reese asked, not wanting to linger on the topic of Brianna. "Jeff?"

"Yeah. Things wont get busy until eleven or so when the tour buses start arriving."

"Im going to catch up on some paper work then, and go out around noon. That okay?"

"Sure. I have to be at the town meeting at ten. Theres likely to be some heat over the move to build that condo unit out at the end of six. The mayor wants me to talk about the manpower shortage, and more tourist influx. Same old story."

"Gladys coming in for the phones?"

"Eleven till five."

"Right," Reese said, pulling a stack of evaluation forms, payroll vouchers, and other employee paperwork in front of her. "Ill catch up with you at town hall then."

Nelson Parker nodded and tossed a wave as he headed out the door.

Reese left several hours later, leaving her patrol car at Town Hall and walking west along Commercial to get lunch at the deli. She carried her sandwich to a small sitting area behind the Galleria, a collection of shops catering to the tastes of quick stop tourists who wanted a piece of "authentic" Cape Cod memorabilia. The deck in the rear was equipped with picnic tables and a great view of the harbor. Reese sat on the bench with her back to the table so she could watch the tide on its way out. The site and smell of the water settled her in some deep way that she had no words for. She only knew she would never live far from the ocean again.

She glanced east along the shore, trying to pick out her mother's studio. An image of her mother and father and her on one of their rare family outings to the beach came to her. It hadn't been too long before her mother left. She had never asked him about her mother, had never tried to find herbefore now. She wondered why that had been. Her father and she were as close as a stern, reserved man and a solitary, private daughter could be. She respected him, even if she did not always agree with him, and he was proud of her accomplishments. He was deeply disappointed when she left active duty, even though she remained in the reserves, and they had not spoken since her move to Provincetown. He did not know she had contacted her mother; she wasnt even sure he knew that his ex-wife lived here. Reese knew she needed to call him soon, but she wasnt sure quite what to say.

That thought brought Brianna Parker to mind, and the rift that seemed to be growing between her and Nelson. Maybe part of it was the inherent differences between fathers and daughters, like men and women, but Reese knew that for Brianna it was much more than thatthere was the complication of her sexuality to be dealt with. If she were to help Brianna in any real way, she needed to know more about that.

She stood, adjusted her cap against the suns glare, and moved quickly through the crowded aisle back to the street. A few minutes later she was at the gym.

Marge greeted her with a grin. "Hey youanything new?"

"Nope," Reese replied, grinning back. "But I would like to talk to you. Can you get away sometime this afternoon?"

"How about now? Annies hereshe can watch the place. Is this business or pleasure?"

"Lets say its personal," Reese responded.

"Damn! Youre a tough woman to get information out of!"

Reese nodded toward the door. "Come on. Lets take a walk."

They joined the crowds, and started toward the far west end of Commercial Street. There the narrow one-way road joined the confluence of six A and Route six at the jetty that led to Long Point. They didnt say much until they had settled on the same bench where Reese and Victoria King had sat the previous day. Reese scanned the narrow, treacherous walkway, amazed once again that Tory had braved it.

"So, whats up?" Marge asked, startling Reese for a second.

Reese pushed the image of Victoria Kings face from her mind.

"Did you know that you were a lesbian when you were a teenager?"

"I had a pretty good idea," Marge answered.

"How did you handle it?"

"I tried to kill myself," Marge said after a moment.

Reese stared at her intently, her chest tight, sorrow for Marges pain mixed with rage at a world that would drive a young person to such desperation. Her jaw clenched while she searched for words. "Can you tell me about it?" she asked at last.

Marge gazed out to the ocean, lost in memory.

"It wasnt quite as dramatic as you might imagine. I grew up in a little town in the middle of nowhere. My parents were good, hardworking people without much imagination. I was a surprise, you might say. From the time I was small I preferred boys clothes, boys games, boys toys. All I wanted for my birthday was a six-shooter and a pair of jeans. My parents thought if they bought me dolls, I would forget about the guns. It didnt work. By the time I was ten, I was in love with the rec director at the playground down the street. She was tough and taught the girls to play baseball, and if I got there before everyone else, she would play catch with me. I got there early every day for an entire summer. By twelve I had a special girlfriend I would gladly have died for. We went everywhere together, spent every night in one anothers houses, and slept over with each other frequently. We never touchednot in a sexual way, but there was no doubt that I loved her in the way boys and girls do. Our friendship lasted into highschool. One day, when we were sixteen, she told me she had been to bed with her boyfriend. Up until then, we had both dated, but no one had ever come between us. At that moment, my life changed forever. I knew then that she didnt feel what I felt, and never would. She was no longer mine, in the deepest part of herself, the way she had been. It broke my heart, and there was no one to tell."

Marge paused, and Reese could see the pain of memory etched in the lines around her mouth.

"Im sorry," Reese began, knowing there were no words to heal this particular sorrow.

Marge shook her head. "It was a long time ago, but it was probably the greatest pain of my life. I had no idea what was to become of me. It felt like everything beautiful in my life disappeared. My innocence certainly died. I couldnt stand the pain, and I knew I felt the way I did because I was somehow very different from my girlfriends. I had no name for it, except "Queer," and I knew that was not a good thing to be. So, I started to drink, and managed to stay drunk through my last year in highschool. Thats what I meant when I said I tried to kill myself. It wasnt pretty, but it was very nearly effective."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, shaking off the vestiges of the past. Turning questioning eyes to Reese, she asked, "What made you ask?"

"A girl," Reese said. "A girl who cant tell her father shes in love with another girl. She acts pretty tough, but I get the feeling shes scared. Mostly scared that someone will keep them apart, I think. Im trying to understand what thats like."

"Why?" Marge asked, not with censure, but with true curiosity. "What makes you care?"

Reese shrugged. "I have a feeling shes not the only kid in town in this situation, Provincetown being what it is. She says she has no where to go to be with her girlfriend. I need to understand what life is like for these kids if Im going to interact with them fairly."

"Theyre not like other kids, Reese. They have to fight hard to survive. Most of the time the whole world tells them they shouldnt be the way they are. They shouldnt dress the way they do, they shouldnt enjoy the things they do, and God knows, they shouldnt love the way they do. The boys get beat up, or they act out sexually all over the place in unsafe ways, and more often than not, the girls who admit to themselves what they feel end up leaving school or underachieving. If theyre not being self-destructive with drugs or alcohol, theyre getting into trouble some other way. Youll do them more harm than good if you try to prevent them from being who they are. Thats about all they have."

"I cant let them have sex in dark alleys or under the pier!"

"Why not?"

"Because its not safe! If I cant see them, I cant protect them! If a group of redneck toughs stumbles across two boys, or two girls for that matter, making out in some dark corner, they could do them real damage!"

Marge nodded in reluctant agreement. "Youve got a point, but there isnt much you can do about it. They have to be together somewhere, and most likely it wont be at parties, or dances, or at each others homes the way it is for straight kids. These kids feel like outcasts, and just about everything they see and hear reinforces that. They dont have much alternative to the dunes or the piers if they want privacy."

"A coffee house?"

"Good idea, but you have to remember that although Provincetown looks like the center of the gay world, most of these lesbians and gay boys dont live here. After the season ends, this town is about as prejudiced as any other. And the few gay kids arent going to want to make any public announcements, I wouldnt imagine."

"But at least for the four or five months of the season they can blend in a little," Reese observed, beginning to see the dilemma Brianna and her girlfriend faced. "Isnt there some place these kids can go?"

Marge nodded. "Theres a little hole in the wall out on Shank Painter Road that caters to the kids. The music is god-awful, and the foods even worse, but at least theyre welcome there. A couple of old queens own the place. They dont sell alcohol until ten oclock at night, which is how they get around having under age kids in the bar."

"Thats just up the road from the station," Reese remarked, wondering if Nelson Parker gave the place any thought. He certainly hadnt mentioned it to her as place she ought to keep an eye on.

"Yeah. I think theyre calling it The Lavender Lounge this year."

"Thanks, Marge. The information helps. I didnt know about this place. Ill have to drop by."

"Reese," Marge warned, "if you go in there looking like a cop, youre going to scare some kids away. They dont have much as it is."

"Point taken," Reese remarked. "Ill go in disguise."

" Yeah , right. With that build, and that walk, she just about screams "cop." Marge chuckled. "Try to blend in. Better yet, take a date."

"Are you volunteering?"

"Hell no. Then youd just be more obvious," she laughed. She grew thoughtful, then suggested, "Why dont you ask the doc! She can interpret for you."

"I hardly think I need a guide," Reese said, uncomfortable with the conversation suddenly.

"I just meant, shes a lesbian, and shes good with the kids," Marge said, not missing her friends discomfort. "Hey, Reese! Did you ever have a crush on one of your girlfriends?"

Reese stood abruptly, her face expressionless. "I didnt have any girlfriends. All my friends were Marines."

As Marge joined her for the walk back to town, she wondered about the strange life her new friend had lived.


Chapter Eleven

"Reeseyou there?"

Reese fingered the button on the microphone clipped to her shirt.

"I copy, Gladys."

"See the couple at the Lobster Pot theres a child missing."

"Ten-four," Reese said curtly as she began to hurry the few blocks to the restaurant. It was not unusual for children to wander away from their parents, but it was always cause for concern. Traffic was heavy and unpredictable, and with the miles of beachfront, the water posed a very real danger as well. She found anxious parents and a boy who looked to be about ten waiting for her.