Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84 Page 85 Page 86 Page 87 Page 88 Page 89 Page 90 Page 91 Page 92 Page 93 Page 94 Page 95 Page 96 Page 97 Page 98 Page 99 Page 100What goes on on Monhegan stays … …with you. www.islandinnmonhegan.com - 207.596.0371 Fiction 94 p o r t l a n d monthly magazine hips. Then he drew a long breath, calm- ly picked up the shirt, and began putting it on again, speaking warmly. “I remem- ber the day I bought this shirt. It was rain- ing, hard. I was passing a men’s store on my way to the train and saw it in the window. I stopped right there in the rain and said to myself, ‘Now, that is one hell of a good- looking shirt. I want it and I’m gonna have it.’ Then I marched straight in and told the man, ‘I want that shirt, the one in the win- dow. Get it for me. Now.’ And you know what he said to me, Jill? I’ll never forget.” “‘Get it yourself’?” Bob nodded, smiling. “Very good. Very funny.” “I’m sorry.” She was applying eyeliner now. “What did the man say, Bob?” “Never mind.” “All right.” She drew a line just beneath her eye. “I’ll tell you what he said. And I quote: ‘I can see you’re the kind of man who knows exactly what he wants.’” “Those were his words, Bob? His actu- al words?” “Words to that effect. The point is, I love this shirt. That’s the point I’m trying to make here.” He finished buttoning it. “I love it and I’m going to wear it.” “Please don’t?” she said quietly. He looked at her imploring face in the mirror. “Bob, please?” she said to him. “Oh, honey.” He held out his arms. “Come here. Come here.” She got up and went to him and wept against the shirt. “I hate it, Bob. I hate it so much.” He held her. “I know…I know…” “Tell me you won’t ever wear it.” “I’ll burn it in the yard, Jill. We’ll dance around the flames.” “Just promise you’ll never wear it.” “I promise.” “Thank you.” Sniffling, she began un- buttoning it for him. “By the way. That sto- ry you told about buying it?” “Yeah?” “You made that up, didn’t you.” “Some of it.” “All of it. I bought the shirt, Bob.” She finished unbuttoning it and returned to her dressing table. “I bought it for you last Christmas.” He said quietly, “Oh, yeah.”