Ronan O’Malley, 62, retired commercial salmon fisherman, leans against a splintered picnic table at the Astoria summer community fair and scowls at his niece. She’s been badgering him for 20 minutes to say hi to a widow from her church who “loves old fishing stories” and he’s three sips into a cold IPA and half a second from lying about a sudden migraine to head home. The air reeks of fried dough, charcoal from the rib cookoff, and sharp salt off the Columbia River, which churns grey and choppy 50 yards away. The Ferris wheel creaks overhead, kids scream as they hit the top of the tilt-a-whirl, and the scratch of a local country band’s fiddle drifts from the main stage.
He’s adjusting the frayed cuff of his plaid flannel (he wears it even in 75 degree weather, hides the arthritis swelling in his wrists) when a woman trips over a loose cinder block at the edge of the picnic area. She’s carrying a paper plate stacked with elephant ears, and a cloud of powdered sugar puffs off the top, landing in a white dusting across the front of his shirt. Her hand flies to his chest before she can stop herself, brushing at the sugar, and Ronan freezes. He recognizes her immediately: Clara Bennett, 54, ex-wife of his old fishing partner Jake, who ran off with a 28 year old bartender from Seaside 10 years prior and left Ronan holding the bag on a $40,000 boat repair loan.