tacenda
pronunciation | ta - 'chen - da
(noun.) things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence.
their relationship was tacenda, brushed over with a 'we're just friends'
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in which two pogues sit a little too close, laugh a little t...
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Lea sat slumped on the sofa next to Kie, when Pope walked up to John B's porch.
"Okay. So we didn't see anything. We don't know anything. We need to have total and complete amnesia."
Pope sat down next to Lea, who swore under her breath as her coffee spilt.
"Actually Pope's right for once." JJ sat in his armchair, joint in hand. "See I agree with you sometimes. Deny, deny, deny." JJ walked towards John B who stood by the porch stairs.
"Guys we can't keep that money." Kie argued.
"Okay. Not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara."
"Not all of us can get in trouble if we're caught," Lea frowned at JJ. "How would we explain the money?"
The Pogues all drew up blanks.
"We have to pass that off to Lana Grubbs." Kie ignored JJ's comment. "Otherwise it's bad karma."
"Bad karma to be implicated in a felony too." Pope added. "We've got to go dark."
"If that means we get to keep the money, then I agree." JJ looked out of the porch.
"I don't agree." John B patted his shoulder.
"What? Why?" JJ looked confused.
"Just think about it. This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas."
"Did you give him any? " Lea couldn't help but ask, causing John B to shot an annoyed glance her way before continuing.
"We're talking about a dirt-bag marina rat who's never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden he's got a Grady-White? Just saying."
☀️
Pope and JJ threw out their fishing lines as John B and the girls sat on the fence at the bottom of John B's deck.
"Think about it, how does a marina rat get a Grady-White?" John B asked, raising his arms in question.
"Prostitution," Lea offered.
John B's arm went to her stomach as she grabbed onto the fence, holding on for dear life as he tried to shove her over.
"Square groupers, bro," Apart from the attempted shove overboard, John B ignored Lea's suggestion, "Okay, flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that stuff during a hurricane. What does that mean, JJ?"
"They were straight smuggling," JJ called from further up the dock.
"Smuggling," John B confirmed, "and I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband in that wreck."
