Chapter 4 #3
“Close. I live in Santa Fe, New Mexico,” Caitlin clarified. “My parents have retired to Florida, but my brother, Charlie, lives about an hour north of me. He’s married, and has three children, two boys and a girl.”
“Ah, so you’re a doting auntie,” said Marion with a smile. “But no children of your own?”
Caitlin set her empty teacup in its saucer. “No, no children of my own, and I’m not married,” she stated neutrally, so Marion wouldn’t think being single and childless saddened her, even if it did a little.
“How about a boyfriend?”
“I don’t have one of those, either. Not right now, anyway.” Then, Caitlin surprised herself by telling the older woman about what had happened with Jonathan and Melanie.
“Shame on them both!” Marion exclaimed. “You must have been devastated.”
“I was very angry and hurt initially, but I wouldn’t say I was devastated,” Caitlin assured her. “To be honest, I’m kind of over it already.”
“You’re a lot more gracious than most people would be if someone betrayed them like that.”
“I doubt that graciousness has much to do with it,” Caitlin said with a chuckle, recalling what she’d done to Jonathan’s phone.
“I think it’s easy to put it behind me because I hadn’t been seeing Jonathan for very long, and Melanie and I weren’t that close, either.
So, it’s not as if my soulmate ran off with my best friend or anything. ”
“But they still should have treated you better, especially Jonathan,” Marion remarked. “I’d think the men in Santa Fe would be pounding down the doors to go out with such a lovely woman as yourself.”
“Thank you for saying that, but even if they pounded down my door, I probably wouldn’t be home,” said Caitlin. “I travel a lot locally for work. It keeps me very busy.”
“Don’t tell me what it is you do, let me try to guess,” Marion suggested, tapping her chin. “Let’s see, Lydia always used to say how well you did in school and how fascinated you were with nature. So I imagine you work in the natural science field, or maybe in medicine?”
Her comments made Caitlin shrink inside.
It had been so long since she’d put away her aspiration of becoming a health care professional that she’d almost forgotten all about it.
“No,” she answered. “I’m a capital campaign manager.
I coach nonprofits on how to conduct their annual appeals and secure funding over an extended period of time. ”
Marion’s surprise was apparent in her expression, but her response was a diplomatic, “That sounds very interesting.”
“It is,” Caitlin blandly agreed. Or at least it used to be, when I first started twelve years ago. Lately, she’d been itching for a change. A challenge.
“Helping nonprofit organizations must be rewarding,” prompted Marion. “Is that why you chose that field?”
“Yes,” said Caitlin, even though she hadn’t exactly chosen her career; it was more like she’d stumbled into it.
Teaching other people how to ask for money was an unlikely employment position for someone who preferred to be as self-sufficient as Caitlin was.
So at first, she’d struggled to develop the skills required to succeed in the role.
Now, however, she had the opposite problem, in that she felt like she could conduct the campaigns blindfolded.
But because she was motivated by such a strong commitment—or was it an obligation?
—to “make a positive difference” in the local communities, she remained in the position.
She quickly changed the subject, telling Marion about volunteering at her local food bank. She also mentioned she liked to hike, and she described how different the Santa Fe terrain was from the mountains in New Hampshire or the coast in Massachusetts.
“It sounds beautiful,” said Marion. “Hopefully the warm weather will hold for a while, and you’ll be able to enjoy some nice walks here, too. How long did you say you were staying?”
“I’ll be here for several weeks.” Since Caitlin needed to ask Marion for a recommendation for a carpenter anyway, she figured it was time to tell her about the windmill remodel.
“I mentioned that I’d come to Dune Island to check up on the cottage, but I’m also here to oversee a project that my aunt wanted me to complete. ”
When Caitlin was done explaining about Lydia’s requirement that she convert the windmill loft into a living area, Marion exclaimed, “Oh, that sounds just like Lydia! She worked so hard all summer that our visits were usually quite brief. We’d barely sit down for a cool drink and she’d jump up and say, ‘I’m sorry, I’ve got to run.
But one day when I’m retired, I’m going to install a big picture window in the windmill loft, and I’ll have Albert haul a love seat and a few comfy chairs and ottomans up there so I can put my feet up and watch the tide roll in and out all day if I want.
’ She said I was welcome to join her any time.
” Marion quickly clarified, “Don’t worry, I’m not hinting for an invitation. ”
Caitlin hadn’t realized that Lydia told Marion her dream to one day convert the loft, and after hearing her aunt’s friend reminisce about their conversations, she felt even guiltier confessing that she intended to sell the house.
“You’re very welcome to visit me at the cottage any time, and I’ll be glad to show you the windmill loft after it’s been converted to a living space,” she said. “But I, um, I should let you know that I intend to sell the house once the remodel is complete.”
Marion’s eyes widened with surprise, but her only comment was, “I see.”
“I know it probably seems really greedy of me, but I’ve had some financial challenges lately and?—”
“No need to explain,” Marion interrupted, holding up her hand. “Lydia left the house to you, so your reasons for selling it are your business, not mine—or anyone else’s.”
Caitlin nodded and relaxed her shoulders. “I admit, I do feel kind of protective about my privacy and my plans for the house. You’re the only person on Dune Island I’ve told.”
“I won’t say a word to anyone.”
“Thank you.” Caitlin smiled. “Although there is at least one other person I need to tell—I need to find a carpenter to take on the project. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to get anyone to return my calls.”
“Ah, that’s because most of them have joined the crew for the resort that’s being constructed about a mile south of the harbor in Benjamin’s Manor.
Hard to believe that such a quaint little town is going to be home to a monstrosity like that.
But at least it’s providing job opportunities for the islanders.
” Marion shook her head in dismay. “Anyway, I’d highly recommend the carpenter who worked on my deck last spring.
He refuses to be involved with the construction of the resort on principle—he prefers to remain completely independent.
He’s an all-around great guy and he does excellent work, but he’s only lived on the island a couple of years, so he hasn’t built up a big client base yet. ”
I like the sound of that. Even if she was being overly sensitive, Caitlin preferred to hire someone who wasn’t a die-hard Dune Islander.
Or at least, someone who hadn’t lived on the island when she used to visit.
Someone who didn’t know her or what had happened, and wouldn’t want to discuss it.
“Terrific. If you tell me his name, I’ll look him up. ”
“It’s Shane Adams and I’ll give you his number, too.” Marion enthused, “Trust me, you’re going to love him.”
It took Caitlin until almost 5:00 to work up the courage to call Shane. Although she’d grown comfortable enough to confide in Marion about the project, she still felt hesitant about sharing her plans with anyone else, even a carpenter.
Marion may not be judgmental about me selling the house immediately after Aunt Lydia’s death, but that’s probably because they were friends , she thought.
I know how gossip spreads on Dune Island, and once the residents find out about my plans, everyone will have an opinion…
Even worse, they’ll start gabbing about what happened the last time I was here.
Caitlin decided to ask for Shane’s discretion before she provided any details about the project. If he’s as wonderful as Marion says he is, then he’ll honor my request not to tell anyone about the remodel , she thought as she tapped his number into her phone.
“Hello?” he answered, his voice barely audible over the sound of running water in the background.
“Hi. Is this Shane Adams?”
“Yup, sure is,” he said. “Who’s this?”
Thrown off by his unprofessional tone, Caitlin was suddenly reluctant to tell him her name and she stuttered, “You-you don’t know me. I got your number from a mutual acquaintance—she spoke very highly of you.”
“Oh, did she now?” He chuckled, as if she’d made a joke.
“Yes.” Although I’m starting to question her judgment. “ She suggested you might be available this fall?”
“Available for…?”
Caitlin paused, uncertain how to describe the project without giving away too much information, just in case she decided not to hire him after all. “I need to have a room refinished.”
“Oh! Could you hold on a sec?” He must have turned off a faucet, because suddenly Caitlin didn’t hear the water running any longer. “Sorry, I didn’t realize this was a professional call. I thought you were calling to ask if I’d be interested in going out. You know, on a date.”
“No. That’s the last thing I want!” Caitlin blurted out. Okay, maybe that was overkill. But did he always assume his female clients were interested in going out with him? “I’m looking for a carpenter, not a date.”
He apologized again. “My mistake—I’m very sorry and completely embarrassed.
It’s just that my cousin is constantly trying to set me up.
So when you said a mutual acquaintance gave you my name, and then you asked if I was available, I thought, well, you know…
” He sounded very contrite and Caitlin decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“I guess I can see how you might make that assumption.”
“Yeah, especially since no one calls my landline for business purposes.”
“This is your personal landline?” I guess that explains his unprofessional greeting. Marion must not have realized she’d given me the wrong number.
“Yes. My cell phone connection is iffy, so I have a landline at home for backup. My parents are getting up there in age, and my mom’s had some health problems lately.
So I want to be sure they can reach me at any time of day or night,” he said.
“Not that I could help if there was an emergency—they live in South Carolina now—but at least I could be on the first flight out to see them.”
Shane had shared a lot, virtually all at once, and she got the sense he was flustered.
It was charming, though. And touched by his concern for his family, Caitlin said, “I didn’t realize the number my friend gave me was for your home phone.
If you give me your cell phone number, I can call back during business hours. ”
“Sure, I’ll give it to you for the future, but this is fine for now. I’d like to hear more about your project.”
“Well…” She stalled a moment, unsure how to describe it without mentioning the windmill.
“If you’re having second thoughts about hiring me, I understand. But I promise I’m a lot more professional than I came across just now.”
“No, no, it’s not that,” she said. “But before I go into detail, I should confirm that you’re actually available—for the project, I mean. Ideally, I’d love it if you could get started right away and finish it before the holidays.”
“Yeah, I’ve got some openings in my schedule.
But before I can commit to a timeline for the project, I need to hear more about it.
And I’ll need to come take a look at the space, give you an estimate and all that.
What’s the address? I could stop by tomorrow afternoon and we can chat about it then. ”
“That would be great, but there’s just one more thing,” hedged Caitlin. “I, um, I have a kind of unusual request. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about the project, or even that I’m here visiting the island…”
“That’s not such an unusual request.” Shane assured her, “Discretion’s the name of the game in this business, especially with so many celebrities and politicians buying property and building or renovating homes on the island.
You have my word, I won’t mention any specifics about you or your project to anyone else. ”
“Thanks.” Caitlin gave him the address.
“Hey, I know that location—that’s where the windmill house is,” he said, which was how people often referred to Lydia’s place. “No wonder you don’t want anyone to know you’re on the island or what your remodeling plans are. The locals would really give you an earful.”
Caitlin’s heart sank. He knew about her history? “Wh-what?”
“That place is an iconic landmark. If the residents find out you’re going to alter it, even if it’s just painting the doors a different color, they’ll start spouting off their opinions…”
Relieved, Caitlin said, “Right, exactly.”
“Like I said, mum’s the word,” he promised. “But if you’re not too worried I’ll blow your cover, can you at least tell me your first name?”
She giggled at his light-hearted teasing. “Sure, of course. I’m Caitlin. Caitlin Hines.”
“I’ll stop by around two o’clock, Caitlin—if that’s okay with you?”
“Sounds good,” she said. “I’m looking forward to it.”
The next morning, Caitlin decided that there was no putting it off any longer: she needed to go inside the windmill before Shane arrived.
For one thing, the maintenance crew stored lawn equipment for the property there, and Caitlin wanted to be sure it wasn’t blocking access to the loft stairs.
More importantly, she was concerned about how she’d react to being back in the windmill, and she didn’t want to risk becoming emotional in front of a stranger.
It’s better if I’m by myself the first time I go inside , she thought as she unlocked the padlock. Although I’m probably worried for nothing.
But when she pushed open the door and entered the dim interior, the familiar earthy scent of wood filled her nostrils and she felt as if she’d just stepped back in time.