Epilogue
The Bar Harbor Gazette was thick with ads this week, even in mid-September. Scout smiled as she flipped through it. Good for Chase. She was happy for him. And even happier that she’d ended things with him when she did.
Dad had been right. Chase was just like him, and if she had chosen him, she’d be living her mother’s life—perpetually disappointed, often forgotten, left alone.
Summer wasn’t quite over, but the crowds had started to thin in Acadia.
Kids like Frankie and Maisie had gone off to school, and the crisp bite in the morning air hinted at autumn’s approach.
And Scout was still here, in Acadia. Not packing her bags.
Not banished to the far reaches of Gates of the Arctic in Alaska.
The superintendent had reassigned her—not out of the park, but into a new role, starting next Monday, the first day of fall. Scout was now the interpretive ranger for Indigenous peoples of Acadia.
Her mind buzzed with ideas, like events to feature local artists and musicians and craftsmen. Partnerships with the Abbe Museum to expand programming. And she was particularly excited about a speaker series. First up: Wabanaki Dana, public policy advisor for the Penobscot Nation.
She smiled, thinking of Naki. When not working, they spent every spare minute together.
She was trying to learn his language, and she knew her Southern accent didn’t help.
His father laughed and laughed whenever she attempted a phrase—not in a mean way, just pure amusement.
He wasn’t as intimidating as she’d once thought.
Not exactly a teddy bear, but not terrifying either.
And Naki was getting used to sweet tea and pimento cheese—two things that would be in great supply at the annual Say Goodbye to Summer party, held every year on the last weekend before autumn by Mother’s dearest friend Donna.
Scout had the entire weekend off—her first since Memorial Day—and planned to fly to Atlanta with Dad for it.
Mother was over the moon.
Somehow, Mother and Dad were still speaking, despite living a thousand miles apart. They seemed more accepting of each other’s limitations, but Scout wasn’t holding her breath. Whatever happened with those two, she wasn’t going to lose touch with her dad. Never again.
And then Naki had surprised her. He said he wanted to go to Atlanta too.
Looking at her in that certain way of his, soft and tender, a look she had come to realize was just for her, he told her that he wanted to see where she’d grown up, to get a sense of her world. As she had done for him, he said.
Scout had been gobsmacked. Thrilled!
Mother was less so by the news. She’d been trying to decide how to introduce Naki to her friends. “I’ve settled on ‘gentleman caller,’” she said last night on a phone call.
Scout didn’t bother holding back a sigh. “Well, Naki is a gentleman. But why not just tell them the truth?”
“Which is . . . ?” her mother said in a flat voice.
“That this is the man who makes your daughter happy.”
That ended the conversation.
Scout glanced at her phone. Time to catch the Village Green bus to meet Dad and Naki and head to the airport.
She checked the mirror one last time, retied her pink hair ribbon, picked up her weekend backpack (different from her typical day pack), and glanced around at her little cabin.
She was already looking forward to coming home on Sunday night.
Because this place—Acadia—was exactly where she was meant to be.