Chapter Eleven
A “rescued lost dog” has been released back into the wild by the Maine Warden Service after it was confirmed to be a coyote. Officials would like to remind residents to call local authorities to report potential lost dog sightings.
—Local news post shared to Wayward Harbor Online Community Group
Lucy had gotten in the habit of stopping at the Scuttlebutt before work to top up on caffeine and some baked goods, but mostly to visit with Willow.
She missed having somebody to chat with.
Over the last couple of weeks since starting at the Keel, she hadn’t gotten to see much of Nick.
Most days he’d already left for work when she got up, and he went to bed about an hour after she got home.
Even if he showed up at the bar for supper, it was different talking while people were looking at them.
Today was Tuesday, so Lucy had the day off.
But she’d still driven into town just to have the company of a friend.
And when Willow was busy with a customer, brewing more coffee or checking on things back in the kitchen, she would pull her notebook out of her tote and work on ideas for fun cocktails and shots.
Movement beyond the glass snagged her attention—a tall woman with curly red hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.
For a second, Lucy thought she’d caught her own reflection in the window at a weird angle, but then the reflection turned and looked over her shoulder, and she realized it was a woman on the sidewalk.
And Lucy would have bet the cranberry orange scone sitting in front of her that this was the woman people kept confusing her with.
When the door opened and the woman stepped in, Lucy looked down at her notebook, though she watched the woman in her peripheral vision. They really did look a lot alike, though the other woman was a few years older and her hair was a more subtle shade of red.
She listened to Willow taking her order—just a coffee—and was about to take a bite of her scone when the woman walked directly to where she was sitting.
“You’re Iris Macauley’s daughter, right?”
“Yes. Helen’s granddaughter.” Lucy tried to keep her voice light, but the Iris thing was getting old.
Though, it was better than the Fairee thing, she had to admit.
“I’m Taylor Perkins.”
“I’m guessing you’re the woman people keep mistaking me for.”
Taylor smiled, but her lips were tight and the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “My hair’s a little darker than yours, but it’s hard to miss, I guess. Do you mind if I sit with you for a minute?”
Lucy wasn’t getting the friendly extrovert who wanted to make a new friend vibe, but she nodded and tucked her notebook away in her bag.
Taylor set her coffee and napkin down on the table before pulling out a chair.
Her body was stiff, and she immediately started smoothing the napkin as though trying to decide what to say.
“How old are you?” she blurted out.
Lucy sat up straight, frowning. It was kind of a personal question, even for a getting-to-know-you conversation, but especially asked in such an abrupt way. “I’ll be thirty in three weeks.”
Taylor nodded, and then inhaled sharply as if steeling herself to do something unpleasant. “And who’s your father?”
Oh no. No, no, no. “I don’t know. He’s not on my birth certificate, and my mother does not talk about it.”
“I’m sorry.” She picked up the napkin, twisting it nervously. “This is so awkward.”
“It’s been awkward for a bit now, so we may as well keep going,” Lucy said, because she needed to know exactly what Taylor was fishing for.
“I remember, when I was four or five, my parents fought a lot. I know it’s normal for most parents to argue, but not mine.
They were really quiet people. And these were bad fights.
I don’t know if they actually split up for a while, but I do remember my dad not being around a lot and my mom crying. ”
Lucy’s skin prickled, and her fingers tightened around the handle of her coffee mug. She knew she should say something because Taylor was obviously struggling to come up with the next step in the conversation, but she couldn’t find words that made sense.
Does my father live here in Wayward Harbor?
Does Helen know?
Does Nick know?
“My dad passed away about five years ago, from a heart attack,” Taylor said softly.
Emotions flashed through Lucy’s mind.
Mourning a man she’d never met. Sorrow for Taylor. Anger at Iris. At the man who might have been her father and didn’t claim her. At Helen, if she knew and kept it from her. Loss.
So much loss.
“But I think you might be my sister,” Taylor said, and from the way she dropped the napkin and exhaled, Lucy knew that was what she’d come to say.
But she couldn’t be done talking. All she’d done was bury Lucy in questions she may never get answers to.
“What was his name?” she asked, because that, at least, she should know.
“John Perkins, but he was a junior, so everybody called him Jack.”
Jack Perkins. It didn’t ring any bells. She couldn’t remember either her mother or grandmother ever saying the name.
“I was born in Rhode Island,” Lucy said quietly. “There’s no father on my birth certificate, and Iris said I didn’t need one and refused to say more.”
“I remember once, when I was a teenager, my mom and I came here—well, it was her aunt’s then—and I was super bored.
You and Willow were getting snacks to take to the beach, and I wanted to go.
Willow’s younger than me, but we used to hang out sometimes because it’s not a big town, you know?
But my mom—she was so angry and dragged me out of there. Said I had stuff to do at home.”
When she paused, Lucy knew she should say something. But her mind was spinning and her heart ached, and there didn’t seem to be any words left inside of her.
“There’s been a weird vibe since you came to town,” Taylor said, and that was something Lucy could agree with. “More sneaky gossip than usual. At first I thought it was because of that whole thing in Las Vegas, but my mom’s been… Well, she’s been angry again.”
“Do you have a photo of her on your phone?” Lucy didn’t know why it mattered, but Taylor pulled up a photo of a dark-haired woman taken at some kind of cookout. Sure enough, it was the judgy woman from the Keel. “Oh, yeah. She does not like me. At least now I know why, I guess.”
“I’m so sorry to just spring this on you.” Tears glittered in Taylor’s eyes. “It’s just been so hard knowing you’re in Wayward Harbor, and then I saw you sitting in the window. It was a little spur-of-the-moment.”
“It’s a lot,” Lucy said in the understatement of the year. “But I’m glad you told me. It’s explains a lot about how I haven’t found this warm and welcoming small town so warm and welcoming.”
“I don’t think that many people know, actually. Your mom—I’m sorry, but your mom made a lot of wives and girlfriends angry, if you know what I mean.”
Lucy knew exactly what she meant, and it didn’t surprise her to hear it. But she wasn’t going to trash her own mother to a stranger, so she kept her mouth shut.
Taylor dug in her purse and pulled out an old receipt and a pen.
After scrawling her number on it, she slid it over to Lucy.
“I’d love to talk more after you’ve had some time to process things.
I’ll be honest—my mom would lose her mind if she knew I was doing this, but…
it’s about me. And you. If you want to know for sure, I think we can do the DNA thing really easily through the mail, but I’d just really like to have a sister. ”
A tear slid over Lucy’s cheek as she stared into eyes that were hazel instead of blue, but still looked similar to hers. “I think I’d like that, too.”
Taylor picked up her coffee and left without saying another word. Lucy had lost her appetite for the scone, but she picked up Taylor’s number. After taking a photo with her phone to ensure she couldn’t lose it, she tucked the receipt into her notebook.
Willow, who was busy putting a fresh batch of cookies into the pastry case, must have heard it all because concern was written all over her face. “Are you okay?”
“Not really,” she said. “I need to go.”
“I’m here if you need me.”
During the entire drive back to the cottage, the only thought pounding through her brain was that her grandmother had to know.
She knew Helen was on her cruise, and she glanced at the list of her planned excursions on the fridge as she walked to the couch.
Maybe she wouldn’t be able to get hold of her.
If not, she wouldn’t leave a voicemail because it would only worry Gran.
She’d try a video call, and if Helen picked up, good. If not, she’d have to wait.
She got lucky, though. Her grandmother was smiling when she accepted the call, but as soon as she registered Lucy’s face on her screen, the smile faded. “Honey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“I had coffee with my sister today.”
Helen was speechless for a few seconds, her lips parted, but she rallied quickly. “Okay, honey. Just let me find a quiet bench and dig my ear things out of my bag.”
Lucy usually would have smiled at the use of “ear things” but she didn’t have it in her at the moment.
She just waited silently while Helen found a relatively private spot and located her AirPods.
In hindsight, blindsiding her grandmother with this call hadn’t been a great idea, but she hadn’t thought to text her and ask for a return call when she was alone.
Even if she had, Helen probably would have ended up on the same bench, worried and unable to wait.
“Did Taylor tell you?” Helen asked once her AirPods were connected.
“Yes, Taylor told me. And I got my entire life turned upside down at a haunted scone shop because nobody else ever told me. Not Iris. Not Nick. And not you. I was literally the only person in this town who didn’t know.”