Chapter 9
When Rex called Maddie later in the evening, he said he’d love to head up-island and see how they were settling back into the cottage.
Maddie sighed. “Don’t bother.” She gave him the rundown of how she and Joe had trimmed the tree, though her heart had barely been in it. “I just dropped Joe off,” she continued, “and I’m driving back to the place Grandma hates.”
“And Rafe?”
She smiled as if he could see her. “He elected to stay at the cabin so she won’t be alone.”
“But you’ll be alone? Is that an invitation?”
Maddie laughed. “Well …” She wasn’t sure if she was ready for anyone to walk in on them. “If I went to Edgartown there’d be less chance of Grandma showing up at midnight if she has a change of heart.”
“How soon can you get here?”
“That depends on if you have a spare toothbrush.”
“I’ll find one. Or I’ll use a vegetable brush from the kitchen, and you can use mine.”
“Sounds like something I wouldn’t want to miss.”
After hanging up, Maddie steered onto the shoulder of the road and texted Rafe: I’M GOING TO SPEND THE NIGHT WITH FRIENDS IN EDGARTOWN.
He quickly responded: COOL. SEE YOU TOMORROW—JOE AND I ARE GOING SCALLOPING AT DAWN!
All of which was why, the next morning, Maddie was not sitting alone at the new marble-topped, walnut-based table in Grandma’s cottage enjoying a late breakfast while admiring the dressed-up Christmas tree.
Instead, she was under the covers of Rex’s king-size bed down-island, where she’d happily been all night.
Nicest of all, was that last night Rex admitted that until they’d gone to the Cape, he’d been keeping his distance from her because he did not want to just be friends.
Maddie no longer wanted distance, either, so she moved closer now, tucking her head onto his shoulder. “Have I told you I like being here?”
“That depends. Do you mean ‘here’ as on the Vineyard or ‘here’ in bed with me?”
“Both.”
“Huh,” he said, toying with her hair. “Imagine that. So … will you be okay if I go away for a few days?”
A warning of intuition pinched her heart.
She stopped herself from saying, “No, I won’t be okay if you go away.
” Right then, she did not even want him to get out of bed.
So she chewed her lower lip and reminded herself not to have expectations.
Wasn’t that what she wanted? So she squared her jaw and, trying to sound playful, said, “It depends. How long is a few days?”
“Six.”
“Hmm. How far?” Maybe there was a restaurant convention in Boston, or even better, on the Cape. Maybe he’d want her to join him …
“California,” she heard him say while she was musing. “We’re leaving New Year’s Day.”
She winced. She wanted things to keep blossoming between them—as they finally were. But why … California? And who were the “we”? At this stage of their relationship, were questions like that appropriate … or too intrusive?
“I’m going with Kevin,” he added before she could ask. “And Francine and Jonas and their kids.”
Francine managed the Vineyard Inn over on Chappaquiddick; she and her husband, Jonas, were Rex’s friends, family by choice if not by blood. They were young, with two small kids, and Maddie loved their company.
She relaxed. “Should I feel left out?” she quietly asked.
“Nope. I’m only going because Taylor backed out.
” Taylor was Rex’s sister and Kevin’s wife, who seemed to cancel a lot of things, or maybe never wanted to do them in the first place.
“She hates flying,” he continued, “so I’m taking her place.
The restaurant will be closed until Valentine’s Day—hooray—so I won’t have to worry about that. ”
“Well,” Maddie said, “at least you’ll be somewhere warm. I’m sure you’ll have fun.” Despite a pang of envy, she didn’t pry into why the heck they were going all the way across the country.
“We’re going to see Kevin’s sister, Annie,” he added, as if he’d read her mind again. “She’s the writer who owns part of the Vineyard Inn on Chappy. She’s also the one who backed me so I could buy the Lord James. I told you she lives out there now, right?”
“Yes, you did.” She wondered if Annie was the mystery investor he’d mentioned that possibly could help fund the bookshop. Lucky for Maddie, he’d also told her there was no romance—never had been—between Annie and him.
“Anyway, I’ll be back before you know it. Meanwhile, I hope you’ll forgive me when I tell you why I was so eager to see you last night. Not counting the sleeping part.” He turned onto his side, their eyes inches apart. “But it’s something that might change your life.”
She tensed. “What could possibly be better than what we’re doing right here, right now?”
“Well, okay. Nothing could be better than this.” He toyed with her hair again. “But how about something else? A friend of a friend swore me to secrecy. But Arnie’s is moving closer to being yours. If you still want it.”
Maddie blinked. “You’re joking.”
He gently stroked her cheek. “I don’t joke about stuff like this.
You have a couple more hurdles. There’s competition—only one is in the running, an art gallery, I think, but the guy who wants to do it is pretty young—and the Planning Board is waiting for the results of the structural study, which they should have any day. Otherwise, it looks hopeful.”
She turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “Wow. I’m stunned. I didn’t really dream that the town fathers would want a washashore to be in such a great location.”
“Not every washashore has a couple of non-washashores in their corner.”
“You mean you,” she said. “They don’t have you.”
“And Joe.”
Maddie slid up from the covers, pulling the sheet around her. “Joe?”
Rex nodded. “He called a while back and said Nancy told him about your idea, which, unlike her, he thinks is great. So I asked him to go with me when I brought a batch of scones to the town hall. But before you think I tried bribing them with pastry, it’s something I like to do now and again.
I do own property up-island, if you recall.
Anyway, Joe told the Board president—who happened to be there and who I’ve happened to know for years—that you’re more than capable of putting together a successful business for up-island.
He also mentioned that you’re Wampanoag. ”
Before she could respond, Rex reached up and rubbed her back.
“So what do you think? Are you prepared to invest your time and money—it will take lots of both—and your future on this island? Can we start spreading the news? And can I tell your grandmother it’s okay with you that she moved back into her old bedroom? ”
Maddie winced. “What?”
“She called this morning while you were still asleep. She said she was freezing in the cabin and wanted to go home. Personally, I think your son had something to do with her change of heart.”
Maddie laughed. “Please say you didn’t tell her I was here.”
“Let’s put it this way. This morning, while it was still dark, Rafe moved her stuff—and her—back into the cottage.
She noticed you weren’t there. Rafe said you were at a friend’s in Edgartown, but, as you know, our Nancy’s pretty sharp.
So when she called she asked me if you’d been with me all night.
I didn’t reply. Which was when she said you’d better not do anything stupid like get married and then change your mind. ” He grinned.
“Argh!” Maddie cried. “You drive me crazy, Rex Winsted.” At least when she’d texted Rafe last night, he hadn’t pried. In truth, he’d seemed more excited to tell her that he and Joe were going scalloping at dawn.
“I’m supposed to drive you crazy,” Rex said with a chuckle. Then he leaned over and kissed her.
In spite of her stomach tumbling again, Maddie kissed him back. Then she realized, this time the sensation inside her likely wasn’t butterflies at all, but premenstrual cramps. “Hold that thought until I return,” she said, grabbing her purse and making her way to the bathroom.
After closing the door behind her, Maddie leaned against the sink.
The bookshop might happen, it really might.
Her father would soon be there for Christmas and, apparently, Grandma would, too.
She would hug Grandma. And yes, she would tell her father and Rafe about her plans.
Her father would be happy; Rafe would be ecstatic; and Grandma would get over her snit as long as Rafe was there.
Best of all, the family would be together again in the beautiful “new” cottage Grandma would come to love, if it was the last thing Maddie did.
Removing a tampon from her purse, Maddie quickly checked herself. She fully expected she was bleeding. But she was not.
Steadying herself on the marble counter of the vanity, she knew she’d been so busy she hadn’t been paying attention to her body. Except to know that in the past year, the timing of her periods wasn’t always predictable.
Then she realized what the godawful problem was.
And that it wasn’t fair.
She’d finally found a man who was special and seemed to care about her—and her interests—and who looked like he might stick around.
On top of that, they had wonderful sex. But now, dear God, her hormones, along with her uterus, were drying up.
Her time had come for the dreaded menopause.
Which meant her physical desires were on the verge of shutting down. Soon they would be done. Over. Finito.
Oh, sure, she might have her little bookshop. She’d have her family and a new life. But without the ability to have a real relationship—including the physical part—would she be able to love completely?
With the kind of self-pity Maddie detested, she grasped her stomach, hung her head, and thought, Sometimes life really sucks.
Standing in Rex’s bathroom, staring into the mirror, Maddie reminded herself that next year she’d be forty-six. But wasn’t that too young for menopause? Or for perimenopause—its precursor?
She leaned closer to the glass, searching but not seeing any wrinkles, sags, or other vicious signs of getting old.
She missed her friends back in Green Hills.
If only she had an island friend, a woman her age who might be going through the same thing.
But the only females she knew either were too old or not old enough.
Then another horrid thought surfaced: hot flashes.
When she’d still been teaching full time at the college, she’d shared an office with a professor named Gwen.
A decade older than Maddie, Gwen had worn short-sleeved shirts for two long winters and opened the windows, welcoming the icy air.
Other than a rare negative comment about her students, the cost of living, or life in general, Gwen never shared personal issues.
But the reason behind the flush that often laced her cheeks, and the fact that she often fanned herself with whatever textbook was within reach, clearly announced her condition.
Lifting her chin now, Maddie wondered how long it would be before she developed puckery skin, and if her neck would be the first to go.
Rex was older than she was, but so far, his skin was fine.
Of course, he was a man, and from what she’d also witnessed at the college, men tended to escape a major downturn at middle age, often becoming more handsome, until later when they nosedived into old age all at once.
And how would Rex react? Would he still want to be with her if she couldn’t match his bedroom enthusiasm? He was attentive, but had he been around a woman during what Grandma once distastefully referred to as “the change”?
Maddie puffed her cheeks and pushed out a burst of air.
Then—yay!—her senses kicked in: Rex’s sister, Taylor!
If she was older than Maddie, it wasn’t by much.
They’d met a few times; Taylor was, after all, married to Kevin, the genius contractor.
Could Maddie foster a friendship with her and find out if she’d already experienced the inevitable?
As a bonus, since Maddie hadn’t yet seen an island gynecologist, maybe Taylor could steer her to one.
It might be awkward to ask Rex how she could befriend his sister, so maybe they could get together with Taylor and Kevin during the holidays.
Would that seem contrived? Then Maddie remembered that the holidays included New Year’s Eve.
She could have a party and show off the cottage restoration.
It would be only natural for the contractor—and his wife—to be invited. Unless Taylor backed out of that, too.
“Hey!”
Maddie flinched as Rex called to her from the other side of the bathroom door. “Are you okay in there?”
“Great!” she said. “Never better!” After all, Maddie always found it easier to tackle any problem once she had a plan.
Splashing water on her face, and then running her fingers through her hair, it occurred to her that what she’d thought were cramps were gone now. Which was good. Because she now had a bookshop to think about … and a party to organize. And maybe menopause wouldn’t turn out to be so bad.