Chapter 23
Maddie’s days were spent with bar charts and projections and too many hours of screen time, and—while juggling sharing her father’s car—running a billion errands.
In the evenings, she read some of the books they’d sell, so she’d be better able to recommend titles to customers, per her dad’s suggestion.
In between the chaos, she’d tried to assess whether—once Stephen was gone and what with Rafe still in Amherst—she and Grandma were going to be safe in the cottage, especially now that Maddie’s pregnancy was obvious. Would the note-writer see it as an opportunity for … what?
After reading the last note, she hadn’t shredded them, though she still wanted to believe that three notes in five-and-a-half months hardly indicated an emergency.
She did, however, vow that if one more showed up, she would call Brandon.
Or the police before then, if she got scared.
It would no longer matter if the effort seemed pointless.
She spoke to Rex again, twice. Because he’d been tired, the first call was brief; the second was longer, when—surprise!
—he did most of the talking, mostly about how he could go outside in a wheelchair now and how beautiful it was up in the hills with views of the Pacific, and that a rich scent of bougainvillea filled the air because spring came early out there.
Neither conversation had provided an opportunity for her to drop the pregnancy bomb. Or maybe she was reticent for reasons she didn’t want to analyze.
Suddenly, it was April first—the day before Maddie’s appointment with Dr. Mason, and the day before Stephen would leave.
She’d barely slept, but now, as slivers of dawn softened the night sky into morning, Maddie longed to go for a run.
She needed some worthwhile exercise; a mile or two might clear her head.
She bundled up—bravo for stretchy yoga pants—then tiptoed to the kitchen, exchanged her slippers for her Nikes at the back door, and donned her down parka, wool scarf, hat, and mittens.
Unfortunately, as soon as she stepped outside, she realized she’d dressed for the Berkshires.
Though hardly Southern California, the Vineyard climate was more temperate than it was in Green Hills, except when the wind kicked in, of which there was none that morning.
So, she deposited her wool accessories on the back steps and made her way through the dunes and down to the beach where, to her surprise, it was high tide, which meant running would not be fun. It was too warm for her parka, anyway.
Standing on the sand, looking toward the horizon, she wilted. As busy as her life now was, the challenges had come too fast for a woman who was used to spending too much time with her head in a book.
She peeled off her parka, spread it on the beach, then sat on it and wished that some things could be different.
“I wish you were still here, Mommy,” she whispered into a thin line of froth that edged an incoming wave. “Because I really need you now.” She didn’t often admit those things, but they were always there, beneath her surface.
Then another gentle wave rolled in, and with it, Maddie heard her mother speak: A lot of good things are coming for you, my dear. And you deserve every bit and more.
Which was what Maddie needed to hear. She closed her eyes and softly said, “Thank you.”
After a pause, a low voice behind her said, “You’re welcome.”
She quickly turned. Instead of Hannah, she saw her father.
“Dad …?”
“You sounded so sincere, I thought I should reply.” He moved closer, then crouched beside her. “I thought you’d gone for a run.”
“What gave me away?”
“The sneakers by the back door were gone, but your slippers were there. And your hat and scarf were on the steps. I figured you changed your mind about wearing them.”
“It’s too hot. And the tide’s in, so no running for me.”
“And you were talking to …?”
“My mother.” She tried to sound matter-of-fact.
He mused a moment. “I still do that on occasion.”
Though he’d never declared it, Maddie was not surprised. “Does it help?”
“Sometimes. Other times she ignores me.” He laughed.
They sat quietly then, their eyes locked on the soothing motion of the water. Then his voice grew serious. “If you don’t mind me asking, were you talking to Hannah about something I can help with?”
“I was looking for reassurance. For hours and sometimes for days I’m confident about my decisions.
Then I get slammed with moments of awareness that I’m faking, that everything I’m doing is wrong.
” She didn’t recall ever being that candid with her father.
Maybe Hannah was there after all, with them in spirit, helping them help each other. Perhaps she always had been.
Stephen grew pensive as he chose his words carefully. “People who have the courage to question their decisions are usually the ones who are doing fine. It’s the ones who think they’re right all the time who have the most to learn.”
Maddie smiled. “Did my mother teach you that?”
“No,” he said. “My students did. So did you. Your mother only taught me to love you.”
Which also was what she’d needed to hear.
Then Stephen took her hand and suggested they walk over to the shop and see how things were shaping up. They had, after all, been so buried in working on the logistics, they hadn’t checked in for days.
Because it was still early, Maddie didn’t expect they’d see anyone. But the front door was unlocked and the inside lights were on.
Sounds of loud, vibrating music greeted them inside. A man stood in the far corner, his back to them, his hammer thwacking to the beat.
“Hello?” Stephen shouted above the noise.
The man turned: he was older than Rafe, younger than Maddie, but looked vaguely familiar.
“Hey, Mr. Clarke.” The hammering ceased first, followed by the music. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting visitors.”
“No problem,” her father said. “Have you met the boss?” He gestured to Maddie.
“I have. How are you, Ms. Clarke?” He had blond hair and dark eyes and cheerful, plump cheeks that looked as if they’d been glued onto his round face.
“Please, call me Maddie. And I’m sorry, I know I’ve met you, but I can’t remember where.”
“Dave worked on the cottage after the fire,” her father said. “Carpentry and painting.”
“Oh, right. You’re responsible for the beautiful bedroom suite.”
“Guilty.” He smiled, then motioned to the bookcases he’d been hammering. “What do you think of these?”
“They look wonderful. I didn’t know they’d be custom made.”
Dave nodded. “I’m making them deeper than standard ones, so they can hold oversized books. You’ll be able to slide them in, spine out, like regular books, so they’ll have room to breathe. Which is important with the dampness around here.”
Maddie was amazed at the things other people—except her, the bookshop owner—had accomplished while she’d been in a semi-daze.
“That’s terrific, Dave. You must have been doing carpentry awhile.”
“Not really. I was a fisherman like my dad—maybe you know him? Bud Erikson? Anyway, we were out in a storm right after Labor Day and the rough sea nailed me with a bad bout of vertigo; it took a long time for me to shake it once I was back on dry land. The doc said it might be triggered again if I go too far out, and he politely suggested that I find another career.” He pouted, but only briefly.
“Accidents sure can change your life in a flash.”
Of course, that made Maddie think about Rex. “How awful for you,” she said, again pushing down her thoughts. “But how lucky for us.”
Dave grinned. “Kevin saved me, by giving me all kinds of jobs. Rex, too. Daria and I live in a house my dad owns, but we’ve got four kids, so whatever I get really helps.”
“Good thing I’m still here and don’t charge them rent.” A husky voice made its way in from the front door.
“Hey, Bud,” Stephen said. “Maddie, meet Bud Erikson.”
Bud had a light complexion that looked like it had been sunburned too many times; it highlighted Shar-Pei-looking wrinkles framed by a scruffy beard.
He wore a stained yellow slicker and matching pants and sported a scent of fresh-caught halibut or something like that.
Maddie figured that a photo of him should be on a package of frozen fish. Or on a poster for the movie Jaws.
Then she remembered that she’d seen him before: He was the grumpy guy at the potluck who’d been yakking about Arnie’s Bait I was told I was lucky there was space. I had no idea the ferries would be booked on the first of April.”
Maddie set down her fork. “We still have lots to learn about this place.” It was a useless comment, but helped fill the air while not revealing how much she’d miss him. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel guilty about going.
“As for the conference,” Stephen added, “I hope you know I’d cancel if I didn’t think you could handle things on your own now.”
She helped herself to more fish. “Thanks, Dad. And I know you’ll be a phone call away, but I promise not to abuse that.”
“Well, if you need instant answers, you can always ask Evelyn.”
Maddie smiled and thought, Evelyn. The attractive, supportive woman. If all was as it seemed.
“Good grief,” Grandma said. “How hard can it be? It’s not like you’ll be competing with Barnes and Nople.” She smirked, because she no doubt knew the chain store’s name was Noble, not Nople.
“You’re correct,” Stephen said. “After all, we’re on the Vineyard. So it’s only a little bookshop by the harbor.”
That time, both women rolled their eyes.
Then Maddie ate her last bite of dinner and said, “Speaking of phone calls, I hate to depart from this fascinating conversation, but I must excuse myself to call Rex.” She didn’t mention what she was going to say to him.
Or that she had to do it right then while her spirits were high. And before she lost her nerve. Again.
With that, dinner was done.
“Here we go,” she whispered to her belly once she was in her room with the door closed. “Time to talk to Daddy.”
With phone in hand, she sat on the comfy rocking chair by the window and only allowed herself to take one long breath. Then she touched the “call” icon. self.
One ring. Two. Then …
“Hi! Maddie, is it you?”
She was startled that he sounded like his chipper, energetic
“I was going to call in a few minutes,” he said.
It really was him. Sounding like himself. Acting like himself. Which threw her slightly off balance.
She stumbled over her words, struggling to remember how she’d planned to say what she needed to say before he had to hang up to eat, sleep, or have another round of PT.
“It’s … you,” was what spluttered out.
“In the flesh. How are you?”
“Me? How are you?”
He hemmed for a second; hawed for another. “Believe it or not, I’m doing really well. Which was one reason I wanted to call you tonight. I’m so much better that the doctor said I can have my walking papers.”
His walking papers? Maddie hadn’t realized that, in addition to breaking his neck, Rex hadn’t been able to walk at all. She knew he’d been using a wheelchair but …
She stopped trying to think straight. Instead, she simply said, “That’s … great.” An image of him strolling around the bedroom, rocking their baby in his strong arms came to mind.
“Yeah, and there’s more.”
“Yes?” She had good news, too. But his voice sounded eager, so she wanted to let him tell her his news first. She wasn’t, however, prepared for what he had to say.
“I’m coming home, Maddie,” he said. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”