Chapter 6
Luna
“Life’s a tapestry. You can’t dodge the snags, but if you weave with courage, you’ll find a community to stitch alongside you through every twist and knot.”
—Eloisa Hobby
Orion.
The name Dot had spoken at Marshmallow Landing pulled Luna down a tunnel of memories she couldn’t shake. She dropped onto the mattress in her room at the Nestled Inn and took a deep breath as memories flooded her.
Artemis and Orion.
Characters from the Greek mythology she studied at Julep High School in her junior year with her study partner, Paul Chance. Artemis, the goddess, and Orion, a handsome mortal who hunted with her by the light of the full moon.
Luna and Paul, like the mythological Artemis and Orion, had started out as simply good friends.
They took astronomy together as well as their AP class in World Lit, and they bonded over their love of books and stars. Paul pointed out Luna’s name meant moon, and he dubbed her Moonbeam because—in his words—she had a smile that lit up the night.
Their relationship grew into something stronger, richer, and they fell in love. By their senior year, Luna and Paul were planning their future together. On long summer nights, they drove into the countryside in Paul’s pickup, lay on a blanket in the truck bed, gazed at the stars, and discussed their escape from Julep.
“Wouldn’t Orion and Artemis be cool names for our kids?” he asked.
“What if we have two boys or two girls?”
“The names could work for any gender.”
“Let’s do it. Let’s name our kids Artemis and Orion.”
“Deal.” They shook on it and laughed.
She recalled that special night. The last time they ever made love. A week later, everything fell apart, and she never saw Paul again.
But she hadn’t forgotten their vow.
When Beck was born, she wanted to name him Orion, but Herc put the kibosh on it, asking to name his firstborn son after his father, and she liked the name Beck, so she agreed.
But she dug in her heels on Artemis, knowing they would only have two children, and Herc gave in. She never told Herc about her pact with Paul. Why bring that up? Luna adored the name Artemis, and not just because it reminded her of Paul, but because she wanted to name her daughter after a goddess who was strong, brave, and daring.
Luna couldn’t help wondering if Paul kept his promise and named his child Orion. Silly to think he might have upheld his end of the bargain and that by some wild stretch of the imagination, he was here on Hobby Island with his child.
While not common names, Orion and Artemis weren’t that unusual. She and Paul didn’t own Greek mythology. The odds that this Orion was Paul’s child were one in a million. But her foolish heart wondered, What if?
Ridiculous. Even if Paul was on Hobby Island, he was most likely married. Goodness, what was wrong with her spinning fantasies?
But Luna couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Paul Chance.
Her first love. The guy whose heart she broke. He’d been the high school basketball star, and she’d been the editor of the school newspaper. They dated for two years until it all fell apart one dark summer night.
Guilt burned her throat. How might things have been different if she’d chosen Paul over Herc? If she’d been more forgiving, and less judgmental?
Those old memories assaulted her, and in her mind’s eye, she saw again the decrepit roller rink where Paul kissed her for the first time. She recalled he’d tasted like the cinnamon Altoid he’d popped, his mouth warm and eager. She remembered the Dairy Queen, offering a Hunger Buster half-priced meal deal, nostalgia dumping images of her and Paul sharing a banana split in a back booth. He had whipped cream on his bottom lip, and she licked it off.
And the Julep water tower . . .
At some point, most teens in town scaled and defaced the water tower as a rite of passage. Luna offered her virginity to Paul on that creaky metal scaffolding despite her fear of heights. They used their clothes as a blanket and made love beneath the graffiti of paul loves luna in crimson spray paint for the entire world to see. The earnest message was long gone, the graffiti painted over each year by the town council, but the bittersweet memories remained.
Paul joined the navy after she dumped him. Luna went off to college, started dating Herc, and that was that. Over the years, she never bothered looking Paul up on social media. The past should stay buried and besides, no good could come of tripping down memory lane.
But now she was single . . .
Luna stretched out on the bed and covered her face with a pillow. Ack. Her life was a train wreck.
Snap out of it. She closed her eyes and sighed. Relax. She was on vacation. Be in the moment and just breathe.
* * *
Luna woke, disoriented. She sat straight up in bed and blinked at her surroundings. The late-afternoon sunlight streamed in through the sheer curtains, illuminating dust motes spinning in the air and drifting across the polished wood floor. Her head filled with cotton-candy dreams, sweet and airy. She squinted at her surroundings, unsure of where she was.
It took a second to remember.
She was in an incredibly plush bed, in a darling B&B, on a secluded island oasis, and it scared the living bejeebers out of her. How many times over her childhood had she awakened in a strange place?
More times than she could count, and she hated that vulnerable feeling.
She glanced around her room, taking in the details—the breezy white wicker furniture, the brass bedstead, the original seascape artwork on the walls, and on the nightstand, a green ceramic vase filled with fresh-cut sunflowers. A cheery reminder that she was at a resort.
That’s when Luna noticed her luggage on the floor just inside the door. Someone had come into the room while she slept! Alarmed, she jumped up.
Good grief, she hadn’t even roused.
She hadn’t intended on napping. She’d simply fallen backward onto the bed, exhausted from the trip, and daydreaming about Paul Chance, and found herself enveloped in the deep, soft mattress. To be honest, she hadn’t slept so hard in years. Luna looked for a clock but didn’t see one so grabbed her purse and dug out her cell phone.
Four o’clock. She conked out for two hours. Why hadn’t anyone awakened her? She started a group text between herself, her mother, and Artie.
Where R U?
It wasn’t until she got the red exclamation mark in the message box, which told her the text went unsent, that Luna remembered the cell service on the island was unpredictable.
Because of Trouble Ridge.
How annoying. There was no way of contacting Artie or her mother.
Irritated with herself, Luna went to the bathroom, combed her hair, applied lip gloss and fresh sunscreen, slung her purse strap over her shoulder, and left the room. She locked the door behind her with the old-fashioned skeleton key Vivian had given her.
In the hallway, her sneakers creaked against the waxed floor. She forgot to ask the room numbers of her mother and daughter. How could she have been so lax?
The house was silent. Was she the only one here?
“Hello?” she called out softly.
No answer.
Luna continued down the hallway, past a few other doors, until she reached the living room. In an armchair by the window Vivian sat with her nose in a book. Luna longed to ask what her hostess was reading. She loved books. Reading had gotten her through many troubling times as a kid, and it was still her refuge when life got rough. She read almost two hundred books in the last thirteen months since Herc died.
Slinking out of view, Luna weighed the cost versus benefit of enlisting Vivian’s help in getting to Crafters’ Corner. The cost if she didn’t? She’d have to search on her own to locate her mother and Artie. The benefit? She didn’t have to rely on someone else.
She stood in the hall, dithering.
Go. Leave. Hide. Her instincts. They hadn’t always served her well. Maybe she shouldn’t trust her gut. Luna stayed rooted. Wanting to reach out but battling her internal resistance.
“Good afternoon! I thought I heard someone.” Vivian closed her book and tucked it underneath her arm. She came down the hallway toward Luna, taking quick mincing steps. She changed from her sundress, and now wore pink feathered mules with kitten heels and a straight pencil skirt, also in pink, which limited her stride. The woman’s whimsical clothing brought a smile to Luna’s lips. She looked like senior citizen Barbie.
“Has everyone gone?” she asked.
“Yes, they popped off to Crafters’ Corner.”
“Without me?”
“They didn’t want to wake you. You seemed to need the rest. They said they could fill you in later on whatever you missed in orientation.”
“Were you the one who left my luggage in my room?”
“I did. I thought you’d want your things with you as soon as possible. I knocked on the door, and when you didn’t answer, I assumed you’d left. I apologize if I overstepped.”
“It’s all right.” Luna nodded. “But please don’t enter my room again without permission.”
“I won’t. I do apologize.” Vivian looked wretched.
Don’t be a jerk. “Your heart was in the right place, and I do appreciate you bringing my luggage to me.”
Vivian set her book on a wall shelf in the hallway. Luna sneaked a peek at the title. The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. She read it in high school but remembered little about it.
“Are you ready to head out?” Vivian radiated goodness.
“You’re coming along?”
“I serve at your pleasure. I’m here to guide you on your journey.”
“Journey?”
“Figure of speech.” Her compassionate eyes took Luna aback. “We’re all on some kind of journey, right?”
“I suppose. And if I don’t want guidance?”
“I’ll step aside. I’m here to meet your needs, whatever they might be. And if you want to be alone, say, ‘Beat it, Vivian.’”
Luna wasn’t so sure she wanted Vivian tagging along, but she didn’t want to seem unfriendly. She did like the effervescent woman.
“Okay, let’s head to Crafters’ Corner,” Luna said.
“Great! We’ll take the scooters.” Vivian crooked a finger. She led Luna into a mudroom at the back of the house. Bike helmets hung on the wall in an assortment of sizes and styles.
Vivian took down a pink helmet to match her outfit. “Please, help yourself.”
Luna picked a simple black helmet and strapped it on. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a helmet. Probably when she rode on the back of Herc’s Ducati that he owned when they first married. He loved that bike so much, but sold it when she got pregnant with Beck. The tender memory touched her heart. Overall, Herc could be a pretty selfish guy, but he’d had his shining moments.
They stepped outside. Behind the house, colorful scooters sat parked in a line, ready to ride.
“Wow,” Luna said. “The scooters are beautiful.”
“Thank you for the compliment. They’re all hand-painted by moi.” Vivian put a palm to her chest and raised her chin at a prideful tilt. “The Nestled Inn scooters stand out from all the others in town.”
“They’re too pretty to ride.”
“Oh no, they love being useful. It’s their raison d’être.” The French phrase, rolling off her southern accent, came off both frisky and charming. Vivian ran her fingers along the handlebars of her vibrant pink scooter. “They also appreciate it when you call them by name.”
“Um . . . okay.” Luna didn’t know what else to say.
“My scooter is Barbie.”
Of course that was her name. Her? Good grief, she was losing it.
“I don’t mind lending her out if you want to borrow Barbie. On Hobby Island, we share and share alike. No need for possessiveness.”
Luna just stared at her.
Vivian gazed back. “This is all strange to you, isn’t it?”
“Honestly? I feel like I’ve fallen down a rabbit hole.”
Vivian’s laugh mingled with the sound of wind chimes clinking in the gentle breeze. “You’ll get used to us soon enough. The place grows on you.”
Like barnacles?
“Pick out a scooter.” Vivian extended her arm in a Vanna White wave.
Luna hesitated. She didn’t know which one to pick. “Which one is Ken?”
“There is no Ken, sweetie. Go for Harvey. He’ll give you a gentle ride.”
“Which one is Harvey?”
“The aqua scooter with dolphins. Go on, introduce yourself.”
Luna walked over to the aqua scooter. Anthropomorphizing inanimate objects seemed silly but was harmless enough. And a little fun. She rolled with it.
“Hello, Harvey,” Luna said. “How are you?”
Harvey, it appeared, was the strong silent type.
“Now that you’re good friends, hop on!” Vivian jumped on Barbie and off she went.
Giggling, Luna mounted Harvey—gosh, that sounded dirty—and followed the older woman down the driveway.