and Connor right after the crowning at prom.” Masie flicked through the pictures on her phone. She held it over the table she and Tilly shared at Dolly’s Corner Cafe. “Don’t you love her dress? I told her to go with purple, don’t know why she doubted me.”
“It’s beautiful,” Tilly agreed. Masie’s niece bore little resemblance to her aunt beyond the high cheekbones and dark hair. “She’s tall, isn’t she?” The girl towered over Connor Grace, prom king and son of two local fishermen. Like most of the Northeast, Drake Isle was pretty progressive, at least most of the time. People barely blinked an eye these days at two mothers or two fathers raising a child. A few of the older residents frowned and whispered behind closed doors, but Tilly didn’t mind who people spent their time with. It was hard to find someone to love.
“Oh, she is. Almost six feet without heels. Takes after her father. Did I tell you she’s the center of the school basketball team?”
“You did.” Three times, Tilly added silently.
“She wants to go to NYU and study medicine,” Masie said. Her chest puffed out with pride. “She wants to be a doctor. I told her she better come back here and take care of us island folks when she does.”
Tilly smiled and sipped her peppermint mocha. She didn’t usually indulge in more than a regular cup of coffee with cream, but the weekend’s good weather had been replaced by heavy clouds, and a thunderstorm always made her long for something warm and sweet.
“Oh, and here’s one when they were leaving at the end of the night. Isn’t it sweet?” Masie held out her phone again, and Tilly looked at the picture of Sandra and Connor with their heads bent close together, smiling over some kind of shared secret. The high school was lit up behind them and the rest of the prom court held balloons along the sidewalk, waiting for their new king and queen to leave in a horse-drawn carriage. Tilly recalled that tradition from when her sons were in school. The carriage, on loan from Wind and Water Farms, did a loop around the school grounds and then brought the couple down to the Water’s Edge restaurant for one final picture before the night was over.
“She looks very happy.”
Masie glanced around the tiny coffee shop and lowered her voice. “You know, Connor’s grandmother’s neighbor told me Connor’s girlfriend was not happy about Sandra winning prom queen.” Masie flicked her finger over the phone’s screen. “None of us like her. The girlfriend, I mean.”
Tilly pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. She would bet that Connor’s girlfriend didn’t care too much what some middle-aged women thought. The bells on the coffee shop door tinkled, and she looked over to see two young moms walk inside pushing fancy strollers with all kinds of attachments. “Why don’t you like Connor’s girlfriend?”
Masie made a face. “She’s too controlling.”
“At seventeen?”
“She wants to know where that poor boy is all the time. He was over working in his grandmother’s garden a couple weeks ago, and she kept texting him. Nonstop. All morning long. Veronica told us about it.”
“Well, young love doesn’t always last,” Tilly said. Although she and Jonathan had met as teenagers, and their love had lasted a lifetime. Through births and deaths, illness, island weather, recessions. Even in the darkest times, she knew she’d chosen well. She couldn’t have imagined sharing her life with anyone else.
“How long were you and Jonathan married?” Masie asked, as if reading Tilly’s mind.
“Forty-one years.”
“My goodness.” Masie drummed her fingers on the table and studied the menu behind the counter. “That’s something.” Masie herself had been twice married and divorced, and she’d confided to Tilly more than once that she wouldn’t mind finding a third husband, though Drake Isle had slim pickings when it came to single men in her age range. She hopped up from her chair. “I think I’ll try a cranberry-orange scone today. Do you want anything?”
Tilly shook her head. She didn’t recognize the young mothers, who’d settled into a corner table with tall cups of steaming coffee. Near-identical, pink-cheeked infants slept in their strollers, and Tilly felt a tug of sadness. She missed those days, the sweet smell of a sleeping baby, the gurgle of a smile after a nap, the heavy, wonderful warmth snuggled close to her chin.
“Hello,” Masie said to the moms. “Haven’t seen you in here before.” She bent down and cooed over the sleeping babies. “Are you mainlanders?”
Tilly winced. Masie wasn’t known for her subtlety.
“No, we live over in the new Duck Blind development,” one of them said. She held out a slim hand with painted red nails for Masie to shake. “We moved in a couple of months ago.”
“Well, my goodness. Those are some beautiful homes,” Masie said. “Your husbands must make very good salaries.”
Tilly winced again and tried to melt into her chair.
The mother with the red nails looked at her friend, who had beige painted nails with little diamonds on the tips. “Diane’s husband is a financial analyst on the mainland,” she said with a polite smile. “My name’s Cara, and I work from home. I do website design,” she added, and when she stirred cream into her coffee, Tilly noticed she wore no wedding or engagement ring.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Masie said, without so much as blinking twice. “My name’s Masie, and that’s Tilly over there. She owns the Drake’s Heart Inn.”
Tilly gave a weak smile. “Hello.” I’m sorry my friend lacks basic social graces.
Masie returned to their table with a dramatic eye roll. “I didn’t know anyone had even bought those homes,” she whispered. “You know how much they cost?”
Tilly didn’t.
“They start at three hundred and fifty thousand. For the base model with no garage.” She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Website design must pay awfully well. I don’t even think that one’s married. I didn’t see a wedding ring.”
“Masie, shh.”
“What? I’m only saying what everyone else in here is thinking.” She took a bite of her scone and gave a satisfied smile.
“How did Sandra enjoy being in the parade?” Tilly asked, desperate to change the subject.
“Oh, she just loved it. She took some wonderful pictures up on that float.” She pulled her phone out again. “Want to see?”
“I have a lot of cleaning to do this afternoon, so maybe next time?” Tilly finished her mocha and collected her things. If she looked at any more pictures on Masie’s phone, she’d go home with a headache and eyestrain that would last the rest of the day.
“Oh, of course. Say,” Masie said as she pushed back her chair and stood along with Tilly. “I wanted to ask you. Blake Carter. Tell me about him. He’s single, right?”
Was it Tilly’s imagination, or did the moms in the corner perk up at the question? “I don’t have any idea.” She swept her crumpled napkins into her hand and tossed them into the trash, then returned her mug to the counter. “I think he might be a little young for you, though.”
“Hmph.” Masie smoothed her hands over her hips.
“No offense,” Tilly added. “I just mean –”
“He went to Emmy’s yoga class the other morning,” Masie said as they stopped at the counter and she poured her remaining coffee into a to-go cup. “I thought that was a little strange.”
Actually, Tilly thought it was a little interesting. And sweet. She’d always had good intuition when it came to young love, and if there wasn’t something sparking between Emmy and Blake, there would be soon enough.
“Excuse me,” Cara said. “Did I hear you mention Blake Carter?” Her face brightened. “The CEO of Eastefire? I didn’t know he had a place here on the island.”
“He doesn’t,” Tilly said before Masie could offer any more information. She didn’t know Blake’s relationship status, but she wasn’t about to let anyone play matchmaker with him. Especially not after the way she’d seen Emmy look when he walked in the door of Inner Sanctum.
Tilly had had plenty of experience with love over the years. She’d guided students through crushes when she worked at the school. She’d spent more than one Saturday night nursing her own sons’ broken hearts. She could see it thinly veiled behind Sandra and Connor’s smiles in Masie’s prom pictures. Oh, she knew what young love looked like, and it was written all over Blake and Emmy’s faces, no matter how hard they tried to disguise it. It was only a matter of time before they gave into it.
She hoped.