Louisa lay in bed, enjoying the cool breeze coming in through the screen. The forecast was for a run of hot, muggy days so this last bit of cool before the heat was welcome. She groaned as she sat up. Her back ached, as did her hands and elbows and shoulders and knees. She snorted.
“Best stop taking inventory,” she mumbled to herself. “Going to run out of body parts. Still lots to do.”
Most of the garden produce was put up for the winter, but there was still a bunch waiting to be picked and canned.
“It won’t pick itself.”
She stood and changed her nightgown for Olivia’s dungarees and a light cotton shirt. Standing in front of her mirror, she brushed out her silver hair and twisted it into a bun.
“At least you have help with it this year, Lou.”
She smiled. “You’re right, there, Ollie.”
“I wasn’t so sure about them, that they had what it takes to live here, but this place has never looked better.”
“Daddy would be proud, wouldn’t he?”
“Sure and you should be, too.”
Louisa felt that pride buoy her as she descended the stairs. She debated having breakfast first, but decided getting out in the cool outweighed food for now. She could always eat later. On the back porch, she reached for a stack of bushel baskets and her hat. She rounded the corner of the house and stopped mid-stride.
There, already at work in the garden, Irene and Meredith were bent over rows while Roy and Aidan turned over more of the potatoes with pitchforks.
“When did you all get out here?” she asked.
Aidan grinned. “Before the sun was up. You’re getting lazy, sleeping in till six.”
“I can’t stay long,” Meredith said apologetically, shuffling a basket already half-full of carrots. “But I can help some before I shower for school.”
“I’ve got a couple of hours before I have to load the ferry,” Aidan said.
“And we want to help get as much done as we can while we’re here.” Irene straightened to mop her forehead.
Her aches and pains forgotten, Louisa joined them, plucking what were probably the last pods of peas.
Meredith left not long after to clean up and get ready to teach. Aidan hauled the heavier baskets of potatoes to the cellar, with Roy carrying smaller baskets of carrots and onions.
“That’s almost all of it,” Louisa said, surveying the garden. “We’ll get a few more tomatoes and some more beans. Except for the squashes and pumpkins, most everything else is ready to be tilled back into the soil. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You don’t need to thank us,” Irene said, hoisting her own basket of green beans.
They carried the baskets into the kitchen and made a quick breakfast. Aidan was still munching on a piece of toast as he said good-bye and drove off.
Irene and Roy worked with Louisa to blanch the beans and peas before bagging them for the freezer.
“Oh,” Louisa said tiredly when the last of the bags was tucked away, “thank you so much.” She dropped into a kitchen chair.
“Too bad we won’t be here to taste it this winter,” Roy said pointedly.
Irene stood, strangling a dish towel in her hands. “I was remembering how special Yule was, all of us gathered at the stone circle for the solstice.” She cast a nervous glance in Roy’s direction. “I know we’ve agreed to rent a house for six months, but I was thinking, we could maybe spend one of those months back here, so we could all be together for the holidays.”
Roy stared at her for a moment, then took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Irene, you were the one who insisted we couldn’t be here in the winter, with the ferry schedule the way it is.”
“I know, I know.” Irene’s knuckles were white as she twisted the towel. “I was so scared after the hospital and everything—”
Louisa stood. “I should leave you two alone.”
“No,” Irene blurted. “You’re part of this. And I know, I was the one who insisted, but…” Her eyes filled with tears. “I just found you, Louisa, and this island, which feels so much like home. And,” she turned to Roy, “and then I almost lost you, and I don’t know what I’d do—”
She pressed the towel to her face, and her shoulders shook with her sobs. Roy went to her and held her while Louisa stole out of the kitchen.
“So I guess they’re a couple now?”
Molly’s head whipped around as she drove. “Who?”
Kathleen, balancing a towel-wrapped crock of baked beans on her lap, rolled her eyes. “Blossom and Minnow. Who do you think? Rebecca and Nadiya.”
Molly pulled over to make room for a group of tourists on bikes, offering them a wave as she passed.
“You think?”
“Well, Nadiya’s back here now, and—” Kathleen stopped abruptly, trying to remember if Rebecca had sworn her to secrecy about her tentative plans.
“And what?” Molly narrowed her eyes knowingly. “What did my aunt tell you that she’s not told the rest of us?”
“Um,” Kathleen stammered, “she might be thinking about her and Nadiya going back and forth to spend time together.”
Molly pulled into the Cooper drive and turned the Toyota off, staring out the windshield. “Really.”
Blossom whined from the back seat, and Molly got out to open the door for him. Kathleen slid out of the SUV and used her hip to close her door.
“Keep that to yourself, please,” Kathleen said. “Until Rebecca’s ready to tell everyone.”
Blossom made the rounds of the yard, peeing on all the important places, and then bounded up the porch steps. When Molly opened the screen door, he immediately began searching for the cat and found her sunning herself on the couch.
“You leave Minnow alone,” Kathleen warned.
His butt wagged, but his eyes never left the feline.
Kathleen and Molly went through to the kitchen, where Jenny was mixing a salad dressing and Nadiya was skewering kabobs with chicken and veggies.
“Those look delicious,” Kathleen said, setting the crock down. “This is still warm. Figured you wouldn’t want to have your oven on, it’s so hot.”
“Thanks,” Jenny said gratefully. “Even with the fans on, it’s pretty miserable. Sorry to have you over when we’re having a heat wave, Nadiya.”
“This is nothing to the muggy summer weather in Philly,” Nadiya said.
Kathleen noted that she wasn’t even glistening, while Jenny’s cheeks were flushed, and she felt sweat trickling down her own back. Nadiya skewered the last of the kabobs.
“These ready for the grill?” Molly asked.
“Thanks, Mo.” Jenny swiped her forearm across her forehead. “And there’s a plate of burgers in the fridge.”
“I’ll get those,” Kathleen volunteered. She retrieved the hamburgers and followed Molly into the back yard where Rebecca was deep in conversation with Joe.
“Perfect timing,” Joe said, placing the kabobs on one side of the grill and the burgers on the other.
“Want a drink?” Kathleen asked Molly.
“That’d be great, thanks.”
Kathleen strolled back to the house. “Anyone need something cold?” she asked as she opened the fridge.
“I’ll get something in a minute,” Jenny said.
Nadiya held up a frosty glass. “Long Island iced tea. I’m set.”
“Oh, that sounds good.” Kathleen found the pitcher and poured two glasses. She wagged her head toward the door. “Come on outside. There’s a bit of a breeze blowing.”
She took one glass to Molly and then joined Nadiya at the picnic table. “How long are you here for?”
“Another week. I think this island is growing on me.”
“Yeah?” Kathleen tried to keep her tone casual as she asked, “Think you could live here full-time?”
“Maybe once I retire, but I need to be in-person at least some of the time for my work. I can research things online, but seeing them, holding them, obviously that has to be done there.”
Nadiya turned to her, her dark eyes probing. “You’re training to be the next, what is it? Keeper?”
“Yes.”
“So… if there were any more of those rare items like the ones Rebecca brought to auction, you’d be in charge of that?”
Kathleen cursed as she felt the telltale flush creep up her neck into her cheeks. “I don’t know that there are any more.”
“Mmm hmm.” Nadiya’s tone indicated very clearly her skepticism.
They watched Rebecca chatting with Molly and Joe. Whatever it was Joe said, gesticulating wildly with his beer, Rebecca burst into laughter. She turned and caught them watching. With a self-conscious shake of the head, she turned back to Joe.
“It’s funny,” Kathleen mused.
“What is?”
“Rebecca, laughing like that.” She eyed Nadiya over the rim of her glass. “She seems so much freer now. She always struck me as being like a glacier.”
A secretive smile curled Nadiya’s lips. “More like a dormant volcano.”
Kathleen choked as her drink went down the wrong way. Her eyes were watering as Nadiya chuckled. Molly noticed and sauntered over to them.
“You okay?”
Kathleen nodded, wiping her eyes. “Nadiya just compared your aunt to a dormant volcano.”
Molly screwed her eyes shut. “I did not need to hear that.”
Nadiya winked as she stood. “Someday, your niece and nephew are going to think of you the same way.”
Her throaty laugh trailed behind her as she went to join Rebecca.
Molly watched her aunt wrap an arm around Nadiya’s waist. “Volcano, huh?”
Kathleen sniggered. “Who knew?”
“Good morning.” Nadiya kissed the top of Rebecca’s head on her way to the stove to pour herself a mug of steaming water. “Why do we still drink hot tea on hot summer mornings?”
Rebecca dabbed some moisture from her upper lip and forehead with a napkin. “Habit.”
Nadiya dropped a slice of bread into the toaster and joined Rebecca at the table to leaf through the teabags in the small basket.
“Hmmm, I think English breakfast tea this morning.”
“I could run to the diner for coffee.”
“No need.” Nadiya dropped the bag into her mug. “I’m getting used to tea.”
Rebecca waited until the toast had popped and Nadiya had slathered it with orange marmalade. “What were you saying to Kathleen and Molly last evening?”
Nadiya took her time chewing and swallowing before she said, “We were talking about you.”
Rebecca sat up. “Me?”
“Mmmm. I think your niece was surprised to learn how enthusiastic you are in bed.”
Rebecca set her cup down on its saucer with a clatter. “You didn’t.”
“Not in any detail,” Nadiya said breezily. “I compared you to a dormant volcano.”
Rebecca closed her eyes. “Goddess. Can’t wait for the next time I see them.”
Nadiya chortled. “It’ll do them some good to see this side of you.”
Rebecca opened her eyes and glared at Nadiya. “I’ve crafted a very careful image on this island.”
“Yes, you are ‘a glacier’, as Kathleen put it.” Nadiya shook her head. “I couldn’t very well leave them with such a wrong impression, now, could I?”
She reached for Rebecca’s hand and kissed her knuckles. Even that slight brush of lips against skin sent Rebecca’s body tingling. She smiled, though she was mortified at the thought of seeing them again.
“Anything else?” Rebecca asked. “It looked as if you were talking to Kathleen for a while.”
“Aren’t you suspicious.” Nadiya gave a wag of her head. “You and I haven’t talked for a while about the extraordinary things you brought to sell.”
Rebecca’s fingers twitched reflexively. Nadiya noticed, her gaze dropping to their hands.
“I want you to know,” Nadiya said slowly, “that in the time I’ve spent here, I’ve realized this island may have secrets of its own. Secrets I know you have to protect.”
She squeezed Rebecca’s hand. “I hope you know you can trust me.”
“It’s not a matter of trusting you,” Rebecca said earnestly. “There are things I am entrusted with that I can’t even share with other islanders.”
Nadiya’s smooth brow creased. “How do they feel at being shut out of things?”
Rebecca tried not to feel the prick of those words personally, despite the sharpness of Nadiya’s tone. “Trust again. They trust that those in charge of these things will always do the right thing and take care of the island above all else.”
She emphasized those last two words.
Nadiya searched her eyes, and Rebecca saw the caution in them.
“Above personal happiness?” Nadiya asked.
“I have thought that,” Rebecca replied carefully. “I know, when we graduated, you never understood why I had to come back here—”
“I do now,” Nadiya cut in. “At least, more than I did.”
“I’ve also evolved in my thinking on the matter.” Rebecca tugged her hand away, needing a little distance if she was to do this. “I’ve been making arrangements, planning—” She stood abruptly. “Do you need more tea?”
“Becca.” Nadiya caught her by the hand and made her sit again. “Talk to me.”
Rebecca heaved a deep sigh. “All my life, as far as I can tell, the island has only ever had one Keeper. The next is trained to be ready to take over when the previous one passes. But,” she paused, “I’ve been training Kathleen, and I think she’s nearly ready, so that I…”
Why is it so hard to breathe?
“So that I could leave. Here. To be with you. Not for good,” she added quickly. “But for maybe a month at a time. And you could come here for a few weeks or a month. We could share this, go back and forth. I know it’s not the same as living together full-time, but we each have our lives we can’t just abandon and—”
The crush of Nadiya’s lips on hers stilled any further babbling. The kiss went from hard to soft, asking for more, which Rebecca gave. Her lips parted, and she leaned forward to meet it more fully.
Nadiya pulled away and caressed Rebecca’s cheek. “I think it’s the perfect solution. For both of us.”
“You do?”
Nadiya nodded and kissed her again. “I do.”
“Keep your eyes closed.”
“They’re closed.” Kathleen shook her head. “You do know all you have to do if you want to blind me is take my glasses away. Where are we going?”
“You’ll see in a minute. Don’t open them.”
Molly drove into the village, pausing for a tourist family who were casually strolling across the street. There weren’t many now, as they had to stay at least a week with the ferry schedule. When they passed, she drove on to the marina.
“I’ll come and get you. Keep them closed.”
She came around to the passenger side and opened both doors. Blossom jumped out, while Molly took Kathleen by the hand, tucking it under her elbow.
“I’ll guide you.”
She led the way to the dock and finally said, “Okay.”
Kathleen opened her eyes and looked around for a second before her gaze lit on the boat bobbing in the water. “Oh, Molly. You’ve finished her!”
“I have.” Molly’s chest was near to bursting with pride at the sight of the Runabout, her brightwork gleaming, a mirror finish in her varnish, her red leather seats inviting passengers. “Let’s take her out.”
“Now?”
“We’re both done working for the day.” Molly pointed to the craft. “I’ve already got jackets and blankets packed in case it gets chilly.” She saw the doubt on Kathleen’s face. She knew that old fear would probably never go away completely. Some scars ran too deep.
“I’ve got emergency equipment, too. Life jackets, flares, radio.”
“Sorry,” Kathleen said sheepishly. “Silly of me.”
“Not silly at all.” Molly put one foot in the boat to steady it and held out a hand. “Let’s take her out.”
Blossom hopped in, his tail wagging. Kathleen took Molly’s hand and stepped down, settling herself on the passenger seat.
“Listen.” Molly turned the key, and the engine purred. She untied the line and slid the throttle forward, easing away from the dock.
Once they were clear of the marina’s no-wake zone, she opened the throttle, and the sleek boat shot forward, slicing through the water.
Molly laughed. She couldn’t help it. This boat was the kind she’d only dreamed she could ever own, resigning herself to the fact that she’d restore them for others, but that was as close as she’d get. This gift from Kathleen and the islanders had been the most wonderful surprise.
“Took me more than a year,” she said over the whistle of the wind and the roar of the engine. “But it was worth it.”
Kathleen relaxed into her seat and grinned back at her. “It’s beautiful!”
Blossom sat with his head over the port rail, ears flapping in the wind.
Molly headed south, passing a few fishing trawlers with a wave. Soon, they were alone in open water, not another boat in sight. She eased back on the throttle, and the boat slowed, bobbing on the gentle swells.
“Molly, you did a wonderful job.” Kathleen ran her hands over the smooth leather on either side of her thighs. “I can’t believe this is the same wreck we bought for you. I was so disappointed we couldn’t get you something nicer to start with.”
“Makes it more special,” Molly said, caressing the glossy steering wheel. “Practically rebuilt her from the keel up.”
She turned the engine off and let the boat drift as she went to the stern. “Packed us an early dinner. Well, bought us an early dinner from the diner. Nothing fancy. Sandwiches, things we can eat without utensils.” She uncovered a cooler and pulled out containers, plates, drinks.
“Don’t worry,” she said to Blossom, who had stuck his head into the cooler to sniff everything. “I didn’t forget you.” She produced another container and removed the lid. “Here you go.”
He happily crunched his kibble.
“I can’t believe you went to all this trouble,” Kathleen said.
“Her maiden voyage deserved a celebration.” Molly popped the cork on a bottle of hard cider.
“Aren’t we supposed to break that across her bow or something?” Kathleen asked.
“Don’t even think about it.” Molly poured a couple of glasses, handed one to Kathleen, and raised hers. “Thank you again for arranging this. Dad told me you were the one who spearheaded the whole thing.”
She patted the bench seat near the stern, and Kathleen sat beside her. For several minutes, they ate without talking, or at least Molly ate. She glanced over and saw that Kathleen had barely touched her tuna sub—something she normally wolfed down.
“What is it?” Molly set her own crab cake sandwich down. “Is the motion of the boat too much? Do you want—”
“I don’t know why you’re so good to me,” Kathleen whispered.
“What are you talking about?”
“I know I’ve been a bear to live with for months.” Kathleen closed her eyes. “My mom, and then Eryn, and now—”
“Your secret pact with my aunt,” Molly finished for her. “Whatever that’s about.” She shook her head. “I’m not asking, but I can tell it’s been weighing on you.”
She reached for Kathleen’s hand. “I know you’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff.”
Kathleen frowned down at their hands, tracing the outline of Molly’s nail with a fingertip. “We haven’t made love in months.”
“Four, to be precise,” Molly offered. “But I think all relationships go through ebbs and flows like this.”
“It’s not fair to you, for me to be so distracted, so preoccupied with all these other things.”
“Hey,” Molly placed a finger under Kathleen’s chin, made her look up. “This is what love is. It’s standing by through hard times, being there, no matter what.”
“I love you so much.”
Molly leaned forward and kissed Kathleen, tenderly, gently. They broke apart at the sound of wax paper crinkling to find Blossom finishing off the last of the crab cake sandwich.
“You thief!” Molly glared at him. “You could at least look ashamed.”
His tongue darted out to lick the last of the tartar sauce from his muzzle.
“I don’t think shame is in his vocabulary.” Kathleen was clearly trying not to laugh. “Here, have half my sandwich.”
They split the tuna sub and then started back to Little Sister, sharing a container of double-fudge brownies. In the marina, Molly eased the sleek boat up to the dock while Kathleen jumped out to tie the bow line to a cleat.
“Hey,” she said, “I forgot to ask. What did you name her?” She walked to the stern and burst out laughing. “That is so you.”
“Isn’t it?” Molly grinned and came to stand beside her, watching Curmudgeon bob alongside the dock.