As soon as she asked it, Zoey recognized it was a stupid question since obviously they knew each other from going to the same high school on a small island, but she was new to this kind of parental detective work.
“Yeah, so.” Connor adjusted his glasses on his nose. “She’s in group with me.”
Zoey didn’t know whether that meant a group chat or if that was what high school home room was called now or what. “Oh, right, group. That’s…” she left her voice drift off, hoping he’d fill in the blank so she wouldn’t seem so out of touch.
“Tuesdays and Thursdays after school. Sometimes on Saturday morning, too, but that’s rare. No one wants to get up that early.”
Oh, this must have something to do with band practice,Zoey realized. Gabi had mentioned the band teacher occasionally divided them into groups accordingly to their abilities. “What instrument do you play?”
Connor abruptly pushed his chair back. “’Scuse me. I’m going to see if I can spot them on the roof.”
“Be careful,” Nick warned. “Knowing Aidan, he brought water balloons with him.”
“Okay. Yeah.”
After the door slammed behind Connor, Zoey told Nick about Ivy’s plan to remodel the rest of the kitchen and asked if he could take on the project. After deciding that Nick could start as soon as possible, in-between his other jobs—which pleased Zoey, as it would give Mark less time to find out and interfere—she left Nick and her aunt chatting about colors and design as she took care of the dishes.
When the teenagers returned from the widow’s walk and announced they were going to Rose Beach, the adults settled down with ice cream and the cribbage board. But after just one game, Ivy declared, “It’s almost time for the sun to set. If you hurry, you kids can watch it from the widow’s walk.”
Subtle,Zoey thought, but for once she didn’t mind her aunt’s efforts to push her and Nick together. He seemed game, too, saying, “Yeah, I’d really like that.”
He followed her up the stairs and once they reached the landing in the attic, Zoey started toward the foldable ladder in the ceiling between the two chimneys. But Nick veered toward Sylvia’s trunks on the side of the room. He pushed on the plywood in several places, presumably to test Aidan’s handiwork in securing it to the joists.
Then he crouched down, running his hand over the solid floor. “Do you know what it is?”
“Dust? Some kind of pollen?”
Nick chuckled. “No. Come here, look. I’m almost positive this is the house’s original flooring—it’s probably close to two hundred years old.”
He explained that in the early 1800s, builders often used very long, wide-plank boards—up to 14 or 16 feet long and 18 to 24 inches wide—because they covered more space and needed fewer joints and fasteners. Since attic flooring wasn’t treaded on as frequently as the flooring in the rest of the house, some of the original saw marks hadn’t been worn away. Nick pointed to what looked like dark, thin stripes running across the width of the boards. “See?”
“Yeah, well if you were two hundred years old, you’d have a few flaws, too.”
“These aren’t considered flaws—they’re considered a rare find. Some people go out in search of old attics and barns so they can reclaim wood like this and use it in remodels or for other purposes.”
“Oh. You’re not going to suggest that Aunt Ivy puts this in the kitchen, are you? She’s open to some superficial changes, but it would unsettle her if you started ripping up the floors.”
“No, I wasn’t thinking of that at all. The floor in the kitchen looks like it’s pretty old, too, which is why I steered her away from covering it with tile. It’s been stripped and painted over a few times, but it’s still very valuable and with a little gentle sanding, I think it’ll look amazing. But this—this is really something.”
Just don’t tell Mark about it or he’ll try to auction it online or something—if he hasn’t already,Zoey thought. “We’d better get going or we’ll miss the show,” she said, gesturing to the hatchway.
She climbed the ladder first, emerging onto the platform, which was bordered by a low, white balustrade made of square-top wooden spindles. Moments later, Nick joined her. Facing the back yard, he rotated slowly, clearly awestruck by the sweeping view of the island and seascape: the lowland behind Ivy’s place, with its mix of quaint cottages and expansive summer homes, as charming as dollhouses. The neat, verdant lawns eventually gave way to hills scattered with pitch pines and junipers. A long stripe of blond dunes stretched beneath a wider stripe of the ocean, which in this light appeared royal blue. And all of it capped by a pastel sky—so much sky!
The scenery was similar to the left and right, with landmarks from the neighboring towns which made up Hope Haven—including Port Newcomb’s ferry dock and the boardwalk in Lucinda’s Hamlet—as well as marshlands, streams and kettle ponds. In the direction of the front yard was the bay, its water a glimmering mirror; its harbor, lighthouse and jetty, a postcard.
“I’ve worked on a lot of houses and I’ve seen a lot of incredible views, but this perspective beats them all,” Nick commented.
“Yeah. It’s hard to choose which way to look because there’s so much beauty in every direction and I don’t want to miss any of it.”
But since they’d come to see the sun set, they faced west. Ivy was right: they arrived just in time. The sky over the bay was streaked with enough clouds to emphasize the dramatic hues—orange and yellow, pink and purple—without obscuring the golden sun as it dipped closer and closer to the horizon.
They were both quiet, squinting toward the horizon as the disc appeared to slip behind the bay. When it did, they automatically applauded; a popular Dune Island tradition. But Zoey continued to watch the setting. She’d always liked the after-effects of the sunset as much as the sunset itself, especially at low tide, when long rows of shallow pools reflected the pink sky and contrasted with intermittent strips of damp, dark sand. And because she didn’t know when she’d have the opportunity to chat with Nick alone again, this evening she particularly wanted to linger in the dusky glow.
“I’m glad you’re going to work on Aunt Ivy’s kitchen. She’s really excited about it and it will be nice to see you around,” she hinted.
“Yeah, I’m glad, too. I wish I could do the entire project right away, but like I said, I’ve got to work straight out for the next couple of weeks and it will have to fit in around that. It was a slow winter, and right now the island is inundated with seasonal carpenters. They come here to work for guys who’ve been in business here a lot longer than I have. So I can’t afford to turn down any projects. Especially since I, uh, I’ve got a, a kind of major debt I need to repay ASAP.”
Ordinarily, Zoey would have considered it prying to ask about his finances, even if he was the one to bring it up. But he seemed so nervous that it made her uneasy, too. “Like, what, a gambling debt?” she questioned, only half-joking.
