He raised an eyebrow at her. “You got the job?”
“I received an offer, yes, but—”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks, but the muffins are in celebration of my aunt coming home today after spending her first night off-island in, well, I guess it was six years ago, for my sister’s funeral.”
“Oh.” Nick brushed a crumb from his lip. “I hope she was off-island for a happy occasion today?”
Not really.“Mark took her for a tour of an assisted living facility.”
“Wow. Is she just dipping her toe in the water or is she seriously considering moving?”
“She’s serious about it.”Unfortunately.
“Hmm.” Nick reached for a second muffin. “Which facility is she touring?”
Zoey bristled.What doesthatmatter?“It’s called Waterside. In Plymouth.”
“I’ve heard that’s one of the better ones.”
“That might well be, but it’s still not her home.Thisis her home.” Zoey made a sweeping gesture with her arms. She felt as if she’d had this conversation before, but with Mark, not with Nick. “You’ve heard her stories. You’re remodeling her kitchen. It seems like it would be obvious to you how much she loves it here and wants to stay.”
He held up his hands defensively. “Whether your aunt goes or stays is her business—it’s your family’s business—not mine. All I’m interested in is whether I should move forward with remodeling this kitchen. Because if there’s no need for me to remove these tiles, I’ve got a major renovation I need to start for another client. So what’s it going to be—should I stop yakking and get to work here or what?”
For a second, Zoey was too stunned by his tone to reply. Her cheeks blazing, she plucked her phone from the countertop, turned toward the hallway and replied in a squeaky voice, “Yes, please continue working on the kitchen unless Aunt Ivy tells you not to. I’m going for a walk, so I’ll be out of your way.”
She hurried outside and down the street. Perching on a bench in the park by the harbor, she wondered why there’d been such a dramatic shift in Nick’s attitude.It’s as if I hardly know him—or as ifhehardly knowsus. She’d thought he cared about Ivy; that was one of the very things that won Zoey over and made her like him so much. And she’d thought he cared abouther, too, at least as a friend. But he was acting as if his only connection to them was professional, not personal.
So then were all of those kind, thoughtful, over-the-top nice things he did just an act? Was all of that just so he could retain Aunt Ivy’s business?Zoey was doubtful; Nick said he had a major renovation he needed to start for another client, which certainly must have been more lucrative than anything Ivy had contracted him to do.
No, his behavior had to have been genuine. Something must have changed between the time he saw her on Friday and today.Maybe dealing with Aunt Ivy’s heart problem and Mark’s temper was too much for him and he decided from now on, he only wanted a business relationship with us? Or maybe he’s just stressed out? Hehasbeen really busy.
Zoey understood why he might have been irritated by her yammering on about her family situation when he had work to do, so she didn’t blame him for shutting the conversation down. But the way he did it made it seem as if he was shutting theirfriendshipdown.Or am I overreacting becauseI’mstressed out?
As she was pondering Nick’s remarks, Gabi ambled around from behind the bench. “Hi, Aunt Zoey. You look nice.” She sat down beside her. “Nick said I just missed you. I didn’t see you on my way home so I figured you walked in this direction instead.”
“Hi, Gabi. How was your day?”
“It was okay. But I have to tell you something.”
Uh-oh.Zoey braced herself. “Is it bad news?”
“It’ssadnews.” Her niece glanced toward the lighthouse. “I found out that Mr. Witherell died this the weekend.”
“What? No way. Did the kids at school tell you that?”
“Yeah, but I looked it up online, too. Give me your phone, I’ll show you.”
She handed it to her and Gabi pulled up the obituary online. When Zoey saw the namePhineas,she gasped, knowing the rumor had to be true. There was only one Phineas on Dune Island. Or therehad beenonly one.
Zoey sniffed as she read the death notice. It didn’t take long; in addition to his birth and death dates, it listed his time of service as a lighthouse keeper and named his niece, Melissa Carter, of North Carolina, as his only surviving relative. It said there would be no public memorial or funeral services.
Whether or not he once dated her aunt Sylvia and whether or not he was Mark’s grandfather, Mr. Witherell had been a part of her aunt Ivy’s history. He’d been part of Dune Island’s history, too, and it disturbed Zoey that his entire life had been condensed into a few sentences. “Didn’t anyone care about him or know him well enough to write a few words about what he was like as aperson?”
“I don’t think he would have wanted anyone to do that. He didn’t like public attention.” Gabi patted Zoey’s shoulder. “But Aunt Ivy cared about him enough to invite him over for pie. And she knew him well enough to say what he was like. She said it in private, in the stories she told us about him. But that’s still kind of memorializing him, isn’t it?”
If Zoey hadn’t been wearing mascara, she would have given in to the impulse to cry. Partly because niece was right; their aunthadknown and cared about Mr. Witherell. And partly because Ivy might not have known him as well as she thought she did. Also because Zoey realized her chances of finding out whether Marcus Jr. was Mr. Witherell’s son may have died along with the old man.
