At least, I didn’t think so. Not at the spring. Although…
“Nice that the girls are continuing with the books,” Beverly said.
I nodded while my mind spun through possible scenarios, trying to think like a fourteen-year-old girl. (Honestly? Not that hard.) But I couldn’t remember Anne Shirley doing much at the beach. Taking the ferry, maybe. Admiring the view.
“Mom, is it okay if I take off for about an hour?”
“I think I can manage without you,” Mom said dryly.
Of course she could. She’d been managing by herself for as long as I could remember. Her stubborn self-reliance had always made me feel pretty superfluous, but…well, it freed me, didn’t it? To do anything I wanted. To be anything I wanted.
If only I knew what that was.
I thought I’d known, once upon a time. I’d hadplans. Which had not included reenacting scenes from my favorite childhood classic with a couple of teenagers. But this was my social life now.
“I can stay until Della comes,” Zoe said from behind the counter.
I glanced at Beverly. “Are you sure?”
Beverly smiled faintly. “Go. I have a book.” She held it up so I could see the cover.Sense and Sensibility.“I don’t mind waiting.”
“Because I’m worth waiting for,” Zoe said.
A look, wry and full of affection, passed between them. Their marriage, in a nutshell.
And there it was, the life I’d dreamed of and read about. A piece of it, anyway. The thing I thought I’d found withChris. My Fated Mate. My One True Love. Someone who wouldn’t mind when I was late/messy/distracted/disorganized because, in their eyes, I was worth waiting for.
Until I wasn’t.
I took off my apron. I was up for a challenge. Better than hanging around hoping Joe could make time for me.
Plus, Hailey had texted me. She wanted me to be there. Or at least she wouldn’t mind if I showed up.
—
When I wassix, Mom decided I should learn to ride my bike. Daddy took the training wheels off, and the next week or so was agony for us both. He would run beside me, puffing encouragement and warnings, gripping the seat while I clutched the handlebars, both of us equally terrified I would fall. After I’d bloodied both knees and scraped my elbow, my mother took over. I remember pushing off, more afraid of her displeasure than the ground flashing under my tires, her hand on the back of my seat holding me steady as she shouted, “Pedal, pedal, go!” Picking up speed, my jaw set, my legs pumping, the wind in my face and my hair, and then somehow I was flying, pedaling on my own.
She’d taught me to be free.
Funny, how I hadn’t thought of it that way before.
Now I unlocked my bike with its floppy flowered basket and took off for the southeast corner of the island. It was a relief to be moving, to have somewhere to go. The sky was as blue as a robin’s egg, and the air was sharp and clear, and beyond the ribbon of pavement, the blue-green water sparkled in the sun.
Pedal, pedal, go, dodging bikers, skateboarders, and pedestrians. Along Main Street, past Mission Point, and out of town. A wall of trees rose tall and green on my left. On my right, the lake lapped against tumbled rocks and pebbled beaches.
I coasted as I approached the marker for the springs, my eyes scanning the shore. White boats in the channel. Bicycles abandoned at the foot of the narrow stairway cutting up the hill toward Arch Rock. A yellow kayak, bobbing in the waves. A tall blond girl standing on a boulder, filming on her phone.
“Liv!” I called.
She flashed a smile over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the water. To the kayak. To…
I dropped my bike by the side of the path. “Is that Hailey?”
Lying back awkwardly in the open kayak, her dark hair spilling over the side, floating on the water. Not paddling, not moving, a bouquet of Queen Anne’s lace in her folded hands. A laugh gurgled in my throat.
“What are you doing?” I asked, but I knew.
“She’s the Lady of Shalott.”
