“My dad and his wife are in Kennebunk and won’t be home ’til Sunday. And I don’t have a key to their house.” Which Annie supposed made sense, as they’d once thought that Meghan would never again be back in Boston, back in one piece.
“Okay, I’ll stop badgering you. Let’s change the subject. Tomorrow our honeymoon couple will be checking out. They want to be on the two thirty, but first, they have to return their rental car at the airport. I’ll take them there, then to the boat. We’ll need to leave the Inn by twelve thirty to allow for traffic. If you want to come with us, maybe you and I can do something fun after. Like go to the Ag Fair?”
“I can hitch a ride, right?” It was a voice Annie hadn’t wanted to hear.
Against her better instincts, she turned around. Simon stood behind them, his grin as off-putting as his presence. She wondered how long he’d been listening.
“You turn up at the most inappropriate times, Mr. Anderson,” she said, not trying to mask her irritation.
He sidled up next to her.
“Tomorrow is Saturday. I have to pick up my rental car, or did you forget? As long as you’ll be going to the airport . . .”
So much for using someone else as her backup plan. “Yes, of course. You’re welcome to come with us. Though it will be a tight fit, what with the luggage.” She did her best not to grimace.
Then fireworks burst against the now-darkened sky, and Annie led the way back to the party, the once-pleasant evening now curdled, her mood once again spoiled.
* * *
The next morning, the breakfast table was full. Simon was there, too, perhaps having foregone his boiled eggs because he no longer was concerned about unwanted gawkers. The buzz was louder, more amiable than it had been before, thanks to the previous night’s socializing. There was nothing like a little beer, wine, good food, and fireworks to put people in friendly spirits.
After homemade granola with deep purple elderberries and succulent peaches, cheesy chive-scrambled eggs, and warm oat nut toast drizzled with MV local honey had been polished off, Francine presented the honeymooners with a loaf of her seven-grain bread. Early on, she’d decided to start a tradition of giving bread to guests on their checkout day as a thank-you-for-staying-with-us gift. Tied with aqua raffia ribbon and a matching, bountiful bow, the gift not only looked lovely but also smelled scrumptious.
“Nice touch,” the groom said. “Homey.”
“Like the Inn,” the bride added.
Then the couple went upstairs to pack, and the others dispersed to whatever activities they’d planned for their Saturday.
Annie cleared the table then began to scrape remnants from the dishes and into the compost bin. “There’s been a change of plans for one of our guests,” she told Francine. “Mary Beth will be leaving tomorrow.”
“Oh, too bad. Did she finish her research?”
Annie hesitated before saying what would be on the shadowy side of a white lie. “I’m not sure. Apparently something’s come up and she needs to get back to Boston.” She was proud of herself that she hadn’t said the thing that had come up was that Meghan had learned about Kevin’s new life. Whatever it was.
Francine stopped loading the dishwasher and gazed out the window toward the harbor. “We have lots of names on the waiting list. I’m sure we can have the room rebooked by the time she leaves. Then we can reimburse her for the rest of her reservation. She paid in full up front, remember?”
But Annie shook her head. “Reimburse her. But let’s not take another reservation, okay? I’m really tired. And you must be, too. Maybe I’ll move into Mary Beth’s room while Simon and his sidekick are still here.”
“Or you could take the honeymoon suite. Our next couple won’t be here until Thursday, the same day Simon leaves. Then you can go back to the cottage.”
A flood of loss washed over Annie again. She would have hoped that by now she’d know how to handle her feelings when someone she’d grown to care about—in this case, Meghan, definitely not Simon—was slipping out of her life. It was bad enough to lose Meghan before Annie had really gotten to know her. But could Annie stay in the honeymoon suite? Without John? Right now, it would seem ironic. In a very dark, miserable way.
She scraped a cereal bowl that she’d already scraped. “Right now I need the rest more than we need the cash.”
“Okay,” Francine replied. “I get it. And yes, I’m tired, too.”
Francine, of course, would be leaving soon. And Bella. The thought of more loneliness pressed a small bruise onto Annie’s heart. “In a couple of weeks you’ll be back in Minnesota. Back at your aunt’s house. Back in school.”
“Three weeks,” Francine added, as she, too, grew pensive. “It’s going to be hard to leave again.”
“Because of Jonas?”
She nodded. “And the Inn. Bella will miss everyone, too. She’s gotten spoiled this summer from the endless attention.”
“It’s been no more than she’s deserved. Life is short, Francine. We need to love the people we love every minute.”
“Like John?”
