So this was not about John, but Kevin. Annie didn’t want to talk about either one of them.
“Maybe Jonas can pitch in?” she tossed out. “He was a big help in the spring, wasn’t he?”
Earl fiddled with the brim of his cap from last year’s fishing derby. He’d barely worn his Red Sox cap since Ortiz retired. “True. He was. But I wonder if the boy has other plans.”
Annie scowled. “Such as?”
“Such as you’d better ask him. Or better yet, ask Francine.”
The longer Annie lived, the more complicated life became. She turned off the computer, closed the lid, and returned it to its hiding place in the front desk. “Or I could ask you again. And maybe this time you’ll give me an answer that will save me a whole bunch of time.”
Earl chuckled. “I think we’ve been matchmaking without knowing it.”
Cocking her head, she said, “They haven’t exactly been hiding the fact that they’re fond of each other.”
“Fond of each other? Ha! You sound like a hovering mama.”
“Do I?”
He rubbed his chin. “Well, I suppose you’re entitled. I’m afraid, however, that this thing with them is beyond fondness. When she goes back to school, I think he wants to go with her.”
Sometimes surprises were good. This one certainly was. But Annie was weary of trying to speculate about what was going on with the people she loved. Or wait until who-knew-when for clarification. So she excused herself and went into the kitchen to talk to Francine. But apparently the girl—correction, the young woman—had left for the day. Annie went back to the reading room and promised Earl she’d get to the bottom of things. It didn’t matter if it would be inconvenient for Jonas to leave, too . . . Annie’s heart swelled to think that he and Francine would be together. With Bella. A nice little family.
But before she could fully resuscitate a good mood, Simon ambled around the corner.
“Ready when you are!” he announced in his polished, news anchor voice. He was, of course, oblivious to the boulder that had just landed in Annie’s stomach.
“Actually,” she said as she flicked her gaze to Earl so quickly it surprised her, “I was about to ask Earl if he’d mind following our guests to the airport in his pickup. And bringing you to get your rental. I’ve been barraged by requests from my editor, so I have a ton of paperwork to do.”Please save me, Earl,she thought.
Earl stepped up, not missing a beat. “Call me Earl Uber,” he said. “Ever since I turned sixteen, I’ve chauffeured so many folks back and forth to the boat and the airport I ought to be on the payroll for the chamber of commerce.” He grinned at Simon, his eyes steady on his, as if daring him to say, “No, thanks. I’ll make other arrangements.”
“Well, I’ll be grateful,” the celebrity guest replied. “It will be fun. When I was a kid, my dad delivered theGlobeto the newsstands; my older brother and I sat in the bed of his pickup and heaved bundles onto the sidewalks. So our trip to the airport will bring back fond memories.”
“Not to disappoint you, but you’ll need to ride in the cab. We save the bed for the livestock.” It was perfectly timed sarcasm, for which Annie wanted to hug him. Then Earl turned to her. “You want to let the honeymooners know that their Uber awaits, while I go clean my junk out of the back? We’ll stash their suitcases there. Unless Simon prefers the hay.” He chuckled again and meandered away without admitting that he did not own as much as a chicken, let alone livestock.
Then Simon said to Annie, “Too bad, though. I was hoping you and I would have a chance to talk.”
“Sorry,” Annie said, copying Earl’s grin. “Duty calls.” She swished from the room, then dashed up the stairs and ran into the honeymooners halfway up while they were heading down. She said good-bye and told them Earl was waiting for them outside. She took the rest of the stairs two at a time, feigning to clean their room, when instead she was hoping to avoid seeing Simon again.
* * *
Francine had brought Bella to Jonas’s in time for a nap, so Annie arranged for Claire to babysit the Inn for a few hours, which would leave plenty of time for Annie and Meghan to spend the whole afternoon together at the fair. Over the past months, it was apparent that the Inn could run smoothly on its own for a short time, so she told Claire to leave by five o’clock if they weren’t yet back.
Soon Annie and Meghan were strolling through sawdust, watching sheep shearing, horse draws, and pig races, and surveying the 4-H entries of roosters and chickens, rabbits, goats, and more. After a couple of hours, when they’d seen all the animals, they had veggie tempura on a stick from a food truck, sat at a picnic table and people-watched a while, and splurged on a big dose of ice cream. Meghan exclaimed that the fair was “wicked awesome,” a testament to her Boston roots.
But Annie had saved the best for last: the Ag Hall. The building itself was a treasure—a century-old, post-and-beam barn that had been reconstructed on the new, more spacious fairgrounds nearly three decades earlier. They went into the barn to admire the abundant showcases of flowers and vegetables and the artful displays of watercolors, acrylics, and mixed media. Annie was determined to stay clear of the booth where she’d seen Abigail.
When they turned toward the pottery displays, Annie spotted Winnie ahead. “Follow me,” she said. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
Though she hadn’t wanted to, Annie introduced her as Mary Beth.
They hit it off right away. As Annie watched Meghan examine Winnie’s work while asking questions about the clay, the process, and the beautiful striations of the glazes, she wished that Winnie knew who Meghan really was. She’d be bound to agree that Meghan and Kevin were a good match.
Meghan selected a lovely bowl that highlighted the colors of the Gay Head Cliffs—red, orange, and gold.
“Not unlike the clay in the caves of your ancestors,” Winnie said. “If I’m correct in thinking your heritage is Middle Eastern?”
Annie was again reminded of Winnie’s far-reaching insight.
