Mid-morning on Friday, in spite of the big table, two shifts were needed for breakfast: first, for the tenants; second, for the rest of them—Annie, John, Earl, Claire, Lucy, Francine, Jonas, Bella, Marty, Bill, Kevin, Taylor, and . . . Rex, who had made a custom recipe of eggs Florentine with tender, sweet scallops.
Abigail didn’t come—Lucy said her sister had gone home to Edgartown, that she was too embarrassed about having picked a boyfriend who’d hurt everyone so badly. Annie hoped that, in time, she could help Abigail understand that no one blamed her.
The conversation was lively, the spirits were high.
“Here’s to family,” Earl said, lifting his mug of java in a toast.
“Of which we all are a big part,” Claire added, clinking her mug against Earl’s.
“Hear, hear!” Kevin said.
Then Rex stood up, a glass of orange juice in hand. “And I have another toast. To my sister and brother-in-law. Who are about to become the proud owners of the family home on Chappaquiddick.”
The jovial conversation came to a sudden halt. Some eyes stared at Rex, the others at Kevin.
Finally, Kevin spoke. “Not that I want to challenge you, Rex, but could you maybe elaborate?”
Rex laughed. “I know I’ve probably freaked some of you out these past couple of weeks.” His glance flicked to Annie. “The truth is, I’d forgotten what it’s like to live on the island. When that little girl was missing, I watched everyone pull together. I walked around, just watching, maybe a little too often. But all the while I was thinking, ‘This is the Vineyard, this is a great place. And this is my home.’” He paused, cleared his throat, and continued. “I know I wasn’t too popular when I was a kid. . . .”
“You can say that again,” Earl grumbled, and Rex laughed again.
“Thanks, Earl. I deserved that. But I like to think I’ve grown up since then. And as it happens, I’d forgotten about that little piece of property Dad won at the derby. The one where they found Bella. It turns out Dad had authorized Attorney Johnson—Sophie Johnson’s father—to fix up the cabin and rent it out in summers. When old man Johnson died, the paperwork got lost, so Sophie just kept doing what her dad had been doing. She said she figured that sooner or later it would get resolved. I went out to look at it early this morning; I decided it would be a decent place to live. Maybe I’ll even meet a nice lady somewhere on this godforsaken island. The last woman bailed on me—well, that’s another story.” He looked at Annie; she offered him a small smile.
His small audience was silent, as if awaiting his next confession.
“Oh,” he added, “did I forget to mention that Dad left the cabin to my sister? It’s not worth as much as the house on Chappy, but I’d consider it an even swap. If you’re interested, Taylor? There’s even some cash from the rentals that we can split; maybe I’ll use my share to open an up-island restaurant—one that stays open year-round. I think they’d be happy to have one up there. And, Taylor, you can buy a new cello or two.”
The silence turned to murmurs.
Earl stood up and shook Rex’s hand.
“I think those are dandy ideas,” Earl said. “A house, a new cello or two, and I heard a rumor that Taylor’s also getting a new truck. What more could a girl want?”
And everyone laughed because how could they not?
After Earl sat down, Jonas stood.
“I think I’ve said ‘I’m sorry’ more times in these past days than I have in my whole life.”
“Without a doubt,” Earl interrupted. “So, please, don’t say it again. There’s no need, my boy.”
Jonas nodded shyly. He glanced at Francine, who smiled up at him and nodded.
“I also want to say something to Marty and Bill,” he said. “Speaking for Francine, Bella, and me, we’re really glad you’re here. But what I’m going to say next might upset you, and we’re sorry for that. We’re going to stay here on the island. We both love it here. We don’t know where we’ll live yet, but we’re going to try and get our own place. I’m going to sell the place in Hawaii; it makes no sense to hang on to it when we’d rather be here. But we’ll make sure we have a place that’s big enough for you to come and visit.” Then he sat down.
Kevin looked at Annie; she knew he must be thinking about the workshop and how he’d better get cracking to finish fixing it into a nice little home for Francine and Jonas and their kids. Annie felt sure that Kevin wanted to say it now, but he kept silent; perhaps he’d tell them later, when they were alone.
Then John stood up. “I have no toast to make and no big announcement. Other than to say I’m glad this all worked out and that Bella’s safe. But I do have to get to work now, because at least one of us has a real job.” He didn’t mention that Caleb had been arraigned Thursday afternoon or that no one had posted bail. He picked up his empty breakfast plate and added, “Oh, and I know I’ll see all of you here a week from today for the wedding of the century.”
He kissed Annie on the cheek, said he’d see her later, and soon after that, the party dispersed.
* * *
A week from todaywasn’t easy for Annie to digest. She spread the ugly wedding dress out on her bed and tried to assess if Abigail really would be able to save the day or, at least, the dress. It was easier to think about than to wonder if Annie’s agent, Louisa, was going to fire her as a client or if Trish would pull her next book deal before Annie had finished writing it. She knew she had to face that her writing career might be over and done with. “Creative differences” was the term she’d often heard when an agent or publisher cut ties with an author.
Dwelling on the dress might also be easier to think about than the actual wedding plans.
Then she had another thought:a week from today. Wasn’t today the last day they could get the marriage license? Wasn’t there a seven-day waiting period in Massachusetts?
