“I hope it didn’t traumatize you.”
“Not at all. I found it . . . curious.”
“Good for you. Lots of men have ponytails today, so I’m no longer a curiosity. And by the way, you were only three when I built that room. You were a happy little girl.” He cocked a half smile and stood up. “Evelyn mentioned there might be some iced tea in the fridge?”
“Help yourself. It’s very good.”
“I’d put money on it that your grandmother taught Evelyn how to make it. I have no idea who’ll be able to take Nancy’s place teaching kids the important parts of island life.” He snorted, not in a cynical way, but in the sad way that grief sometimes triggers.
* * *
Joe returned with tea and cookies (yes, he clearly knew where they were stashed) and sat back down. Just as he took a bite, Evelyn arrived. She was carrying two large bags.
“Oh, good, you have a visitor,” she said as if she’d had no idea Joe would be there. She settled onto one of the chairs facing Maddie and handed her the bags. “I had time between my engagements to pick up a few things for you. I wasn’t sure if Nancy had a washer and dryer in the cottage, and I expect you’ll be staying on the island a bit longer than you’d planned.”
Maddie opened the bags: one held two cotton nightgowns and three short-sleeve tops, each in a different pastel; the other had a lightweight denim jacket and two elastic-waist, A-line skirts, one white, one denim. Both skirts had pockets. “For carrying things when you’re on crutches,” Evelyn said.
Maddie was stunned.
“Did I guess the sizes correctly?” her new patron asked.
“I’m sure they’ll be fine. And thank you so much. I’ll reimburse you . . .”
“No, you won’t. Consider them get-well gifts to my old friend’s daughter. I thought the skirts would be better than shorts—they’ll be easier for you to get in and out of without worrying about the cast. There are some new underthings in there, too.”
“Thank you, Evelyn. It’s so thoughtful.”
The woman smiled. “Believe me, it’s my pleasure. Now,” she said matter-of-factly, “did you have lunch?”
“Yes. It was delicious.”
Evelyn turned to Joe. “And I see you found the cookies.”
“Right where they always are,” Joe said. “You want one? Or some tea?”
“Thanks, but no. I only had salad for lunch, but my meeting at the library included coffee and carrot cake with wonderful cream cheese frosting.”
Judging by her slim physique, Evelyn didn’t often indulge in cake.
“So,” she asked Joe, “have you been entertaining my houseguest with tales of the good old days?”
“Only a little. I didn’t want to bore her.”
“And did you tell her everything . . . important?”
He paused. He blinked. “Depends on what you mean.” He turned to Maddie and gave her a half smile again, which made her wonder what Evelyn was talking about.
“You know full well what I mean. Did you tell Maddie about your parents? Specifically, your father?” She eyed him with a narrow look that hinted,Don’t make me pry it out of you.
When Joe didn’t reply, Maddie braced herself in case whatever was coming next was going to make her uncomfortable. She could have been having another intuitive moment, or was just being insecure.
Evelyn folded her hands in her lap. “Joe’s been a friend of my family’s—and my late husband’s—for as long as any of us can remember.”
Again, the caretaker made no comment. Instead, he stared into his glass of tea as if he was reading leaves that were on the bottom.
“Isn’t that right, Joe?” Evelyn demanded. “And, by the way, that was your cue to tell Maddie what you were going to tell her.”
Yes, Maddie’s intuition had been trying to tell her something. That time, it felt like a warning.
