“Not really,” Maddie said. “Except I’m afraid there aren’t any baskets in here, after all.”
* * *
Francine put the dolls and the beach towel inside the back door of the cottage, then the adults said their goodbyes, and Maddie thanked Rex again for his help. Francine invited Maddie to come to “Chappy” to see the Inn whenever she had the chance. She added that one of them would love to give her an unofficial golf cart tour of their island. Both Francine and Rex were so nice, Maddie didn’t want to tell them she’d be there only a few more days. Or that she couldn’t drive with the cast still on her foot. She didn’t want them to think she didn’t like the Vineyard. Or worse, didn’t like them.
It was odd, however, that the outbuilding was empty. Especially since the cottage was filled with so many bits and pieces. And yet, there were no signs of the baskets that Grandma had apparently loved making.
But, buoyed by the company, Maddie set the dolls back on the sofa and opened all the windows and the doors.
Then she thought of someone who might know how—and why—the baskets were no longer there.
Chapter 13
Joe answered his phone on the first ring.
“Afraid I can’t help,” he said after Maddie asked if he knew why the shed had been locked but was empty. “Except to say that my sister didn’t always do what one might expect.”
“I guess it doesn’t matter,” Maddie replied. “It seemed curious, that’s all.” She was at the kitchen table again, seated where she’d decided it was easiest to get up and down when she wanted. She again rested her leg on the opposite chair—she figured that was elevated enough, as nearly seventy-two hours had passed.
“Right. Well, I’m glad you got to meet Rex,” Joe said. “He’s a character. Had his share of troubles when he was younger but turned out a decent man. Dependable, too.”
She was beginning to think that most of the island people could be called “characters.” The “tapestry” of the island, as Brandon had said.
“But I’m glad you called,” Joe continued. “I was going to check in later. How’s the foot?”
“Fine. It hardly hurts right now.”
“Good. ’Cuz I wanted to ask if you’d feel up to a ride tomorrow.”
“A ride? Where?”
“I was going to suggest a kayak, but that might be tough on your leg. So how about a canoe?”
“You want me to go somewhere in a canoe? It sounds great, but is it a good idea with this cast? What if it gets wet? What if we capsize?” As soon as she said that, she was embarrassed.
“I usually take people in separate kayaks. But it will be safer if you’re in the canoe. With me. As for capsizing . . . first, you’ll be wearing a life vest. Second, I haven’t tipped a canoe in all of my sixty-seven years. Not counting the times I did it on purpose.”
She laughed. “You tipped a canoe intentionally?”
“Sure. Lots of times. Kid stuff. But you’ll be perfectly safe. I thought you’d like to experience a piece of your . . . heritage.”
She paused, then asked, “What piece?”
“The flat waters. Calm waters. Not the ocean. We can start in Menemsha Pond and go to Nashaquitsa, then Stonewall. They’re some of the waters our ancestors cared for, where our tribe runs a hatchery and a natural herring run, and where the shellfishing is great. The ponds are also known for their rich eelgrass beds, tons of birds, and all kinds of island wildlife.” Then he added, “The waters give us so much, Maddie. And we give back to them by keeping our commitment to take care of them.”
Listening to Joe, Maddie felt thousands of miles from Green Hills, from her small college office, from her father. From her world.
“If you don’t believe me,” Joe added, his voice sparkling now, “believe the carbon dating that proves that our Wampanoag link to the ponds goes back ten thousand years.”
She was speechless. She ran a finger around the top of her cast and wondered how her ancestors would have treated a broken bone. Whatever their medicinal methods, she sensed they were often successful.
She inhaled, slowly exhaled. “I guess I’d be foolish not to take you up on it.”
“It’s up to you. But I expect that your grandmother would have wanted you to know a few things about our past.”
If he was trying to guilt her into going, it was working. “No pressure, right?”
He laughed. “None at all.”
