He smiled; Maddie could tell that his bottom teeth were crooked and overcrowded and, yes, they appeared to be in need of braces. Lisa had been truthful, which Maddie found nicely reassuring.
It turned out that having an escort wasn’t her only surprise. When she and Charlie reached the backyard, Brandon greeted her. He quickly introduced Jeremy, who, with silver hair and pewter-colored eyes, was dressed in all white—shirt, long white pants, and sandals—and he wore a grin as broad as Brandon’s. Maddie was charmed. It turned out that Lisa knew them through Nancy. Of course.
Then Lisa appeared with her daughter, who, like Charlie, examined Maddie’s cast. Then Maddie met Mickey, Lisa’s husband, who was tending to corn on the cob on the grill. He was tall, thin, and tanned, perhaps like many fishermen.
And then, from the house, came Evelyn, carrying a large platter of oysters that she set atop a wooden picnic table.
“Evelyn . . . ,” Maddie said, making her way to the table. “I’m so glad to see you. I’m sorry for sneaking out—”
But Evelyn stopped her. “No apologies, dear. You were overwhelmed. You’ve had more than your share of surprises in the past days. Now make yourself comfortable. And have an oyster.”
The evening was joyful—and the most fun Maddie had in a long time.
They ate and ate and drank lots of iced tea. And they laughed, mostly at Brandon’s way of telling stories about the island when he’d been young. When Jeremy produced a fiddle, Evelyn taught them a few old sailing songs, and they sang and laughed a little more. It was fabulous.
Then, as sunset approached, Brandon drove Maddie and his mother to the beach while the rest of their party walked. When he dropped them off, he gave them each a folding chair. The women stayed on the pavement at the edge of the sand, away from young kids licking soft-serve cones from the Galley, and from teenagers, who still wore their skimpy swimwear, though the time for sunning was long past.
“Well,” Maddie said when she and Evelyn were alone. “It’s been such a nice evening. My new clothes fit perfectly. Thank you again.”
“They look nice on you,” Evelyn said. “I’m glad you like them. And I do hope you’re feeling more comfortable here, Maddie. Not that it matters if you’re planning to leave.”
“Mmm,” Maddie said as she looked at the crowd on the beach, out over the water, and up to the late-day sky. “I’m hoping to get tenure this year. I’ve worked hard to get it.” It seemed as if she’d said that too many times. Maybe she was trying to remind herself not to get sidetracked from her goal.
“I’m sure you have. You’re your mother’s daughter. She worked hard, too. At her art.”
“But how could she ever have left the island, Evelyn? And why didn’t she tell me about our heritage?”
Evelyn sighed. “I know she was in love with your dad. And I know she was afraid if she stayed here she’d never paint anything more than Menemsha sunsets.”
“But they’re so beautiful.”
“Yes, they are. But your father unintentionally opened a new world for her, and she saw the chance to step into it. But I know she loved it here—it was home, after all. And don’t forget she brought you back every summer to see your grandmother. I think she would have kept coming if . . .”
Maddie closed her eyes for a few seconds. Then she said, “I know. But I don’t understand why she pretended to be Iberian.”
“Oh, honey,” Evelyn said, patting Maddie’s hand, “there are some things about people that we’ll never figure out. But I don’t think she was trying to hide her heritage; I think she simply wanted to wait until you were a little older. Old enough to understand. As one of—at the time—only a couple of hundred tribal members, maybe she was afraid you’d feel stigmatized on the mainland.” She paused. “I do know that Hannah was never malicious. And that, above all, she was proud of being Wampanoag.”
They sat for a moment, watching the sky glow red and yellow, a perfect replica of her mother’s paintings. Then the rest of their party arrived, and the orange ball dropped into the sea. The applause burst out; cheers filled the air.
And Maddie smiled.
Chapter 15
One week.
When Maddie woke up late Sunday morning, she couldn’t believe she’d been on the island only a week. With all that had happened, it seemed more like a month. Or a year. But as nice as last night had been, she knew she had to be careful not to get drawn in by her new friends; the island, after all, was their home, not hers. If they were on a mission to keep her from selling the cottage to wealthy summer people who’d tear it down and build a concrete-and-glass monstrosity, Maddie had no control over that. Maybe Brandon could lobby for a town ordinance that dictated housing parameters. If there wasn’t already one.
And if anyone planned to encourage her to give the parcels in Aquinnah back to the tribe, she would have to deal with that. After all, the land had been theirs in the first place. And yet . . .
She wished she knew what her grandmother would want her to do.
After foregoing the rigmarole of taking a shower, she washed and dressed in the new denim skirt and one of her old tops. Then she went into the kitchen, hunting for breakfast. She’d long since finished Lisa’s bread, and everything else was lunch or dinner food. Including the pizza still in the freezer. So she settled on coffee.
Once it started to brew, she sat at the table and checked her phone: a message from Brandon had arrived an hour earlier.
Fun time last night. Jeremy likes you. Check your front door.
Curious, she got up and unlocked the door. A small bag hung from the knob; inside were three plump blueberry muffins and a note.
