“I’ll do my best.” Rex bowed and disappeared through the swinging doors into the kitchen.
Maddie laughed. “Do you two always trade barbs?”
“Absolutely. Barbs are good among friends.”
She had an urge to ask if Rex was married or involved with someone. It was something she hadn’t wondered about anyone in a long time. But aside from being too timid to ask, she knew it would be pointless. Even if Rex were available, it hardly mattered. Maddie would be gone sooner than later.
Their champagne arrived along with an appetizer of six oysters accented with fresh lemon wedges. They each were served a delectable-looking pink sauce in a small dipping bowl. Brandon’s sauce came with a note from Rex:
The sauce is a mignonette. That’s French for “Eat it. You’ll like it.”
“Oooh, oysters,” came a woman’s voice from behind Maddie. “Bet they don’t have those where you come from. Not fresh ones, anyways.”
Maddie turned her head and saw CiCi. That day, the real estate agent was dressed in a white A-line shift that seemed too short for a woman her age. She wore chunky beads in rainbow colors and matching earrings that dangled to her shoulders and evoked “thrift shop.” She was smiling, though, which buffered her attire.
“Hello, CiCi,” Maddie said, trying to be kind. “Do you know Brandon?”
“Attorney Morgan, of course I do.” CiCi nodded; Brandon nodded in return. “So you two are a long way from up-island. What brings you to Edgartown?”
Brandon looked at his plate. “Lunch.”
CiCi tee-heed, which she also was too old to do. Maddie almost felt sorry for her. “Well, because you’re in a restaurant, I guess lunch is an appropriate activity.”
She was trying to be funny, Maddie thought, so she smiled. “What brings you here, CiCi?”
“Oh, a client,” she said with an elongated sigh. “So many clients these days. Speaking of which, I have a couple of folks who are very interested in your property, Maddie. I think you’d be wise to list it before the season’s over. Get your best price while the skies are sunny, you know?” She pursed her pink-painted lips.
“I still haven’t decided, but I have your card.”
CiCi nodded. “Well, okay, then. I promise I won’t bug you. Enjoy your meal. Ta-ta!” She swished away as if she were a ballroom dancer.
Brandon looked at Maddie. “Were you putting her off or are you serious?”
“About what?” Maddie asked as she dipped her seafood fork in the sauce, poked it into an oyster, then slid it into her mouth.
“You told her you haven’t decided. I thought it was a done deal that you’re going to sell.”
She chewed, shrugged, swallowed. “I’m going to wait for my son’s input. After all, he’s going to find out that he’s part Wampanoag, too. His opinion deserves consideration.”
“Good idea. I wish I could meet him, but Jeremy and I have to go back to Boston tomorrow. We both have work to do up there. But we’ll be back in a few days.”
Their lunch of scallops and fresh greens arrived. The presentation was dazzling.
“These look fabulous,” Maddie said. “Let’s check out your wedding menu and see if they’re on it.”
Brandon handed her the menu. At least he didn’t ask if her indecision about selling the property had anything to do with how she’d lowered her gaze and blushed when Rex had complimented her. Maybe he hadn’t noticed.
* * *
She didn’t get home until after five o’clock. Her foot was hurting. Big-time.
It was almost three hours since she’d had the champagne, so she took a pain pill. After that, she wiggled out of her clothes and into her new cotton nightie, grabbed two pillows and an old, fuzzy blanket, and reclined on Grandma Nancy’s old couch, propping up her head on one of the pillows and her right foot on the other one.
There, she thought and closed her eyes.
She wanted to think about Rex. But for some reason, Owen drifted into her mind. Had he actually driven all the way from Green Hills to the Vineyard because he thought she was coming into money? He’d probably already researched the island’s real estate values. Did he honestly think she’d entrust her inheritance to him?
Closing her eyes, she really, really wanted a nap. She really wanted the pain in her foot to go away instead of yelling at her for having done too much walking that day. But it had been worth it to see her mother’s wonderful paintings. And she liked Brandon’s idea for her to keep a few and donate the rest to the cultural center. Grandma Nancy might have liked that, too. As for the ones her mother painted after she left the Vineyard. . . Maddie didn’t know what to do with them. Even an amateur as she was could tell they weren’t Hannah Clieg’s best work. It was as if she’d been trying to be someone she wasn’t. And why were those on the island? Had she sold some of them at one of the artisan fairs when she and Maddie were there with Grandma?
