Slowly, Maddie drifted into sleep, her questions unanswered.
Then her phone rang. She stirred; she considered not answering it. But . . . maybe it was Rafe.
Blindly reaching to the table for her phone, she picked it up.
“Mom?”
The sound of his voice always evoked a smile.
“Hi, honey.”
“Are you okay? How’s your foot?”
“Not too bad. As long as I behave.”
He laughed. “I’ve never known you not to.” He was right, of course. Rafe had only known his mother as someone who played by the rules.
“I’m sorry you wound up with such a predictable mother.” She didn’t add that the label might change now, if she dared to look beyond her conventional life in tiresome—Yes,tiresome—Green Hills.
“Being predictable isn’t always a bad thing.”
Of course Rafe was being kind.
“Thanks,” she said. “But seriously. Will you be able to get here Tuesday?”
“I will.”
Happiness filled her. She hauled herself to an upright position, the blanket tangling around her cast.
“I’m so glad,” she said.
“What time’s your appointment?”
“One o’clock.”
“Okay. I’ll drive to Falmouth—you were right, the bus would take forever. I’ll park at the ferry lot in Falmouth; from there I can get a shuttle to the pier, wherever it is. I can make the ferry that arrives in Vineyard Haven at two o’clock. Can you pick me up if your appointment’s near there?”
Evelyn had offered to take her to the doctor. She wouldn’t be Maddie’s first choice of someone to meet-and-greet Rafe, but so be it.
“Two o’clock might be tight, depending on my appointment. But wait for me outside the terminal. I’ll text you if I’m not already there. Oh, and I have to have someone drive me,” she added, “so I won’t be alone. Okay?”
“Sure. Gotta run, work’s calling. Love you.”
“Drive carefully, honey,” Maddie said, but by then, he’d hung up. Rafe, after all, was almost as predictable as she was. So she knew that—without a doubt—the news of his heritage was going to rock his world.
Chapter 17
She thought about calling Evelyn to ask if she’d still be able to take her to the hospital Tuesday, but she didn’t want to interrupt Evelyn’s time with Brandon and Jeremy. The men would be off to Boston tomorrow; Monday would be plenty of time to confirm her offer.
Then she remembered Evelyn’s heart condition. She certainly was active and vivacious and didn’t seem prone to self-pity. Hopefully she’d stay that way for a long while.
As for Maddie, she was thankful for good health; before last week’s “incident,” she’d been in a hospital only when Rafe was born. Even her dad—now seventy-two—had only occasional lower back pain that sent him to a chiropractor a few times a year. She wondered if, like her grandmother, her mother would have lived to almost ninety, if Hannah had inherited Nancy’s long-life genetics. Maybe Maddie had.
Which reminded her it was time to get up and get back to clearing out her grandmother’s things; the fact that she was slow-moving these days wasn’t a good enough excuse to ignore what needed to be done.
Following Brandon’s suggestion about distribution of the paintings, she decided to create three piles: one for things to keep; one for things to toss out; the third one for the cultural center, if they wanted them. With a concrete goal, she got to work.
Hours later, much of the living room clutter was under control. She’d skipped dinner but was thirsty for tea. So, a little achy and a lot tired, Maddie limped into the kitchen and put on the kettle. But as she waited for the water to boil, a small shadow on the floor by the back door caught her eye; she was sure nothing had been there before. Inching closer, she grasped the door handle and stooped. Which was when she realized it was a thermos.
