“She was hit by a car,” Rafe said, as if reminding himself.
Maddie nodded and kept her attention on him. She had no idea what Owen was doing.
Next, she talked about the letter from her grandmother’s attorney, leaving out that her father had sent the first one back. She said that, in her will, her grandmother left her what few things she had: “Boxes of memories and this cottage.” She would save the information about the other properties until after Owen left. She glanced around the room. “As you can see, there’s not much to the place. The last time I was here was the summer I was five. Mother died shortly after that.”
Suddenly, a flashback of a policeman at the door leaped into Maddie’s mind. For some bizarre reason, the door wasn’t back home in Green Hills but right there at the cottage. And the blue lights of his cruiser were blinking through squatty, scrub oaks and not through the tall pine trees in Green Hills.
She shook her head, trying to push away the image that made no sense, as her mother had been killed on a dark road back home in the Berkshires, not on the Vineyard.
“My grandmother was a basket maker whose work had built a decent following,” she continued, struggling to regain her demeanor. “Her husband was a fisherman who died at sea when my mother was a girl. I don’t know much about him, but I found a few pictures that I set aside for us, so we’ll have something from that side of our family.”
A loud yawn came from the chair by the window. Maddie ignored it.
“Grandma Nancy—that’s what I called her—wrote that she wanted to be cremated. She asked if I’d scatter her ashes on the beach at sunset. She can’t be cremated until her death certificate arrives, so it’s good that I’m still here, though I hadn’t planned to be. Anyway, it’s also why I wanted you to come. So you can learn a few things about your roots.”
She smiled at her son. “That’s about it. Any questions?”
“Why didn’t you know she was still alive?”
She shook her head again. “I’ll never know. Maybe she was traumatized when my mother died, and it was too painful for her to be with me.” There was no reason not to say that.
“Was she sick? Your grandmother?”
“She was eighty-nine, and as far as I know, she was still in good health, which I was happy to hear. So, no, she wasn’t sick. She fell. The front door has three granite slabs that are steps. She tripped over one, landed, and hit her head on the corner of another one. One of the neighbors found her. But she already was gone.” Her heart felt as if someone had squeezed it. The image of the policeman flashed again. She gripped the edges of the table for support.
“No surprise she fell,” Owen barked. “Those so-called steps were put there by an amateur. Totally unsafe.”
Maddie summoned all her strength not to erupt. She resumed focusing on Rafe. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when I first found out. And I’m sorry you never got to meet her.” Then she turned to Owen. “Would you please get me a tissue? They’re in the bathroom. Down the hall.”
With a look that now was smug as well as bored, Owen pushed himself up from the chair and meandered from the room. She stopped herself from asking why he’d insisted on being there when it was obvious he was not really interested.
Rafe stood up, went to her, and put his arm around her. “I’m so sorry, Mom. And I’m really sorry you didn’t have her all the years you could have.”
Maddie nodded her thanks. “She would have adored you.” She didn’t know if that were true, but she wanted to give Rafe some happy thoughts about Grandma Nancy. There was no harm in that.
Owen returned with the tissue box and handed it to Maddie. Then he spoke to Rafe.
“By the looks of this shack, son, I think we can agree it’s a good thing I’ve worked hard for you to have everything you wanted while you were growing up.”
Maddie had to look away. She wondered if Owen would have become whatever he thought he was if they’d stayed together, if he hadn’t gone on to marry the material girl of one of the smallest towns in the state.
“Because I respect your mother’s wishes, I won’t ask her questions,” he continued prattling. “But please find out what she intends to do with this place. It’s worth a small fortune not because it’s nice”—he chuckled again, surveying the room—“but because of the location. It’s not waterfront, but it does have a small water view. And second best is still pretty good here in the land of dough-re-mi.”
Rafe stared at his father as if he didn’t know him. Then he looked back at Maddie.
“Mom? Isn’t it too early to decide what to do? Like, wouldn’t it be more respectful to at least wait until after you scatter her ashes?”
Maddie smiled. “Yes, honey, it is. And it’s what I intend to do.”
He nodded and said, “Good.”
Owen folded his arms across his chest.
“But for now,” she said, “I’m exhausted. And my foot is throbbing again. How about if the two of you walk down to the beach? Have some alone time, while I take a nap? And, Owen, when I wake up, please be gone. Rafe can use my car to drive you to the boat. When he wants to leave the island, he can take my car then, too, with or without me. I can make my own way home when I am ready.” There was no need to add that before going back to Green Hills, she’d have to reconcile with her father.
She turned to Rafe again. “Honey, my car keys are in my purse. The key to the cottage is on the same ring. Please lock the front door on your way out.”
It wasn’t until they’d left and Maddie had changed into her nightgown and stretched out on her grandmother’s bed that she had a disturbing thought. When Owen had come to the cottage the first time, and again when Rex had brought them there, he’d entered through the back door. How had he deduced that the granite slabs at the front door were unsafe?
