“Yes. And to answer your question, physically, I’m okay. I’m healing fine. Mentally, I’m still trying to process everything.”
Her father hesitated. “I’ve thought about it every minute of the day. And here’s what I think. I want you home, Maddie. You’ve already met the attorney; whatever you’ll need to do next can surely be done by email or phone. Please,” he said. “I want you to be safe.”
She frowned. Why would he think she wasn’t safe? “But, Dad . . .”
“I think that getting back to your friends, to your work, to your routine, will be better for you, Maddie. You don’t know the people there. They might mean well, and it’s a lovely place, but you belong in Green Hills. It’s your home. And I don’t want anything else to happen to you. Or to Rafe.”
So he knew that Rafe was there. “Dad,” she said. “What’s going on? What else are you keeping from me?”
He didn’t answer right away. She pictured his blue eyes, the color of hers, the only visible link they had to each other. And yet, Maddie knew that her scholarly instincts, her need for circumspection about so many things, and her sensitive, yet pragmatic heart, came from him. Some people might say those common traits were from having been cooped up too long in a small, academic town. But Maddie now knew that as much as she had Stephen Clarke’s British/Scottish bloodline, she was also Wampanoag.
On the other end of the line, she heard a loud whooshing sound.
“Now it sounds like you’re in a wind tunnel,” she said loudly.
“This is not a conversation for a phone call,” he replied. “We’ll talk about it later when you’re home.”
“Seriously?” she said. “Are you trying to scare me into leaving the island?”
“No, Madelyn. It’s just that there are things about your grandmother you simply do not know.” He said he hoped to see her soon. And then he hung up.
Chapter 28
“No, Mom,” Rafe said as he was polishing off a dish of blueberries that Rex had picked and topped with fresh cream he’d just whipped. “If you want to go back to Green Hills, I can’t stop you. But I want to stay here.”
Maddie blinked once, twice, three times. “But, Rafe . . .”
He shook his head. “I’ve learned more about myself in the past few days than I’ve known my whole life. And I’m not talking about my heritage; I’m talking about . . . me.”
She thought he must be kidding. “But you’ve survived living in Green Hills for twenty-one years.”
“Almost twenty-two,” he corrected her. “And you don’t really know if or how well that’s worked for me. I didn’t even know. But let’s face it, I’ve been on the other side of the planet compared to here. You and Grandpa have sheltered me, maybe too much. My father has made sure I look the part that he and his wife want me to look—prep-schooled, Ivy League business major, heir apparent to his financial world. I’ve lived in his huge house on Wednesday nights and alternate weekends. I never told you how much I hate that place. I feel sorry for my half sisters, who won’t grow up knowing anything else. I love living with you and Grandpa. But I’m no longer a kid, and this is where I want to be.”
She was stunned. Her son had never challenged her before. More important, she had no idea how to rebut his feelings. Or if she should try.
Rex briskly wiped his hands on a dish towel and said, “I’ll go walk on the beach before the sun sets and leave you two to talk.” Then he departed, leaving Maddie still at a loss for words.
“But, honey,” was all she could think of to say. “We don’t know the extent of damage to the cottage yet. You won’t have anywhere to live. It wouldn’t be right to take advantage of Rex’s generosity—”
“Joe said I could bunk in with him,” Rafe interrupted. “He’s family, too, you know.”
Stumped. Stymied. Flabbergasted. She wished her father were there. He had such a level head. After all, he was the reason she’d gone back to college. He was the reason she was in line for a secure future. Then she wondered if, given half a chance, she, too, would have chosen the island.
Then she recalled his words: “There are things about your grandmother you simply do not know.”
She shook her head. It was getting hard to think; maybe that was thanks to her concussion. “We have no idea what it’s like to live here all the time. Right now it’s summer. There’s kayaking and concerts and art shows and great food. There’s cheering on the beach every night at sunset. Fun is all around us. But I doubt if that’s what it’s like in winter, when most people are gone and places are closed.” She had no idea if that was true.
“I don’t care about that, Mom. And sure, the kayaking’s great. But I don’t need the rest. I’ve had my fill of fun in Green Hills. And in Amherst, too.” He took a final bite of the few blueberries left in his bowl.
Her foot started to throb again. She wanted a pain pill.
She sighed. “What about school? You’re so close to finishing.”
“Maybe they’ll let me finish remotely. They did everything online when all the students were stuck in the dorms when Covid started.” He seemed relaxed, as if he’d just announced that he liked strawberry ice cream better than chocolate.
She tried to come up with a decent argument. But she could tell that he’d already thought this through.
“And if I was here,” he added, his voice not at all combative, “I could oversee rebuilding the cottage. Your grandmother left you the place, Mom. Wouldn’t it be nice for us to keep it? I could find some kind of job that would pay the taxes and utilities. And whatever else the place might need. I hope you’ll at least think about it. Because my mind’s made up.” He set down his spoon and turned his chair to face her, waiting for an answer.
