Once the little crowd quieted again, Rex said, “So, Brandon, as Maddie’s attorney of record—if there still is such athing—I’m hoping you can attend the meeting with her, and look over the legal parts before she signs?”
“It will be my pleasure!” Brandon said, brushing back a shank of reddish-blond hair that now and then drooped onto his forehead.
More applause.
“Well,” Grandma bellowed, apparently shedding her misconception this was the first time she’d heard about the idea of a bookshop, “at last we’ll have something to liven up our little harbor. And, Maddie, if you run out of money, we can always sell my property across the creek!” She might have said it with sarcasm; it was hard to tell.
Maddie was speechless. Not only about the bookshop news, but also because everyone now knew that Grandma owned land in Aquinnah—the land they’d planned to give back to the tribe. Which meant that Maddie had to make a go of the shop so the tribe would have the land which once belonged to them.No pressure, Maddie thought. Which might have been Grandma’s intention when she’d announced it.
“This calls for more music!” Rafe interrupted as he moved to his laptop. “My mom’s going to be a shopkeeper on Martha’s Vineyard! Yay!”
“Santa Baby” filled the airwaves and happy chatter resumed.
Scanning the room, Maddie noticed one person who did not seem thrilled: her father. He’d backed away from the group and was standing in the doorway by the hallway, watching Francine and Jonas, Evelyn and Brandon start to dance. And Lisa, who had persuaded Grandma to dance with her. The other partygoers were clapping to the beat. Stephen watched them all, but Maddie knew the smile he wore was fake. He obviously wasn’t pleased with her impending career change. So chances were, he wouldn’t want any part of it.
“Dad?” Maddie asked after they’d all been glued to the new TV, the ball had successfully dropped in Times Square, and Rex had sent Kevin, Francine, and Jonas across the creek to his cabin for the night (no sense driving on the dark roads back to Chappy). The other guests also were gone; Rex had finished cleaning the kitchen (because he couldn’t help himself), kissed Maddie on the cheek, wished Rafe and Stephen a Happy New Year, and gone out the door, too, saying he hadn’t packed yet, and they were leaving in the morning. As for Grandma, she’d retired to her squeaky springs an hour before midnight.
Stephen had turned off the music and was sitting across from the fireplace; he’d told Rafe to use the guest room, that he wanted to sleep where he could watch the embers die. So Rafe retreated, leaving Maddie and her father alone.
“Dad?” she repeated.
“Nice party,” Stephen replied, his gaze fixed on the simmering logs. “Nice people.”
She turned from him and went to the Christmas tree, its bulbs casting their soft rainbow of colors, which, with the radiance from the fireplace, provided the only light left in the room. The next day, their holiday time would end; as was their tradition, they’d take the tree down, leaving only a lingering aroma of balsam that would last a couple of days. By then Rafe would be back on the mainland (or wherever he’d go with Owen and “the stepfamily” this year). Her father also would be gone, and Maddie would be left to figure out how to open a bookshop without his interest or his help.
She sat beside him on the sofa and looked into the embers, too.
“You don’t seem very excited about Rex’s announcement.” She saw no reason to ease into the topic.
Stephen paused, carefully choosing his words, as he always did. “I was surprised. That’s all.”
“Not in a good way?” she wanted to ask but instead waited for him to continue.
The logs crackled, the tree glimmered in silence.
“I’d hoped you’d come home,” he finally said. “I’d hoped that after the renovations were done on this place, after you had your grandmother situated again, that you’d come back to Green Hills and get on with the life you’d worked so hard for. I hoped you’d check in on your grandmother and visit her sometimes, maybe in the summer like you used to do. But …” His words trailed off, drifting up the flue like a wisp of smoke.
She shifted on the cushion. “And I’d hoped if I had a bookshop it would encourage you to spend more time here,” she replied, “that it might be something we could do together. I didn’t expect you to move here, but …” Her words then followed his, disappearing into the night as unsettling words between them often did.
After another minute, he patted her knee. “All I want, Madelyn—all I’ve ever wanted—is for you to be happy.”
She did not pull her gaze from the embers. “After Rafe graduates, he wants to live here, Dad. He wants to be part of the heritage he never knew. But I’ll come back and spend time with you. Rafe and I both will. After Grandma’s gone, well … I’m learning to take things as they come.” She didn’t mention if she thought Rex would be in her future, because she didn’t know.
Stephen’s eyes glided from the fireplace up to the mantel, to the painting of the Menemsha sunset Hannah had painted, the one with the silhouettes of young Maddie and Grandma Nancy strolling on the shoreline.
He sighed. “The only suggestion I have for you is to go to bed. You must be tired from all the work to make the party such a success. We’ll talk more about your plans another time. Meanwhile, I’ll leave tomorrow, after we take the tree down. I need to get my feet back on dry land.” Stephen’s “anothertime” often meant never. Especially when emotions were involved.
With that, Maddie gathered a comforter and a pillow for her father and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. Then she went down the hall toward her new bedroom, removed her winter-white clothes and beautiful wampum jewelry, climbed into her flannel pajamas, and did as she’d been told.
Maddie slept late. When she finally made her way into the living room, she was greeted by the aroma of fresh coffee. Rafe was standing at the tree, slowly removing one delicate ornament at a time, wrapping each in tissue and nestling it in its proper box. Grandma Nancy was in her new robe and standing near him, supervising. Through the window, Maddie saw winter-blue sky; the air looked peaceful, in post-holiday silence. Her father must have walked down to the beach, in spite of their family tradition to disassemble the tree together.
“Happy New Year!” Rafe said merrily. “Coffee’s on the stove. And fresh cranberry muffins from Orange Peel Bakery.”
“You already went out this morning?”
“Um, yup,” Rafe said.
“He took your father to the boat,” Grandma said. “He decided to leave early cuz there’s a storm brewing in western New York that he wanted to beat.”
