She supposed it possible that whoever wrote the first one hadn’t known about the bookshop idea but did now … and was using it to ramp up their agenda, whatever that might be. That prospect, however, seemed weak. The “investor” Rex might have spoken to would know now, too. And the town fathers and mothers would, and anyone else at the town hall who saw the forms, or possibly heard gossip. And there was the unknown competitor who wanted to open an art gallery … and all of Maddie’s new friends who’d been at her party New Year’s Eve.
But no matter what, the first note had arrived before she’d made her bookshop intention public—so only Grandma, Rex, and Kevin had known.
So the bigger question was:Why would anyone want me to leave?
For now, Maddie only knew she needed to talk to someone she trusted, someone who knew up-island, its people and its inner workings, which excluded the Chappy folks—Francine, Jonas, and Kevin. She didn’t want to upset Joe or worry Grandma, but she could call Brandon. Or wait another couple of days when she’d see him at the meeting. Aside from them, Rex was the only one she could trust.
Had he already left? She didn’t know, hadn’t asked, if they were flying from the island to New York then to L.A., or ifthey were taking the boat then the bus to Logan Airport up in Boston.
She stood on the front steps, pondering the note, when Rafe opened the door.
“Mom? Any reason you’re just standing here?”
“Not really,” she said, stuffing the note into her pocket, wishing her brain would stop racing. She glanced down to the ground. “Except I need to ask Kevin to replace these granite slabs. They’re … dangerous.”
“I heard that!” Grandma called from the living room. “Those steps were put there by your great-grandfather, Madelyn. We will not replace them.”
Rafe shrugged. “She’s the boss.”
Maddie nodded and went inside.
At lunchtime, Joe stopped by to haul the tree off to the goats at an island farm. But first, they shared party leftovers, and he stuck around a while, asking Maddie lots of questions about the bookshop that he, too, was excited about. She didn’t need to wonder if he had sent the notes—he was far too kind for malice.
The little group—including Grandma, who’d done a one-eighty about the bookshop—then tossed around a number of ideas for the shop, some good, some not, but Maddie applauded them all. There would be time to cull them later; right now, the banter was fun and better than sharing what she’d found under the rock. Especially since in the morning Rafe would leave, and she didn’t want him worrying that something bad might happen to her after he was gone.
Finally, the conversation was exhausted.
“I promise to keep everyone up-to-date,” Maddie said. “Meanwhile, let me at least get the paperwork signed!”
Then Rafe coaxed Grandma into telling stories about the “olden days” on the Vineyard, which Grandma Nancy liked to share, though she embellished them a little more each time.
By five o’clock, Grandma said Joe had to leave because he was cutting into her nap time and he needed to get to the goat farm. Rafe said good-bye, told Joe that though he’d love to come back during spring break, that’s when the rowing team had training camp; their first competitive spring regatta would be the week after that.
Joe grinned and said, “Spring is when things bloom again, and when we clean up our tribal land and ponds for the new season, which helps ensure a healthy environment for all our growing things. As much as I wish you could be here, you have many springs ahead.”
The men hugged, Joe left, and Grandma went to bed. Rafe asked his mom if there was somewhere the two of them could go for a drink and a few munchies.
Tired as she was, Maddie never passed up an invitation for some alone time with her son.
They drove to Vineyard Haven before they found a place that was open. An abundance of empty parking spaces suggested most of the New Year’s revelers had chosen to stay home and rest.
All the better, Maddie thought.
They parked on Main Street and ducked into the restaurant; they were seated at a long, comfortable bar. Maddie ordered a glass of white wine, and Rafe got a beer. He wasted no time broaching the bookshop topic again.
“It’s a great idea, Mom,” he said after taking his first sip and wiping a trace of foam from his upper lip. “And a cool surprise. But what was up with Grandpa? Like, doesn’t he agree?”
Maddie sighed. She’d always tried to shield Rafe from the few spats she and her father had—especially those over Stephen’s retirement addiction to television when she’d suggested that he find a more challenging hobby, not bingo or jigsaw puzzles, but maybe pre-Columbian art or climate change. Somethingthat would encourage him to travel, meet other aficionados with brains as sharp as his, former academics who kept engaged with the world. It might have worked if Stephen had started when he’d still been teaching, before he’d holed up in the Victorian, nice as it was.
He’d countered by saying she was being judgmental. Which she knew she probably was.
Now, however, as she sipped her wine, she remembered that her son—sitting on a barstool next to her, legally drinking beer—was an adult now. And whatever “was up” with Stephen was definitely due to her.
She set down her glass. “It’s my fault, Rafe. I was excited about the prospect of a bookshop. Part of the reason was I hoped it would also give Grandpa something to do that he’d enjoy, something where he could use his financial skills and manage that side of things. Most of all, because it looks like both you and I will be here a while, I hoped it would keep us together as a family.”
“Makes sense.”
“It did to me. But I should have asked his opinion before I went ahead with the plans. I meant to, but the Select Board accepted the proposal sooner than expected. And I sure didn’t think I’d hear the news the same time everyone else did. But Rex was thrilled for me. Understandably, though, it shocked your grandfather—which was my fault, and mine alone.”
