Another narrow-shouldered shrug. “Dunno. Something dark, usually. Something bad. Maybe I’m finally going to keel over for good.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Maddie said. She wondered if Grandma’s premonition could have been about the bookshop, and if Maddie should start to take the family psychic tendencies more seriously.
“Okay, I probably won’t keel. The who-zies usually turn out to be nothing, anyway. ‘Much ado about nothing,’ Hannah used to say. Then she’d make tea and we’d forget about it.” She lifted her mug from the coffee table and raised it, as if toasting her long-deceased daughter.
“Not to change the subject,” Maddie said, which was exactly what she intended, “but do you think I’m being foolish to open a bookshop?”
“No more foolish than I was to start weaving baskets for aliving. Course, we didn’t need as much back then. Before Butchie died, we fished for food or grew our own; we chopped wood to heat this place, and packed seaweed around the foundation to keep the wind and the dampness out. I made most of our clothes. But there was gas to put in Orson, and an electric bill to pay, cuz in Menemsha, we had it thirty or more years before they had it in Aquinnah, who didn’t get theirs until right before you were born.”
Maddie wasn’t sure—again—if she should correct Grandma, if she should tell her she wasn’t her daughter but her granddaughter. There was little harm in the mistake, but maybe she should coerce Grandma to see a doctor, too.
“You mean it wasn’t long before Hannah was born,” she said, testing her.
Grandma squinted. “Well, yes.”
Then Maddie’s phone rang again; her neck tightened. She quickly picked it up, and saw that it was Rex.
Giving Grandma a quick wave, she headed to her bedroom, relieved to hear his voice.
“Hi,” she said. “Are you having fun?”
“Hi yourself. Yup, it’s great. Today we went to Malibu and watched them film a movie Annie wrote. It was fun. Her place is in the Hills—it’s really nice, but cooler than we expected. When we got back from Malibu, Kevin went in the pool and nearly froze to death. Early tomorrow he and I are renting motorcycles and going on an adventure.”
“What about Francine and Jonas?”
“They’re taking the kids to Disney’s Hollywood Studios.”
She laughed. “I’d rather be with them than on a motorcycle.”
“Nah, you’d love it here.”
“How’s Annie?”
“Good! But I think she misses the Vineyard. She says the traffic here makes summer in Edgartown feel deserted.”
Again, Maddie wondered if Annie would be moving back.
“So, how’re you?” Rex asked. “Ready for the big meeting tomorrow?”
They talked about the bookshop; Maddie gave him a rundown of the questions she planned to ask.
“You’ll be fine,” he said. “Just sign the lease and worry about the rest later.”
He had faith in her. She still didn’t know how that had happened. Or why, if there was a why.
“Yes, sir,” she said with a small laugh. “By the time you return I’ll be in debt up to my eyeballs.”
“Great! You’ll be like the rest of us! We’ll celebrate. I’ll take you to the diner for breakfast.”
“Breakfast? But I don’t live in Edgartown. How early will I have to wake up to make it there for breakfast?”
“Good point. Maybe you should come to my place the night before so we’ll be on time.”
She liked his suggestion.
Later, after they’d hung up, Maddie felt confident about the town hall meeting and pretty sure it was why he’d called: He’d wanted her to know he was supportive. Which made her feel confident about him and aboutthem. Maybe it really was the start of a relationship. She wondered when, or how, she’d know for sure.
“Argh!” she moaned, wondering if anyone had created dos and don’ts for becoming a couple after forty, and if she should start googling that.
