Someone named Harriet had written—three months before Calvin’s disappearance:What Calvin has done to you cannot be forgiven. Do not turn to the scripture; do not listen to your heart. Recognize that sometimes, people reveal themselves in terrifying ways. He cannot come back from this. Do not give him an opening. Do not give up on yourself.
Hannah’s eyes widened. It was funny to read something like this. It reminded her of her college girlfriends, telling one another not to forgive the men who’d been cruel or cheated on them. It was funny to think that women throughout history had done the same, using similar language. But what had Calvin done?
Hannah googled “Harriet, Legacy Club,” but she found nothing online.
For the first time, a thought rattled her. Was it possible that Georgia had been responsible for Calvin’s disappearance? Was itpossible that she’d given the Legacy Club the “okay” to get rid of him—all because of whatever he’d done to her?
Before she could come to any conclusion, there was a knock on the door. Immediately, she panicked, thinking of Minnie. She’d gotten home last night and had gone out with Viggo again earlier this afternoon, telling Hannah that they were looking for jobs. But if anything had happened to her, would the cops knock on the door and tell her? Or would they call?
Shaking, Hannah got up and went to the front door. But the man waiting for her on the porch was no police officer. It was Julien, the harbor master. Hannah’s lips parted with surprise. In his right hand, he held a bottle of wine, and he wore a funny smile. She didn’t know what to think.
Then again, she’d felt a shimmer in the air between them from the very beginning. She’d been attracted to him in a way that had startled her. It still startled her.
“Julien!” She forgot all about the letters and newspaper articles strewn across the table. “What are you doing here?”
“I hope you don’t mind me stopping by,” he said. “I wanted to welcome you to the island. Here’s a gift, I guess. I hope you drink wine?” He hesitated. “I know it’s an old-fashioned thing, but I didn’t have your phone number. And everyone knows where everyone lives in Nantucket.”
Hannah smiled. Wasn’t that the kind of small-town charm she’d wanted? And he was adorably nervous.
“Of course not. Come in!” She beckoned for Julien to follow her into the kitchen. “Do you want to have a glass with me? Or are you on your way out?”
“I’m in no rush,” Julien told her.
Hannah fetched two glasses and led Julien out onto the back porch, where a splendorous sunset beamed over the water. The wine was French, and it looked nicer than anything she might have bought herself. “Do you know about wine?” she asked him.
“Not at all,” Julien said, blushing. “But the woman at the grocery store does.”
“Cheers to the woman at the grocery store.” Hannah laughed.
They clinked glasses and assessed one another. Now that she’d been ripped away from her work and launched into an entirely different dynamic, Hannah felt exposed. She remembered how easy it had been to talk to Jim at Natalie’s place yesterday, if only because she’d wanted information from Jim and nothing else. But what did she want from Julien? What did Julien want from her?
Oh, it had been so nice to be married, if only because she hadn’t had to answer these questions.
“It was funny to run into you last night,” Hannah said finally.
“It was. Yeah. I’m sorry I ran off like that,” Julien offered. “I get weird on the docks. There’s too much to think about.”
“I can’t imagine all that pressure.”
“I’m sure you can. You’re a journalist,” Julien said. “You have people’s lives in your hands.”
“Sometimes.” Hannah chuckled. “But lately, I’ve been obsessed with one thing only.”
Julien’s eyes widened. Maybe he was afraid she wanted to talk about the Legacy Club a little more. But she didn’t want to torture him.
“I’m trying to refurbish the place without knowing a thing about it,” Hannah finished.
Tension spilled out of Julien’s shoulders. He laughed. “It’s really worse for wear, isn’t it? When I found out you lived here, I assumed somebody had redone it.”
“That’s me. Redoing it in real time,” Hannah joked.
She watched as Julien’s eyes scanned the porch floorboards, the shutters, the back door. She could see him calculating what needed to be done and how much it would cost. By contrast, Kendall would have called someone and had everything fixed upin a day or two. He threw money at every problem. Hannah felt her smile dim.
“What is it?” Julien asked. And then he sputtered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about the place. It’s really nice. I mean, I always thought it had a lot of…”
“Character,” Hannah offered. “It’s the word I keep using, too.”
Julien was quiet. Seagulls squawked in the distance, and they both sipped their wine. She wanted to talk to Julien about the island’s secrets, to ask him why everyone kept everything under wraps around here. But she also didn’t want to frighten him off.
