blowing a loose curl from her eyes. “What room are you in, Mrs. Cricket? We’ll make sure you get plenty of towels. Maybe even an extra bar of soap if you play your cards right.”
“I think we can put her in room fourteen. I’ve got to check with Gavin,” I said.
“You should visit Liz in Ireland, Cricket,” Mom said. “That would be fun.”
“That’s impossible, actually, because I’m going to be living on Nantucket full-time.” Liz beamed.
“What about college?” I asked.
“Shane and I decided we’re happy here and want to stay. Why mess with a good thing? If we can avoid becoming raging alcoholics, I think we have a very nice life ahead of us.”
“Cool,” I said. Not going to college seemed crazy to me, but Liz just did whatever she wanted.
“The rooms aren’t cleaning themselves, Liz.” Bernadette glared as she passed us on the steps.
“Thank you for covering for me, Bernadette.”
“Yup,” she said, without looking back.
Liz leaned in and whispered, “And how could I part with such island charmers as Bernadette?” She picked up the towels and headed up the stairs. I showed Mom my room with the slanted ceiling and the rose wallpaper, and the kitchen and the backyard. I knocked on the annex door, which was halfway open. George, as usual, was inside typing away.
“George, this is my mother, Kate Campbell.”
“Nice to meet you,” George said, rising to shake her hand. “Your daughter is just terrific. She might have a future in journalism.”
“Thanks,” I said. Oh, George. It was good to see him. When I’m much, much, much older, I’d like to marry someone like him. I was glad I’d come back.
“Cricket told me about your book,” Mom said. “I think I might have a story that interests you.” So she’d decided to talk to him!
“Great,” George said. He smiled at me, mystified.
“But I’d like to remain anonymous,” Mom said.
“Absolutely.” He clapped once. “I’m intrigued.” They agreed to meet the next morning at the Even Keel.
We were walking back inside to find Gavin when I spotted him in the rosebushes with a pair of clippers.
“Hi, Gavin, I’m back.”
“Hi, Cricket.” Gavin turned around. He paused. He smiled at Mom. He put down his clippers and walked toward us, wiping sweat from his brow.
“This is my mom, Kate. What room should I put her in?” I asked. “Fourteen is free, right?”
“Yes, but the ventilation isn’t that great in there. How about the Admiral’s Suite?”
“She doesn’t need a Jacuzzi and a canopy bed,” I said.
“Actually,” Mom said, shooting me a look, “I could stand a little pampering.”
“It’s like, four hundred dollars a night,” I said.
“I can get you a discount,” Gavin said, waving me away. “I kind of run this place.” He smiled and wiped off his face with the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Kate, I’m just about done here. Would I be able to tempt you with a fresh piece of blueberry pie and a glass of iced tea?”
“Sounds yum,” Mom said with a sly smile. Pampering? Yum? Yuck! She was flirting. With Gavin. I almost preferred her in her bathrobe with her mysteries. Almost.
Forty-five
I SHOOK as I walked up to the door at 4 Darling Street. I took a deep breath and knocked. After the longest thirty seconds of my life, Jules appeared at the door. She must’ve checked out a window or something, because she didn’t look shocked to see me.
“What do you want?” she asked, a hand on her hip. “Or, Oh, I’m sorry, are you looking for Zack?”
“No, I want to talk to you.” I handed her the bouquet of flowers that I’d picked from the backyard at the inn, but she didn’t take them. “Please.”
Jules sighed, stepped outside, and plunked down on one of the little benches. I sat opposite her and put the flowers next to her on the bench.
She crossed her arms and looked at me like she didn’t know me, like our history had been wiped from her memory. I wanted to remind her of how I’d practically lived at her house for the past year, or how I’d taught her to drive a stick in the Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot. Or how we’d danced in her old gymnastics leotards for hours to the same Rihanna song on REPEAT, laughing until we almost wet our pants. I wanted to find the notebook with all the notes we’d ever passed, tear the pages out, and cover her with them like a quilt. I wanted to play her the three-and-a-half-minute voice mail she left