“Revenge? Not at all. I think he was genuinely concerned for her safety. Just like when he reported boats for speeding or bonfire parties on the beach, it was because he didn’t want someone getting hurt. Most people never understood that about him.” Ivy grew silent for a moment before murmuring, “Gulls in his lantern room.”
Zoey didn’t understand the non sequitur and her heart thrummed with alarm. Was her aunt speaking gibberish? “What did you say?”
“Do you know the expression, ‘you have bats in your belfry’?” Ivy asked and when Zoey nodded, she said, “That’s what they used to say about Mr. Witherell. Except they’d say he had ‘gulls in his lantern room’ from living alone in the lighthouse for so long. It wasn’t clever. It was cruel. I didn’t appreciate him making Sylvia so upset, but I think certain people haven’t shown him enough respect.”
Yeah, including Mark.“Well,youweren’t disrespectful to him, Aunt Ivy. I’ve seen you and Aunt Sylvia pass him in the streets and you’ve always been cordial. He has, too. And he came to Aunt Sylvia’s funeral. That must mean he isn’t holding anything against you.”And it might mean more than that,Zoey realized.
“He came to Marcus and Denny’s funerals, too. He said he was very sorry. I didn’t know if he meant because they’d died or if he was apologizing for what he said that day he came to the house. Either way, I think that’s when we tacitly agreed to let bygones be bygones. We never chatted with each other the way we did the summer after my mother died, but at least things were less strained between us.”
“Then maybe he’d be open to a closer friendship again now.” Zoey knew it was a reach but she added, “He loves to walk and you used to, too. I know sometimes your angina flares up, but maybe if Dr. Laurent says it’s okay and you built your endurance, little by little…?”
Ivy waved a finger at her. “Now look who’s matchmaking! Next thing I know you’ll be pairing us up for cribbage.”
That wasn’t what Zoey had in mind but she laughed, pleased her aunt’s mood seemed lighter. Then Ivy said she was getting tired and Zoey walked her up the stairs. On the first landing, her heart hurt so acutely Zoey told her to sit on the step while she ran and got her a nitroglycerin pill. Ivy placed it beneath her tongue, holding her hand to her chest and rocking her upper torso. If Zoey hadn’t seen this happen before, she would have called 9-1-1 but Ivy’s cardiologist said she could take up to three nitro pills in a row, at five-minute intervals. She had never needed more than one, but tonight she had to take two before the pain subsided and she felt comfortable enough to climb the rest of the steps.Her angina is always worse if she exerts herself after being upset,Zoey acknowledged.I wonder if that will pass in time or if I should suggest that she might benefit from a stair lift, especially once I leave…
She helped Ivy with her nightly regimen and then sat beside her as she drifted in and out of sleep. Zoey considered canceling her interview the next day. But she’d scheduled it so early in the morning that she wouldn’t have been able to give the staff advance notice that she wasn’t coming. Also, she’d already picked up the rental car and she was close to maxing out her last credit card so she didn’t want to add another charge if she could avoid it. Besides, her aunt seemed fine now, as she always did after the medication kicked in.
When Ivy’s breathing grew heavy and rhythmic, Zoey sneaked out of the room. Noticing there was no light shining from beneath Gabi’s door even though it was barely nine-thirty, she decided she might as well go to bed, too, since she had to catch the early morning ferry.
But instead of sleeping, Zoey ruminated over what Ivy had disclosed about Sylvia and Mr. Witherell. While she tried to rein in her imagination, there were just enough similarities between her aunt’s and her niece’s stories to make it seem almost plausible that Mr. Witherell, not Marcus Sr., had fathered Marcus Jr. Whether that was true or not, one thing was for certain: Ivy had no clue about it.
Zoey had already concluded that Mark must have heard the same rumors Gabi heard when he attended school on Dune Island. But what she wondered now was if Ivy had toldhimthe same story she’d just told Zoey about Mr. Witherell leaving letters for Sylvia at the house?
“Hey!” she said aloud and snapped her fingers before hushing herself.What ifthat’swhat he was looking for in the attic—Mr. Witherell’s letters to Aunt Sylvia?Zoey had straightened the boxes in her aunt’s trunk the day she’d injured herself, but maybe she should take a more thorough look at their contents?
She quickly dismissed the impulse. If the letters affected Sylvia as deeply as Ivy said they did, she wouldn’t have saved them. And if shehadkept them, Mark surely had discovered and destroyed them already. But even if there was a million-in-one chance that Zoeydidfind them and they indicated Sylviawaspregnant with Mr. Witherell’s son, what then? Her aunt had already told her how upset she’d gotten when Mr. Witherell suggested Sylvia wasn’t as meek as she acted. As Zoey had told Gabi, she had to consider how hurt her aunt would feel to find out he’d been right. Especially because she’d already shared the better part of her life—and her wealth—with her sister-in-law, as well as with Marcus Jr. and with Mark.
If the new stove has taught me anything, it’s to leave well enough alone.And that’s what Zoey was going to have to do about the issue of Marcus Jr.’s paternity, too—even if the curiosity was killing her.
Chapter Eight
Usually Zoey experienced a rush of excitement as she drove into the city, but today she’d felt as if the traffic and high-rises were closing in on her. Nick’s phrase, “a cell of an office” came to mind more than once during her tour of the library, although she did like the staff and could imagine herself being happy working with them. And while she regretted not being able to meet up with her friend Lauren after work, Zoey was equally glad that for her aunt’s sake, she had to leave the city immediately after her interview. Or almost immediately; she stopped to get the sausages she’d promised her aunt first.
When she pulled into the driveway and saw Nick’s truck, she practically skipped to the back door, expecting to find him and Ivy drinking coffee in the kitchen. She hoped he had convinced her to try out the oven. They weren’t there but there was noise—almost like voices, but not exactly—coming from the living room. Was Ivy weeping?IknewI shouldn’t have left her alone today,Zoey thought,hurrying to greet them.
“Hi, Nick. Hi, Aunt Ivy.”
As soon her aunt saw her, she gasped. “Oh, Zoey, you’re safe! I’ve been so worried.” Her nose and eyes were red-rimmed and there was a box of tissues on her lap. She pulled one out and wiped her cheeks, and then added it to the pile on the coffee table.
“Yes, I’m safe and sound.” Zoey cocked her head, confused. “Why? Did you hear about an accident on the radio or TV?”
Nick quickly explained, “Your aunt said you’ve been gone for hours and she didn’t know where you went. We tried your cell, but we couldn’t reach you and we couldn’t get a hold of Gabi to ask her, either. I even checked with the hospital to see if you returned for a follow-up appointment.”
“I-I went to my interview in Providence. Remember, Aunt Ivy?” It was a stupid question, something Mark would have asked. If Ivy had remembered she wouldn’t have been crying and frantically trying to locate her. “I’m sorry you were worried. I turned off my phone so it wouldn’t ring while I was meeting with the director. I must have forgotten to turn it on again. I feel terrible.”
“No, no. I should have remembered,” Ivy said, pulling another tissue from the box. “But when I couldn’t get you, I thought you went swimming alone again and that you might have dived in and bumped your head on a rock.”
There weren’t any sizeable rocks in the bay on Rose Beach and Zoey was still avoiding the water because of the sore on her leg, but she didn’t point that out. She knew her aunt had an irrational but understandable fear of her loved ones drowning ever since the boating accident. She gave her a hug, repeating, “I’m sorry I worried you, Aunt Ivy. Next time, I’ll leave you a note or put a reminder on the calendar.”
Her aunt inhaled and straightened her shoulders, gathering her composure. “Now that you’re here, I’ll make lunch. How does lemon pepper chicken sound? It will be my first time using the oven, but in the old one it didn’t take more than thirty minutes.”
“I’d love to have chicken for lunch, but Nick probably has to get back to work now, don’t you?”
“Yeah. As tempting as it is to stay, I need to pick up an order at the lumber yard.”
When Zoey noticed how crestfallen Ivy appeared, she seized the opportunity to suggest her aunt could make a lasagna and Nick and Aidan could come for supper instead.
“That sounds great, but I’m working late every day this week.”
