She also remembered hearing rumors from her local acquaintances about an arsonist who lived in the old farmhouse on the property. Caitlin doubted the accuracy of those accounts, just like she couldn’t quite believe the stories she’d heard about the eccentric old lighthouse keeper, or the mad woman who used to howl from the widow’s walk of a historic captain’s house in Benjamin’s Manor. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to matter how preposterous the tales were; once the gossip started, the landmarks became forever synonymous with scandal.
I hate to imagine what the islanders have said about The Windmill Cottages ever since Nicole drowned…Caitlin made a concerted effort to dismiss the thought and focus on listening as Shane told her the cranberry farm now included a gift shop and an education center, as well as a kitchen that offered cooking classes to the public.
“The owners, Lily and her husband, Jake, are a very generous couple, very community-minded. This isn’t the first time they’ve hosted a fundraiser on their property. They always help put on terrific events—although that’s just my opinion. I’m not a professional fundraiser, like you are.”
“The kind of fundraising I do is a little different.” Caitlin explained her role as a consultant, and she also shared that she wanted to stretch her wings a little by landing the hospital campaign.
“I hope you get it,” he said. “Did you always know you wanted to work in philanthropy?”
“No. When I was in high school, I had my heart set on taking pre-med coursework in college. I wanted to become a doctor, or maybe a medical researcher.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“I guess I sort of… lost interest,” she answered vaguely. “And during my senior year, my grades slipped quite a bit, so enrolling in a pre-med program wasn’t really an option anymore.”
“Yeah, well, that happens. When I was a high school senior, I was a total slacker. I cut classes so many times, I almost didn’t graduate,” Shane admitted, which surprised Caitlin because he seemed so disciplined, reliable, and punctual now. “For someone who thought he knew it all, I was pretty stupid—oh, look, here’s our turn.”
They pulled off the main road and slowly crept up the long driveway to the parking area, which was illuminated by an orange floodlight. The split-rail fence surrounding the lot was draped in artificial spider webs with oversized spiders, and on top of every post sat a hand-carved jack-o-lantern or a fake black cat.
Nice decorations. Not too scary for the children who were here earlier, but not too silly for the adults, either,thoughtCaitlin, feeling a pang of loneliness for her young niece and nephews. She snapped a few photos to text to them later.
“How about if we go through the maze first, and then we can head to the barn for refreshments?” Shane asked when they got out of his truck. “Kind of a work-before-pleasure strategy.”
Caitlin agreed, and they followed the signs to the hay bale maze, where they took their place in line behind a clown, a cowboy, and a gorilla. After putting money into the donation box guarded by a man costumed as a security officer, they entered the dimly lit maze and quickly discovered it was larger and much more complex than they’d expected.
The pair kept coming to dead ends, and then they’d pretend to bicker about which way to go next. Occasionally, someone would recognize Shane or he’d recognize them, and they’d give each other a friendly greeting in passing. But the aisles were narrow, and most people were so preoccupied in navigating their way through them that they didn’t stop and chat.
Just when Shane and Caitlin were so frustrated and lost that they were ready to split up and go their separate ways—“survival of the fittest,” Shane said—they stumbled onto the exit.
“Finally! You’d think that someone with antennae would have a better sense of direction,” she joked. “I was starting to worry we’d be trapped in there all winter.”
“Trapped? What kind of cat burglar doesn’t know how to scale a wall?”
Caitlin rolled her eyes in mock derision, but she was enjoying their kidding. They sauntered along the lighted path to the barn and made another donation before entering.
“This looks great,” exclaimed Caitlin. The interior was aglow with purple, orange, and white fairy lights and hanging lanterns. Topped with black tablecloths and autumn harvest centerpieces, picnic tables of various shapes and sizes were arranged to face the DJ in the far corner of the barn. The 80s-themed music wasloud but not deafening, and at least fifteen costumed revelers were already on the dance floor. Closer to the entrance, a few daring souls bobbed for apples in galvanized tubs.
Shane glanced at them and then caught Caitlin’s eye. They both simultaneously shook their heads, and kept walking toward the food and beverage tables, respectively labeled, “Treats” and “Boos.”
The refreshment table was laden with trays of candied apples, popcorn balls, chocolates, and a wide array of other tasty snacks. Marion was standing beside it, wearing a blue-and-white gingham pinafore, a white top, and blue ribbons in her hair, which was styled into two short braids. Caitlin immediately recognized her as the character Dorothy fromThe Wizard of Ozmovie, even though Marion’s feet were shod in sensible red gardening boots instead of ruby slippers.
“Hi, Marion. Fabulous costume,” she said, at the same moment Shane also greeted her.
“Hi, Shane—and Caitlin, is that really you?” Marion asked, delighted. “I’m so pleased you both came, but I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you’re supposed to be dressed as.”
After explaining their punny outfits, Shane teased, “Where’s your little dog Toto tonight? Did he run into bad weather?”
“I wanted to bring him, but I knew he’d get overly excited about seeing people in costumes. It wouldn’t be good for anyone,” Marion said.
They chatted for a few more minutes until they needed to move on to make room for a group of people dressed as a professional bowling team. After selecting their drinks—spiced cider for Shane and cranberry juice made on the premises for Caitlin—they found a vacant picnic table off to the side of the barn. As they hungrily devoured their food, they barely spoke except to make admiring remarks about the creative costumes worn by the other attendees.
They’d almost finished eating when a woman dressed as a mermaid slid onto the bench beside Shane and gave him an affectionate nudge with her shoulder.
“Hi, stranger. I never expected to see you here,” she said. “What are you supposed to be?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He wiggled his head, pointing to his antennae. “I’m a carpenter ant.”
“Wow, that’s just… wow.” She smiled at Caitlin. “Hi, I’m Joyce—Shane’s cousin.”
