Yet within a few minutes of logging onto the library’s system, Caitlin discovered the digital copies of the yearbook only dated back fifteen years. So, even though it made her feel conspicuous, she approached the reference librarian’s desk and inquired, “Does this library have print copies of Hope Haven High School yearbooks?”
“We certainly do. They’re kept in an archival storage room, to protect them from heat, moisture, and light, and they’reavailable for in-house use only.” She pulled a big ring of keys from her desk and stood up. “Which year would you like to peruse?”
“I… I’m not sure,” Caitlin faltered, since she didn’t know when R. had graduated. He looked a little older than Nicole, who’d been about to enter her junior year, so she took her best guess and asked, “Could I see the copies for twenty to twenty-three years ago?”
The librarian frowned. “Yes, but only one at a time. I’ll bring you the copy from twenty years ago, and if you don’t find who you’re looking for, let me know, and I’ll bring you the one from the next year.” Then, in a whisper, she added, “You wouldn’t believe how many visitors return to the island in search of locals they had summer flings with when they were teenagers.”
Caitlin protested, “That’s not what I’m doing!” Her voice carried throughout the quiet room, causing several patrons to glance her way.
“No, of course it isn’t,” the librarian said, winking.
As the woman scurried from the room, Caitlin felt so mortified she was tempted to flee the library completely.If I had known I was going to draw so much attention to myself, I never would have asked to see the yearbooks, she thought ruefully.
Once she was seated at a desk with the book in hand, Caitlin kept her head down as she flipped it open. Dune Island’s regional high school was home to students from all five towns in Hope Haven, but because the year-round population was small, it didn’t take Caitlin long to scrutinize the seniors’ formal photos.
As she expected, beneath each picture, the student’s name was listed, along with their hobbies, club and sport participation, aspirations, and favorite quote. There were only a handful of boys whose first names began with the letterR; none of them even slightly resembled the boy in the photo with Nicole.She examined the swim team members’ faces, too, but didn’t see R. among those boys, either. Caitlin also kept an eye out for the brunette girl from the arcade, but since she’d been wearing sunglasses and was on the periphery of the frame, she would’ve been difficult to identify.
Reluctantly, she closed the cover and asked the reference librarian if she could see the yearbook from twenty-one years ago. Caitlin repeated the process, with similar results. By then, her fingers and toes had sufficiently warmed and she was getting hungry. Caitlin’s burning curiosity had faded to a dim flicker, and she decided she’d rather eat lunch than continue her wild goose chase.
I think the pub Shane told me he likes is just around the corner. I should go there for chowder, she thought.
“Any luck with that one?” the librarian asked when Caitlin handed her the yearbook.
Skirting the heart of her question, Caitlin answered, “I’m all set, thanks.”
“Okay, but if there’s anything else I can do to help, just ask. I know everyone on the island, so if you were to describe the student to me, I could tell you who he is, where he lives now, and what he does for a living.”
I’m sure you could, which is why I’d never ask you, thought Caitlin, but she just smiled. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“No problem. I’m a sucker for a good reunion romance,” she said with another wink.
Lesson learned, thought Caitlin as she hurried down the sidewalk.That’s the last time I’ll ask for help with personal research.
Caitlin wasn’t expecting Ahab’s to be so crowded, but she supposed it made sense; because it was a weekend, residentshad more time to eat lunch out than they did on weekdays. Still flabbergasted from her interaction with the nosy librarian, Caitlin had hoped to linger over a quiet meal, but she could hardly hear her own thoughts above the rowdy conversations and background thump of music.I think I’ll take my chowder to go.
“Hello,” the host greeted her. “Table for one or are you meeting your party here?”
“Neither, thanks,” she answered. “I’d just like to get a bowl of chowder to go, please.”
“No problem. You can tell the bartender, and he’ll put that order through for you,” he replied, gesturing toward a jam-packed area to the left of the entrance.
Caitlin twisted this way and that, squeezing through the customers who were milling around the bar, drinks in hand. Finally, she reached an opening near a single vacant stool. Leaning forward over the soiled dishes, she focused her gaze on the bartender until she caught his eye.
“What can I get you?” he asked.
“A bowl of chowder to go. I don’t need crackers or utensils, thanks.”
“That’ll be out in two minutes.”
After paying him, Caitlin decided to sit down. When she turned to ask the customer next to her if he knew whether the seat was still occupied, her mouth dropped open. “Shane?”
He’d been angled in the opposite direction so he could watch the game on the screen at the other end of the bar, but when he swiveled to face her, he looked as surprised as she was. “Ca-Caitlin. What are you doing here?”
“Getting chowder, same as you.” She smiled as she pointed to his empty bowl and then she perched on the stool. She’d only ever seen him wearing plaid flannel shirts over dark-coloredtees; he was so handsome in his forest green Aran sweater. Touching his sleeve, she said, “This is a nice look on you.”
The words were barely out of her mouth when she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Excuse me. That’s my seat.”
Caitlin turned to apologize to the customer, a tall, blond woman. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was still taken.” She quickly slid off the stool and stood beside Shane, speaking into his ear so she wouldn’t have to shout, “Are you planning to hang out here a while longer?”
