He picked up the tool bag and headed for the door. He paused with his hand on the knob.
“Who’s next?”
“What?”
“On your list.”
She looked at the laptop. At the folder still open. At the names she hadn’t crossed off yet.
“Cassidy, probably. Then Emily.”
He nodded once, slowly.
“And then?”
She didn’t answer. She watched the back of his head, the line of his shoulders, and the door frame he was almost through. It would make a great shot. Instead all she said was, “I’ll think about who’s next.”
He didn’t turn around. He stepped through the door and pulled it shut behind him.
Melissa sat at the kitchen table with the laptop open and the afternoon sun falling across the top of Bryan’s dough on the screen. She reached out and clicked the arrow key once, and Jan’s braid filled the frame. She clicked again, and Sally was looking out the store window. She clicked until she landed on the frame of Jan laughing at a customer’s joke with her head thrown back and her whole face unguarded.
She dragged it into the Portraits folder. Then added one of Sally and one of Bryan.
Chapter 13
The courtyard was full of people. Bryan had brought a tray of blackened shrimp from the Sandpiper, and Emily had made her lopsided cornbread that everyone pretended was intentional. Melissa carried a bowl of coleslaw she’d picked up from Bayview General’s small food aisle because Sally had insisted she not come empty-handed, and then insisted even harder that she not try to make anything herself.
“Sally said that?” Cassidy laughed from her chair near the fire pit. “She told me the same thing last month.”
“She told everyone the same thing.” Bryan set the tray on the long table Clint had built from salvaged dock planks. “Sally believes in playing to strengths. She probably thinks—how do I put this politely—that cooking is not exactly a strength for either of you.” He chuckled.
“Pretty judgy from the man who runs a restaurant.” Cassidy rolled her eyes.
“Sally’s not wrong.” Melissa set the bowl down and pulled a chair into the circle instead of drifting to the edge of the courtyard the way she usually did. The chair scraped against the stone path, and she sat.
That was it. She just sat.
The Friday gatherings had been happening since before Melissa moved into Captain’s Watch. Winnie started them years ago.
Emily and Grant took the bench near the gazebo, Grant’s arm stretched along the backrest behind Emily’s shoulders. Cassidy sat with her legs crossed and a glass of white wine she’d brought from Heron Cottage, already mid-argument with Bryan about festival signage.
Winnie presided by circling through the crowd, welcoming, and smiling. Insisting people take more food.
Melissa had attended dozens of these evenings. She knew the rhythms. Bryan would tell a fishing story that Cassidy would fact-check until he got flustered. Emily would ask quiet questions that made people say more than they intended. Winnie would listen to everything and steer nothing, unless steering was needed.
And, until tonight, Melissa would hover. Camera in hand or camera in bag, it didn’t matter. She’d position herself at the periphery, close enough to hear, far enough to leave without anyone noticing.
Tonight the camera was in the cottage. She’d left it on the kitchen counter next to her keys, a deliberate act that had taken her three trips back inside to confirm. The last time she’d walked back in, she’d actually put her hand on the strap before pulling it away. But she’d come out empty-handed.
“Melissa.” Emily leaned forward from the bench. “How are you? I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.”
“I’ve been shooting.” The words came out before she could change them into something vaguer. “Around town. For the website project Cassidy set up.”
“She’s being modest.” Cassidy pointed her wine glass in Melissa’s direction. “She’s building an entire photo library for the town site. Main Street, the waterfront, the shops. And she started a portrait series that’s excellent.”
Melissa felt the familiar tug to deflect. It’s nothing. Just testing some ideas. Still figuring it out. The phrases lined up in her head, comfortable and ready.
She let them pass.
