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“Thanks! I appreciate that. It’s a little nerve-racking riding my bike in the dark.”
“Where are you going?”
“Well, as you know, choices are limited.”
The island’s only village amounted to several establishments clustered near the ferry dock: a general store; a boat-rental place that also had two gas pumps and a live-bait tank; a real estate office that was open only on weekends, when the sea island drew visitors from the mainland; and a café and bar called Mickey’s.
After the café’s dinner hours, the bar stayed open and was the only nod toward a nightlife on the island.
“Mickey’s?” Amelia asked. Stef nodded. “Meeting someone?”
Stef grinned and said with cheek, “Maybe.”
“Same guy?”
“Maybe.”
Amelia laughed. “Does he have a name?”
“Dirk.”
“What does he do?”
“He works on boats. I don’t know the specifics.”
“Is he a permanent resident? Maybe I know his family.”
Stef shook her head. “This is his first summer here.”
“When do I get to meet him?”
“We’ll see how things go.” Changing the subject, she asked, “Will you be all right here alone?”
“Of course. I’ve been staying here alone since I was eighteen and finally talked my daddy into allowing it.”
“Yeah, but you’ve had a rough week.”
“I’m fine. I may treat myself to a long bath. This will definitely help relax me.” She raised the glass of wine. “Thank you.”
“I figured you could use it.” Stef picked up her small purse and lifted Amelia’s key ring off the hook as she passed through the back door.
Amelia followed to lock it behind her. Noticing the bright porch light overhead, she said, “Thanks for changing the bulb.”
Stef paused on her way to the car. She looked at Amelia, then at the porch light, then back to Amelia. “I didn’t. The bulb just must have been loose. I guess it came back on by itself.”
After she drove away, Amelia remained standing on the threshold, one hand on the door jamb, the other on her chest where her heart had begun beating hard and fast. The lightbulb hadn’t been loose. It hadn’t come back on by itself. Because when Amelia noticed that it had burned out, she had removed it from the fixture.
* * *
As if the lightbulb and beach-ball puzzles weren’t enough to fray her nerves, she was upset over her missing wristwatch. In the utility room, she upended her beach bag and went through the contents item by item. She checked the windowsill above the kitchen sink where she sometimes placed it before doing the dishes. She even put her hand down the garbage disposal.
Upstairs, she thoroughly searched her bathroom, bedroom, and dirty-clothes hamper. The hamper yielded a piece of Lego, but nothing else that didn’t belong there.
Sitting on the side of her bed, she reconstructed her morning. She distinctly remembered pulling on her swimsuit, slipping the caftan over her head, then fastening her watch onto her wrist as she slid her feet into a pair of flip-flops.
It had to have come off somewhere on the beach.
She checked on the boys, who were sleeping soundly in their twin beds, then went back downstairs, got a flashlight, and switched it on as she descended the front steps.
