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Clara’s pen scratched over the paper. “Who do I talk to about resuming the ferry service, do you think?” Her eyes sought out Kelli, and the woman cleared her throat.
“I did text Shad,” she said. “He said you should go talk to him. He’s not over the ferry system, but he knows who is.”
Alice raised her hand. “I know who is. The ferry service isn’t run by the city or the township. It’s a private company.” She shifted in her seat.
“Yeah,” Robin said with a grin. “One of Alice’s ex-boyfriends—from high school and what? Last year?”
“No,” Alice bit out. “Not last year.”
Robin grinned like she’d won a million dollars in the lottery, and Tessa liked the banter between these women. She found herself smiling too, and appreciated the way Alice shot daggers at Robin and then cheered right back up.
“His name is Will Bridge,” Alice said. “I have his number somewhere.” She looked at her phone, but she didn’t pick it up. Tessa didn’t want to imagine the riot that might have started if she had.
“Great,” Clara said. “I’d love to get that from you.” She looked down the table to Kelli. “I’d still love to talk to Shad. Maybe I need permits or something.”
“I’ll text you his number.” Kelli set about doing that, and Clara continued to ask questions. Everyone contributed something except Tessa. She sat and listened, laughed when the others did, and just enjoyed herself among these people.
She’d had no idea she’d find this many women to be friends with here in Five Island Cove. She’d had no idea that taking a job close to her beachfront cottage would yield such a thing. Once the lunch ended, she and Clara got in the RideShare to get back to the ferry station.
“That was amazing,” Clara said. “I’ve been so nervous about doing that.”
“Really?” Tessa asked. “I really like them. They all seem really nice and normal.” Normal. That was all Tessa wanted after everything she’d been through in the past year.
“Yes,” Clara said. “I don’t know why I was nervous. I haven’t had many female friends in my life.” She looked over to Tessa, who nodded. “Lena and Scott have been everything for me for so long.” She almost looked worried admitting that.
“You didn’t like living here either, right?” Tessa asked. She felt like she’d stepped out onto ice when she wasn’t sure if it was frozen all the way through.
Clara looked out her window. “Right.”
“So you’re being brave,” Tessa said. “Coming back here and taking on such a big project.” She folded her hands in her lap. The urge to tell Clara about her inheritance and offer help once again flew to the forefront of her mind. Tessa bit back the words. She didn’t want to say anything until they’d met with Jennifer.
Clara turned toward her, a new light of hope in her eyes. “Yes,” she said slowly. “I’m trying to be brave.”
“I honestly don’t know if you can get that inn open,” Tessa said. “I’m willing to work with you and help as much as I can, but we’re…” She trailed off, what they were obvious.
Middle-aged women.
They couldn’t fix stairs or inspect buildings. Tessa couldn’t drive a ferry or pour a new dock.
“It’s a long shot,” Clara admitted. “I did have Julia Harper talk to me about coming to help. She runs The Lighthouse Inn, I guess?” Her eyebrows went up.
Tessa nodded, her smile widening. “You’d be lucky to have Julia. She and Maddy fixed up and opened The Lighthouse Inn just last fall. And I heard her talking to Eloise, who obviously knows what she’s doing too. She said the Cliffside Inn is booked through the end of the year.”
Clara nodded and looked back out the window. “I need to talk to both of them.”
“And now that you’ve talked to all of those ladies,” Tessa said. “You won’t be nervous to talk to them.” She gave Clara an encouraging smile the other woman didn’t see.
When they got back to Sanctuary Island, Tessa waved to Clara. “See you Thursday.”
“On Diamond,” Clara said, tapping and looking at her phone. “The Glass Dolphin. Eleven-thirty.” She looked up. “Let’s dress up. Look professional.”
Tessa didn’t need to look down at what she had on today to know it wouldn’t pass muster. She rarely wore jeans, but a pair of black cotton shorts wasn’t professional enough to meet with a potential investor.
“It is if the investor is you,” she muttered to herself as she headed down the sidewalk. Her house sat about a mile from the ferry station, and rather than wait for a ride, she could walk. About halfway there, she regretted her decision.
There wasn’t a breeze to be felt on the island and sweat ran down her face. By the time she made it home, her hair was soaking wet all along her hairline. Inside the house, Tessa washed her hands and plugged in her phone.
The sun beat down outside, and she changed into her swimming suit, stocked up her beach bag with bottled water and red licorice, stepped outside, and sprayed herself with fifty SPF sunscreen. Then, only a few steps past her back deck, her sandaled feet met sand, and she sighed as she continued toward a lounger she’d put beneath a tree a month ago.
