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“Lovely! That’s all settled then,” Rhi said, clapping her hands together.
“I’m still not sure—” my mother began.
“Unless of course you think she should be here while you and Persi have a proper reunion,” Rhi said pointedly.
My mom sighed, defeated. “A ride into town sounds like a good idea,” she said.
“Excellent. Wren, I’m going to give you a package to take to a friend of mine who lives in town. I made something for her. Would you mind dropping it off for me? It will save me a trip.”
“Uh, sure, no problem. Can you tell me how to find—”
“Oh, you can’t miss it. She and her family own a restaurant right on the main road. It’s called Xiomara’s Cuban Cafe.”
My mom made a sound halfway between a groan and a laugh. “Oh, man, I almost forgot about Xiomara’s. Is the food still as good as I remember?”
Rhi smiled. “Better. I’ll write down the address for you, Wren.” And with that she hopped up from the wingchair and hurried off to the kitchen.
“Mom, are you sure it’s okay if I go?” I asked, reaching out to squeeze my mom’s hand. “I can stay here and help with… whatever you need.”
“No, no, Rhi is right. It’s better if you’re not here for this. You’ve seen what Persi’s like, and that’s on a good day. We don’t need to shovel any more generational trauma on top of this trash heap of a situation. Go explore. Have fun.”
“Are you sure?”
“Surely sure,” my mom replied, a call-and-answer we’d come to claim as our own. “Just make sure you’re back by four. Here, take some money and grab yourself some lunch at Xiomara’s while you’re at it.” She fished a twenty out of her wallet and handed it to me.
“You want me to bring you anything?” I asked, pocketing the bill.
“No, I’ll be good. Rhi probably has a seven-course feast planned, and I don’t want to disappoint her. Feeding people is kind of her thing. She and Xiomara have that in common. You’ll have to roll me out of here in a few days.”
I leaned forward and hugged her around the neck, breathing in the familiar scent of toothpaste and coconut shampoo. As though propelled by jealousy for the snuggles in which she was not included, Freya appeared from around the corner, mewed loudly, and leaped up into my mother’s lap.
“That’s right, you keep an eye on her while I’m gone,” I whispered into her fur. Freya answered with an imperious look as though to say,As if you even had to ask.
Rhi emerged from the kitchen carrying a small package wrapped in simple brown butcher paper, tied with a length of twine and a bundle of dried lavender. I followed her out the door and into the yard, where an old-fashioned bicycle was waiting for me propped up against the side of the house. It was light blue, with white tires, a wide wire basket attached to the handlebars, and a round little silver bell that trilled merrily when I tested it.
“I imagine your bicycle is a little more… modern,” Rhi said, an apologetic note in her voice. “But it should do the trick to get you there and back. She’s very reliable.”
“It’s adorable, actually,” I said, and I meant it. A bike like mine would have looked like an anachronism in this wild tumbled wilderness of a garden; Rhi’s fit right in.
“Just go straight back up the road you came and you’ll find yourself downtown,” she said. “Do you think you can…”
“I’ll be fine, I promise,” I told her. “And I’ve got my phone with me.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Rhi said. “Well, then, just… just be back by 4 o’clock.”
“Okay, then,” I said, taking the handlebars from her and mounting the bike. “Thanks for loaning this to me.”
“Of course. Anything here is…” Rhi cleared her throat. “We’re family, whatever happens.”
Something about the look in her eye made me feel like I might burst into tears, so I thanked her again and pushed off toward town. I could feel her eyes on me all the way down the road, until a bend swallowed the cottage up from view.
6
It took hardly any time at all to pedal back into the downtown area. The road mostly dipped downhill, and I could let my feet dangle to the sides as the bike coasted effortlessly beneath me, requiring only an occasional pedaling on my part to keep going. The sea stretched out to the horizon on my left; the waving marsh grasses provided tantalizing peeks of it whenever a particularly gusty breeze bent them low. I briefly considered just leaving the bike by the road and finding a path down to the water but decided against it. I’d told my mom I was going downtown, and I didn’t want to upset her by wandering off somewhere else instead. And besides, I had Rhi’s package to deliver, and I didn’t want anything to happen to it, or the bike for that matter, if I left them unattended by the roadside. I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to save my walk on the sand for another day.
Downtown Sedgwick Cove was so charming, however, that I soon forgot all about the beach. It was the quintessential little tourist spot, each shop and restaurant more quaint than the last. I lived in Maine, of course, but this place was the Maine people imagined when they planned their vacations by the sea, and even I couldn’t help but be charmed by it.
I dismounted Rhi’s bike outside of a little gallery where there was a bike rack and carefully locked it up, though she had assured me it wasn’t necessary “around here.” The watercolors displayed in the windows were pretty, so I decided to poke around inside. Tucking Rhi’s package carefully into my bag, I entered the shop, causing a bell to jingle merrily over the door. An older woman sat at a wide, low table toward the back, pausing in the framing of a watercolor print to greet me.
