An Unlikely Family. Cynthia Thomason
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She swung her legs over the side of the mattress and reached for her robe. “Just a moment, Mrs. Poole.”
She opened the door to her landlady’s welcoming smile and a muffin nestled in a cloth napkin. “Just made these this morning,” Hester said. “Blueberry.”
Evie took the muffin. “Thanks. It smells delicious.”
“And that’s not all, dear,” Hester said, thrusting a vellum envelope at Evie’s chest. “This was just delivered for you.”
Evie’s name was scripted across the front. “Who is it from?”
“Our handsome chief of police, Jack Hogan, dropped it off, so I assume it’s from his wife, our mayor.”
“Oh? That would be Claire.”
Hester nodded. “Hope I didn’t wake you, dear, but you’ve already missed our famous sunrise. I didn’t think you’d want to sleep through the spectacle of the dolphins swimming just off shore.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Sister and I are outside now. Why don’t you bring your muffin and join us?”
“I will. Just give me a moment.”
Evie shut the door, opened the envelope and unfolded a note in clear, precise handwriting. It was signed, “Claire Hogan,” the woman Evie had spoken with on several occasions.
She read the note while she filled the teakettle. Claire was welcoming her to the island and asking her to meet her and some friends for lunch at the Heron Point Hotel. Evie wondered how Claire knew she had arrived, but then she realized that in a town this size, her escapades at the school last evening might have become a topic for local gossip. Or, more likely, Jack Hogan had read a report of the incident when he’d come to work this morning and told his wife.
She filled a mug with tea, took the portable phone to the dinette set and dialed the number on the invitation. The mayor answered on the first ring. “Hello? Claire Hogan.”
Evie identified herself and confirmed that she would be delighted to meet at the hotel at noon. The prospect of making female friends cheered her. She dressed in shorts and a T-shirt and went outside to watch the dolphins, the first of many experiences she never could have had if she’d stayed in Detroit. She’d work on those educational goals later.
CLAIRE HOGAN LOOKED pretty much as Evie had pictured her—a combination of sophistication and small-town charm. She was tall and slim, with blond hair pulled back in a smooth style. She’d been the mayor of Heron Point for two years and, Evie decided, the town couldn’t have a better representative.
Her two friends were quite different from Claire, but it was obvious the three were bound by a deep emotional connection. Petula Sweeney, Claire’s aunt, readily admitted to being a “sexy sixty” and newly married to fishing charter captain, Finn Sweeney, who just happened to be the father of the third woman in Claire’s luncheon group. Helen Sweeney-Anderson, a new mother, was blond, wiry and outspoken. Evie liked them all right away.
Helen took a sip of Coke, while rocking a baby stroller gently with her toe and complaining that she couldn’t wait to be done with breast-feeding so she could have a beer once in a while. “So what do you think of Heron Point so far?” she asked.
“It’s great,” Evie said. “This morning I saw my first dolphins not in an aquarium.”
“That’s the best thing about the Pink Ladies,” Pet said. “The dolphin show. Every morning like clockwork. It’s almost as if the dolphins know they’re supposed to entertain Hester’s guests.”
Claire leaned forward. “There’s a lot to like about this quirky little town, Evie. The longer you stay, the more you realize our island is quite unique.”
Evie smiled. “I think I already know that. I looked for an office supply store and a supermarket on my way in this morning. I didn’t see either one.”
“The Island Market has fresh produce and meat,” Helen said, “and you can get pens and paper at the Island Drug Store. For anything else, you have to go to Office Max in Micopee.”
“What about a beauty salon?”
“We have a lady who cuts hair in her kitchen,” Claire offered. “I go to her for trims, but at least four times a year my daughter, Jane, and I get the royal treatment at a spa in Gainesville. You’ll have to come with us next time.”
The conversation switched to each woman’s occupation. Petula worked as a waitress at the Green Door Café and said she wouldn’t quit no matter how much Finn pleaded with her to stay at home. “I get to be first to learn all the gossip,” she said. “I can usually just look at our customers and tell what’s going on in their lives.”
Helen laughed. “Pet is our resident psychic—or at least that’s what she wants you to believe.” She looked at the baby sleeping in the stroller. “But she was wrong about this one. Until the last moment she thought this baby would be a girl. I never even asked the doctor the sex since Ethan and I were so confident of Pet’s prediction. And yet here he lies, Thomas Finn Anderson in the flesh.”
Pet shook her head and chuckled. “I don’t know how I missed this one. I was so sure.” She laid her hand on top of the baby’s. “But I’ve changed enough diapers since Thomas was born to know without a doubt that he’s male.”
“So you’re a stay-at-home mom?” Evie asked Helen.
“Actually, I’m a college student. I’ve just earned enough credits to be an official sophomore.” Helen laughed. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m a bit old for keggers and sorority rushes, but better late than never, I always say.”
“Absolutely. What are you studying?”
“I’m going to be a teacher.”
“Really? You’ll have to apply at Heron Point Elementary when you get your degree,” Evie said. “I have a sixth sense about people, and I can tell you’d make a great teacher.”
“Thanks, but I’m kind of an English freak. I’m going for my secondary certificate.”
The waiter brought a tray of scones and filled each woman’s cup with tea. Evie took a sip, savoring the hint of orange flavor. “This morning when I was dolphin-watching, I never thought I’d be enjoying real English tea three hours later,” she said.
Claire gave her a coy smile. “Like I said, there’s a lot about Heron Point that will surprise you. Have you met anyone besides us, and Hester Poole, of course?”
Figuring that Claire knew about her encounter with one of her police officers the night before, Evie spooned a generous helping of jelly onto her scone and thought about her answer. The words describing Billy Muldoone caught in her throat, however, when she glanced up and saw the man himself standing at the entrance, all neat, pressed, decidedly official and every bit as handsome as he’d looked the day before. She swallowed, nodded toward the doorway and said, “As a matter of fact…”
All three women followed her gaze. “You’ve met Billy?” Helen said.
“I did. He caught me red-footed, prowling around the school last night before dark. The back door was unlocked, so I just walked in for a quick look-around.” She smiled. “He didn’t seem to like it much.”
Helen laughed. “That’s our Billy. And I bet he didn’t believe a word of your story, either.”
“Something like that. For a minute I thought he was going to—” she lowered her voice in her best imitation of Billy’s growl “—take me downtown for questioning.”
“I know what that’s like,” Helen said. “I’ve had my share of run-ins with Heron Point’s finest.” She licked jelly off her finger and whispered, “Don’t look now, but he spotted us and he’s headed this way.”
Evie quickly buried her face in