Then I met someone and made a terrible mistake, and had to leave Nan on the island while I lived far away in Los Angeles. I suffered through my terrible mistake for a year and a half until the day came that I didn’t have to endure the suffering anymore. Not physically at least. The sorrow was still with me and probably always would be, but I was determined to keep moving forward in a positive way. And I’d made a promise to myself not to let the bad parts of my past hurt me anymore. It was a goal and I planned to stick to it.
Five months ago I left LA and came back to Boston and then went about the process of getting my life back. Nan was still in her darling cottage on Blackstone Island where she had come to live all the way from England as a young bride. Many a time I’ve heard the locals tell the story about how my grandfather had brought home an English girl for a wife, as if she’d come from an alien planet. Nan and I had our citizenship in common—both British born but called America our home.
I’d lived in the US for so long now it was home in my mind.
“Penny for your thoughts, young lady.”
I turned toward twinkling blue eyes that regarded me kindly and smiled. Herman was a dedicated flirt. Since he had to be pushing seventy and was also the mayor of Blackstone Island, I gave him a pass. He was rumored to own most of the property on the island and to be worth millions. You’d never know it, though. He lived what appeared to be a modest life in a small house, with a really big oceanfront view—probably what constituted the millions he purportedly had—and was one of the most cheerful people I’d ever met in my life. He always greeted me warmly and asked about Nan. I’d wondered if he might be a little in love with my nan, actually.
“Good morning, Mayor. What has you heading off-island today?” I asked, suddenly curious. I’d never seen him on the morning ferry to Boston before.
“County council quarterly meeting in the city.” He looked out at the view of the shoreline and seemed pensive as he studied it. “One of the few reasons left to get me to leave, otherwise I wouldn’t.”
“Ahh, well I don’t blame you a bit. I’d choose the island over Boston any day.”
“Why don’t you then?” he asked quickly.
“Herman, you are the mayor so I know you are fully aware there is no thriving interior design business on Blackstone Island for which I might be employed.”
He stroked his chin thoughtfully before replying, “I’ll have to work on that one then, but you never answered my question.”
“What?”
“I offered you a penny for your thoughts, but I guess you’ve raised your rates.” He pretended to sulk. The man could still flirt like a champion and his handsome features hadn’t been erased by the years, either. He must have been quite a specimen in his younger days, breaking hearts all over the place. I’d have to ask Nan about his past sometime.
“For you, no charge.” I nodded toward the trees rising majestically along the rock cliff and the rocky beach below as the ferry moved around the horn of the island toward the open bay. “I was thinking about how happy I am to be back here. I do love that view so much.”
He admired the scene along with me for a minute. “Glad to have you back, too. I know your grandma is thrilled.” Was that a flicker of something I just saw pass through his deep-blue eyes? I waited for it. “By the way, how is your grandma doing since her surgery?”
As dependable as clockwork, dear Herman Blackstone was when it came to my nan.
“Thank you for asking. She is recovering well, but between you and me, I don’t think she was ready to retire from Blackwater when they closed the house. She loved her job, and now I think she’s a bit bored.” There were other things I left unsaid because I didn’t want to offend Herman in any way. It was his family who’d employed my grandmother for more than three decades before abandoning the property two years ago. Nan had been the housekeeper at the Blackwater estate for thirty-five years when it was boarded up for good and now sat empty along the western cliffs of the island. The family didn’t come here anymore. I’d heard it was only the father who loved it so much, but after he became ill they didn’t return again.
“A lot changed while you were away.”
“As things do,” I replied softly, sensing his sadness but not wanting to pry.
“Yes indeed, but that doesn’t mean there’s no room to improve the situation,” he said, “and remember where you’ve come from.” Clearly he was unhappy with his family giving up on the island.