Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 125117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“Oh damn, it’s my mom. I’m gonna.” He gestured to the phone and Ash nodded. “Hey, Mom.”
“Truman Alexander, where on earth are you?”
“Uh. Maine.”
“I know you’re in Maine. That lesbian girl at your house told Miri.”
Truman rolled his eyes at “lesbian girl.”
“Well, if you know, Mom…”
“What on god’s green earth are you doing in Maine? D’you fancy freezing to death?”
“I do, yeah.”
“Truman.”
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ve got warm clothes, and I’m staying at Greta’s house—that’s the lesbian girl—so I’m not gonna freeze to death.” Then her words registered. “Wait, Miriam went to my house? Why?”
“She’s your sister, darling.”
“Yeah, I know. But she never told me she was coming or anything.”
“Family doesn’t need to ask, Truman. Family is always welcome. She was very irritated that she made the trip all the way there only to find that person in your home.”
“Yeah, see, if she had texted, then she wouldn’t have suffered the irritation of finding I wasn’t at home.”
Truman would have been willing to bet everything he owned that Miriam had been in town for reasons entirely unrelated to familial closeness and had wanted to crash with him for the night before heading out to wherever her next stop was.
“Listen, Mom, everything’s fine. I just wanted to get away for a while. Take a vacation. That’s all.”
Vacation was a word he knew his mother could understand. She was forever planning her next weekend getaway, even though she rarely got farther away than Texas for a spa weekend with her girlfriends.
“Hmph,” his mother said, powerless in the face of the word vacation. “Well, I hope you get your fill of the freezing north. You can show me pictures at Christmas. Speaking of which, I need to discuss your father’s gift with you. I’ve had my eye on…”
Truman let his mother’s voice wash over him. It was nice to hear a familiar accent after being on Owl Island, but he found himself irritated with her faster than he usually was. Every year, she discussed elaborate plans to shower Truman’s father with a Christmas gift of his dreams, and every year, Truman’s father said in no uncertain terms that what he wanted for Christmas was a new golf club and a weekend at the races.
Truman simply mm-hmmed in the right places and watched Ash looking something up on his phone. Truman hoped it was flower-arranging event related.
“Truman!”
“Uh-huh, yeah?”
“Don’t you think that’s simply perfect?”
“Yes, Mom, perfect. Listen, I’ve gotta run because I have a work call in a few minutes, okay?”
As his mother sighed, the door to Thorn opened.
“Goodbye, dear. Do try not to freeze to death.”
“Yeah, I’ll try. Love you, bye.”
Speaking of mothers, the woman who’d just entered Thorn was Ash’s.
“Hi, Julia,” Truman said.
“Mom, hey. You okay? What’s up?” Ash asked, checking the time and crossing to her.
Julia squeezed Ash’s shoulders and smiled easily. “Nothing’s up. I’m just popping in to say hello and buy some flowers.”
Ash gave her a look. “Mom, you can have whatever you want, but I’m not taking your money.”
“That,” she said with a pat to his cheek, “is a singularly terrible way to do business.” She turned from Ash to Truman. “Talk some sense into my son, would you? His generosity is borderline self-destructive.”
Truman snorted at this perfect distillation. “Damn, she’s got you pegged,” Truman said.
“Yeah, yeah.”
Julia winked and began perusing the flowers. “Do you have any peonies, darling?”
“Yeah, in the corner there.” Ash pointed at a bucket of furled yellow and pink peonies, their petals a tight promise.
“I love peonies,” Julia said to Truman.
Ash was biting his thumbnail, and Truman had the sudden conviction that Ash ordered peonies for this very reason.
“What’s the occasion, Mom?”
“I’m having some lovely young people over for coffee tomorrow.”
“That’s nice,” Truman said as Ash said, “What? Who?”
“You remember Mallory and Jack’s son, Bradley?”
Ash nodded.
“And the McFaddens’ cousin?”
“Uh, Tania? Tori?”
“Tori, yes. They’re coming for coffee. Bradley wants to be a journalist, and he’s started writing freelance. And Tori’s a filmmaker. Well, she wants to be. They’re so interesting, and we got to talking, and I invited them over tomorrow.”
“That’s really nice, Mom. I hope you have a great time.”
“I’m sure we will,” she said breezily.
Truman watched Ash. His expression was perfectly fixed between joy and pain.
“Can I wrap those up for you?” He slid the flowers Julia had chosen from her hands. “Truman wanted to ask you something.”
“I did? Oh! Yeah. I’m trying to figure out if someone used to live on Owl Island. She would’ve been here more than twenty years ago, and she would’ve lived in Greta Russakoff’s house. She was a writer and wasn’t very friendly…maybe didn’t socialize with anyone.”
“Are you talking about Marlene Travis?” Julia’s whole face lit up. “She rented that house every summer for seven years. Had to be, oh, well, actually, she started coming two summers before Ash was born, so, twenty-eight years ago?”