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Wes made his way to the Sunrise Cove that afternoon to meet with Frank Fish before returning to Providence. Frank was already seated on the back veranda with a novel splayed open in front of him and a glass of white wine. In his tweed suit, he looked like a professor of psychology. Wes didn’t look half bad, either. He’d dressed in another suit jacket and a pair of dark jeans. He had to admit that Beatrice had elevated his style from “sloppy older man” to “sophisticated gentleman.”
Frank stood to hug him, which felt like a surprise. It wasn’t normal for older men to hug like this. It touched Wes’s heart.
“Big rumors around the inn about that archaeological site downstairs,” Frank said.
Wes chuckled. “We still don’t know what’s back there. The anticipation is killing me.”
No, his mind corrected. Your dementia is killing you. He swallowed and turned as a server approached to take his order.
“Iced tea,” he said, “and a salmon salad.” Amanda said salmon helped with brain health.
“I’ll have another glass of white,” Frank said, “and a burger. No cheese.”
“French fries?” the server asked.
Frank gave Wes a bug-eyed look. “Tell me you’ll share?”
Wes’s laughter bubbled up. Whether he lived another thirty years or died tomorrow, he couldn’t resist french fries. “Okay.”
The server retreated to the bistro kitchen to put in their order.
“Tell me,” Wes said, “what are the rumors? What do the guests think we have downstairs?”
“I heard a little kid telling his mom there were mummies down there.”
“Egyptian mummies?”
“I believe so,” Frank said. “But another guy thinks it’s all a scam to boost tourism. People don’t like to believe in magical things anymore. Have you noticed that? Everyone is so cynical these days.”
Wes tilted his head. “Usually, I see people during the best times of their lives. They’re on vacation. They’re celebrating their romantic love and their family love. They’re swimming and sailing and eating and…” He trailed off. “What I mean is, I don’t hear much cynicism. But that doesn’t mean it’s not out there.”
“You live in a bubble,” Frank said. “I should really move out here.”
“You really should.”
After lunch, Wes led Frank downstairs so he could see the wall. The concrete they’d torn apart before finding it was jagged and dangerous, and rubble was everywhere. Frank approached the wall slowly, then gave Wes a look. “Doesn’t it make you think you’re Indiana Jones?”
“You think the Holy Grail is back there?” Wes asked. He could get on board with everlasting life, he supposed. As long as he could spend it with the ones he loved on the most beautiful island in the world.
“Or the Ark of the Covenant,” Frank said. He folded his lips. “Anna would have loved this.”
Wes’s chest heaved. He could practically see Anna in the basement with them now, folding laundry or searching for cleaning supplies or calling out, “Wes? Can you come down here? I need your help!” In his mind’s eye, she’d been frozen forever in her late thirties.
“She’d be so proud of the life you built for yourself,” Frank said, clapping Wes on the shoulder. “Anna loved squeezing all she could out of life.”
“I never knew how she managed it.”
Wes had a dark thought that Anna had “squeezed so much out of life” that she’d had an affair with Stan Ellis and drowned. But he promptly shook that away. He would always love Anna, warts and all. That was the nature of marrying someone. You were forced to see every single side of them; everything that made them unique—even the parts that didn’t fit with you.
Chapter Ten
Genevieve was ten days old when she went to the Sheridan House for the first time. Amanda wrapped her up against her chest and walked her down the beach, listening for the first sounds of her family’s laughter. Sam said he planned to meet her there after taking care of a few things at the Sunrise Cove, and dinner wasn’t set till seven—three hours from now. But Amanda had a hunch that such a beautiful day meant most of the Sheridans would gather earlier to enjoy the sun. And when she turned to look up at the gorgeous house, she saw a heap of them across the porch—
Audrey, Max, Christine, Mia, Lola, Susan, Claire, Rita, and Steve. Steve was the odd man out, drinking a beer off to the side while the others listened with rapt attention as Rita recounted her recent case. She was a private investigator. It was how she and Steve met.
And now, they were finally giving their romance a real shot.
Earlier this year, Rita had been instrumental in bringing Claire’s daughter back home after she disappeared. The story had exploded to reveal that Claire’s longtime husband, Russel, was having an affair. He was now gone, and Claire was left to pick up the pieces of her life. “At least I’ll always have the flower shop,” she said so often it broke Amanda’s heart.
