Page 18 of The Quiet Rebuild

Lindsey felt a blush crawl up her cheeks.

They sat down, Lindsey across from Candice, and Candice between Frank and Jake. The server came with Lindsey and Candice’s white wines and asked how things were going at the Harbor House. “I heard a rumor about a celebrity?” she asked.

“No celebrities,” Candice said firmly. “Just women who need a place to heal.”

“I think you and your mother are doing God’s work,” the server said, hiding her disappointment with the shake of her head. “I hope you’ll let us islanders help out sometime.”

“That’s sweet,” Candice said, her voice soft. “Thank you.”

When the server left, Jennette, too, tried to get news about the celebrity from them, but neither Candice nor Lindsey would budge.

“There’s nobody you’d know up there,” Candice assured her. “Let’s talk about your promotion! Tell us everything.”

Realizing it was no use, Jennette launched into an explanation of her new responsibilities and the money she’d be making. It was a marked difference from her previous role, and Lindsey could feel the energy and joy emanating from her friend. Lindsey couldn’t remember ever feeling that way about something career-related, except for maybe when she’d gotten her ultimate license for scuba diving instruction. Overjoyed for her, sure she was a genius in the making, Christopher had picked her up and swung her in a circle, and she’d felt tears come to her eyes. “You did good, baby,” Christopher had said.

“Another round?” The server was back, smiling down at them. They were regulars, and she knew their orders without being told.

“Of course. We’re celebrating!” Claire said.

“There’s always a reason to celebrate with this crew,” the server said.

It was then that Lindsey heard Jake talking to Candice about why he was visiting. “Maybe three or four weeks, to get a handle on it,” he was saying.

“I can’t believe you get paid to do that,” Candice said.

“I get paid for the articles,” Jake explained. “But the work that goes into it far surpasses the time it takes to write the articles. It suits me. But it might not suit everyone. I’m single. I have no responsibilities. I can take all the time I need.”

“But how did you get into that line of work?” Candice asked.

Lindsey tried to imagine what Jake’s work was. He wrote about something, maybe a typically Nantucket activity. Fishing? Sailing? He didn’t look like a typical sailor, but she supposed you could write about anything if you researched it enough.

Jake explained himself. “When I was a kid, I was a pretty big nerd.” He laughed. “I became obsessed with the birds surrounding my childhood home. I kept a record of every single one that flew past. Cardinals. Bluebirds. Finches. I took stock of what they ate, their flying patterns, and when they disappeared every year to head south. I wrote as many papers as I could about the subject, and then I actually majored in ornithology, which is the study of birds.”

“Ah, so you’re a super nerd,” Candice teased.

Jake threw his head back in laughter. “I get paid to be as nerdy as I can get.”

“That’s incredible,” Lindsey interjected before she knew fully what she was saying.

Jake blinked at her, his smile widening. Maybe he hadn’t realized she was eavesdropping. “You know, I still love it. Every day I get to wake up and go into the world and do what I really love.”

“I thought you did something outdoorsy,” Lindsey said. “I mean, I could tell.”

“Being indoors never suited me,” he said. “Even when I write the articles, I want to be outside. Here on Nantucket, I have a huge porch overlooking the water. It’s a little cold some days, but I bundle up and make a big pot of coffee and write on my computer out there. I make it work.”

Lindsey smiled. For some reason, she was thinking about her time in Costa Rica again. When nobody spoke at first, she sipped her wine and added, “I used to say I never wanted to go inside ever again.”

“When was that?” Candice asked.

Lindsey didn’t skip a beat. “In Costa Rica.”

Candice blinked at her, but Jake burst out, “Costa Rica! I have about a thousand things to say about the birds down there.”

“I imagine you do. We got plenty of bird-watchers coming through there,” Lindsey said. “I was involved with the tourism industry. I must have talked to a hundred people about resplendent quetzals and keel-billed toucans. I learned to appreciate them much more than I might have otherwise.”

Candice gave her a funny look. Lindsey wasn’t sure why she’d so easily fallen into the story of her past, especially after skirting around Candice’s questions. Maybe it was easier to translate the past to a stranger.

“You were in tourism?” Candice asked.