His recollection made Ivy smile. Zoey was so moved by the genuine connection he seemed to have formed with both her aunts that she decided she shouldn’t hold it against him that he was also friends with Mark; clearly, he was the exception to the rule.
“So, we should leave the rhododendrons just as they are and I’ll buy new bulbs for the light, right Aunt Ivy?” Zoey asked.
When her aunt said yes, Zoey expected Mark to put up a fight again, but he was silently rubbing his temples. Their meeting might not have gone according to his plans, but she didn’t think he should look so dour; at the very least, he’d eventually be inheriting a modern, upscale stove.
Zoey cleared the table and washed the dishes while Nick, Mark and Ivy placed the order online and worked out the details for the delivery and installation. Finally, Nick got up to leave, asking, “How is that balustrade holding up, Mrs.—I mean, Ivy?”
“I haven’t been sliding down it since you fixed it, so it’s still nice and sturdy,” Ivy joked. Nick offered his arm and she used it to pull herself up from her chair. Turning to Mark, she said, “I didn’t tell you this because I knew you’d worry I’m becoming too forgetful, but your friend here saved me from certain death when I left the gas on, without the flame lit. He was working on the balustrade that day and he smelled it. I’m grateful he keeps an eye out for me.”
Zoey’s ears perked up. But Mark already knows about the gas. He said Aunt Ivy told him about it when he was checking in on her, she thought. It’s strange that she’d forget admitting something like that. Zoey was beginning to wonder if she was wrong about her aunt’s memory. Maybe Ivy wasn’t just distracted because she was mourning. Maybe her forgetfulness was more serious than Zoey wanted to believe… Noticing movement in her peripheral vision, she looked over just as Mark shook his head and pressed a finger to his lips, signaling Nick to keep quiet. Nick nodded.
It took a moment for the realization to click. So that’s how Mark knew—Nick was here that day and he must have told him. While Zoey was relieved to be wrong about her aunt having another memory lapse, she was disappointed to be right about Nick being in cahoots with her cousin. When Mark said he checked in from time to time to see how Aunt Sylvia and Aunt Ivy were doing, I assumed he meant he called them. But apparently, he’s been checking in with Nick.
Zoey could appreciate that Nick was trying to be helpful by reporting the stove incident to Mark; it was the responsible thing to do. But she resented it that her cousin had involved him in keeping tabs on Sylvia and Ivy in the first place. Nick wasn’t family. He didn’t even work at the house very often—Carla, who came twice a week to clean, had been there far more consistently over the years than any other contractor. And Zoey was the one who’d been living with Sylvia and Ivy for the past three months. But Mark never called her to ask how they were doing. He virtually never called her at all.
So why had her cousin made an arrangement to check in with his high school buddy? And what was in it for Nick? Had he been looking after Sylvia and Ivy as favor to Mark, so that Mark would hire him for the big, future renovation projects he had planned?
Furthermore, if everything was on the up-and-up, why were the two men acting so conspiratorial? Probably because they know that Aunt Ivy would be offended if she found out Nick’s been spying on her as if she were a batty old woman! Okay, that was too harsh. Zoey had seen too much evidence of Nick’s respect for Ivy to believe that’s what he thought about her. But something about the whole situation made Zoey recognize she’d been hasty in thinking she could let her guard down around Nick.
She flicked water from her fingers and wiped her hands on the hanging tie towel. Facing the others, she said, “You’re right, Aunt Ivy, it’s very helpful to have an extra pair of eyes looking out for you.” Which is why I’ll be keeping an even closer watch on Mark and Nick from now on.
Chapter Five
Zoey had planned to poke around in the attic on Friday afternoon to see if she could gain any insight into what Mark may have been trying to find. But once he left the island, she felt so relaxed that she wound up taking a nap instead. Then Gabi came home and both aunts peppered her with questions about her first day at school, which she said she liked in general, although the classes were a lot smaller than what she was used to in California.
It rained on Saturday and Sunday and even though she usually loved listening to it pattering against the rooftop, Zoey didn’t go into the attic then, either. The longer Mark was out of sight, the farther out of mind she wanted to put him and his ‘monkey business,’ as Ivy would say. After the stove was installed, she’d be able to forget about Nick, too.
Meanwhile, she had more important things to focus on, like continuing her job search. And shopping for and preparing appealing no-cook meals, since she was worried about using the stove in its current condition. She also played cribbage with her aunt and niece more times than she could count. The card game had been something Sylvia and Ivy enjoyed daily; they even bet on it, awarding the winner a penny per point. Teaching Gabi how to play provided a brief distraction for Ivy when she became overwrought with loneliness for Sylvia, which happened several times a day. It made Zoey worry about how she’d fare once she herself went back to Providence and Gabi returned to California, but maybe if she got her aunt involved at the senior center or with the ladies’ fellowship at church, that would help. And I can come here on the weekends, Zoey thought. In any case, that was a bridge she’d have to cross in the future.
By Monday, she was itching to get out of the house, so while Ivy was napping she walked halfway to the high school to meet Gabi. On the way home, she suggested instead of using the sidewalk for the final half mile, they cut over the dunes to Rose Beach and follow the shoreline that ran parallel to Main Street. As usual, Zoey was hot and she convinced Gabi they should remove their shoes and roll up their pants’ legs so they could splash through the tidal pools.
“When you were a baby, you used to put everything in your mouth—even more than most toddlers do. Your mom and I would take you to this beach and she’d have to watch you like a hawk. If we turned our backs for even a second, you’d be licking a fistful of sand or eating seaweed. One time your mom caught you sucking on a pebble and you wouldn’t spit it out. She freaked and did a finger sweep of your mouth. Guess what you really had in there?”
“I don’t know.”
“A live periwinkle snail!”
“Gross.”
Zoey had expected more of a reaction. Gabi had been quiet this morning, too, and she wondered if she’d had an argument with Kathleen yesterday, because for once Gabi had actually answered the phone when she called. Or maybe something happened at school. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just tired.”
“Oh. Were you too warm last night to sleep? I know I was.” The heat was on again but Zoey hadn’t wanted to open her windows because without the screens on them, insects could get in.
“No. I heard something creaking in the middle of the night. It woke me up.”
“That was probably Moby going in or out of Aunt Sylvia’s room. One of these days, I really should oil that door.”
“Oh, so that’s what it was!” Gabi snapped her fingers, suddenly animated.
Zoey heard the relief in her voice and wondered if she felt nervous because she was used to having her father in her house instead of living with all women. “Benjamin’s Manor is very safe, you know. Dune Island has one of the lowest crime rates in the country, except in the summer, when there’s an increase in trespassing. But that’s because the vacationers want to take shortcuts to the beach, not because they’re stealing stuff from houses or hurting people or anything like that.”
Gabi stopped to a balance a slipper shell on her big toe. She kicked her leg at the knee and the shell flew upward but she wasn’t quick enough to catch it. Scott used to be pretty good at that trick. Had he taught it to his daughter on a beach in California or did she remember it from when she was here as a kid?
�
�You know how you said I could talk to you about anything?” the girl asked tentatively.
Suddenly, Zoey’s stomach felt as if she’d been sucking on a periwinkle snail. She hoped nothing serious was upsetting Gabi but if it was, she hoped she’d know how to handle it. “Yes. I meant it, too.”
“Okay… so today at lunch I told some kids where I’m staying. And a boy from my trig class said a woman who lived in Aunt Ivy’s house used to go up on the widow’s walk during a full moon and make a screeching sound that people could hear all over the island.”
Zoey had heard variations of this rumor when she was young, too, but she thought it had died out a long time ago. She should have known better. And she probably should have prepared Gabi better, too. But the truth was even more unsettling than the myth and she hadn’t wanted to tell her about it if it wasn’t necessary.
“Hmm. Sounds like that kid would have believed Mark’s story about the dentil molding, too,” she said, stalling until she could figure out how much of their aunts’ history she should disclose. Would it be too troubling for Gabi to hear it, especially considering everything else that was going on in her life right now?
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, at first. But then a different boy said he’d heard that story, too. Except the woman didn’t go to the widow’s walk during a full moon, she went up there every time it rained to look for her husband, who was lost at sea. And she wasn’t screaming, she was crying. He said her name was Sylvia and she had a newborn baby and he said some other stuff, too.” Gabi stopped and faced Zoey. “Is this one of those unfounded rumors I shouldn’t believe or is it true?”
“Well…”
“Aunt Zoey, you just said I could talk to you about anything.” Gabi crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not a little kid any more. I’m old enough to know. If my mom was here, she’d tell me.”
That’s the first time I’ve heard you mention your mother, Zoey noticed. Although she didn’t especially appreciate the guilt-trip comparison, she realized her niece was right; Jessica would have been open about it. Besides, she and her sister were both close to Gabi’s age when they found out and it had helped them understand their family dynamics better. “Okay. C’mon. Let’s sit a minute.”
They walked farther up on shore and sat in the sand at the very foot of a dune, so they wouldn’t disturb the new beach grass that had been planted higher up to protect it from erosion. Peering across the flats toward a ship on the horizon, Zoey began, “What I’m going to tell you is, well, it’s sort of a family secret. Or at least it’s something we want to be discreet about, out of respect for our aunts’ privacy. So you have to promise not to share it with anyone else. Even if they say things you know are false, don’t try to prove them wrong by telling them what really happened. And please don’t talk to Aunt Ivy about it unless she brings it up first, because it might make her sad.” Zoey faced her niece and narrowed her eyes. “You promise?”
When Gabi nodded her agreement, Zoey continued hesitantly, “It’s kind of complicated and I’m not sure where to start… You might not know why Aunt Ivy always refers to her husband as Captain Denny, do you?”
“Isn’t it because he was a sea captain?”
“Actually, when she met him, he was a boatswain—that’s like a boss for the other deckhands. He was working his way up to become a first mate because he was very ambitious and it was his dream to become a licensed captain, buy his own boat and hire a crew instead of fishing for someone else.”
Zoey explained that Dennis had been saving up since he was eighteen but he didn’t have nearly enough money to make a purchase that big. So the spring after they got married, Ivy decided to use some of the money she’d inherited to help him buy a forty-two-foot trawler. And she’d convinced her brother, Marcus, to co-invest in exchange for a percent of the profits from Denny’s fishing business. He also agreed to do the bookkeeping since he was really good at figures but couldn’t hold a full-time job because of his illness.
“In early April, the boat was christened Boston Ivy, which was a play on Aunt Ivy’s name and birthplace, as well as another name for the ivy known as woodbine. He assembled a crew and appointed Marcus his honorary first mate for the maiden voyage. It was in title only, since Denny wasn’t officially a captain and his brother-in-law had no maritime skills, but Marcus felt very complimented by it and he was looking forward to the expedition. Aunt Sylvia, however, was pregnant and didn’t want him to go because he’d been experiencing one of his weak spells. She was worried he’d get seasick and pass out. But Aunt Ivy convinced her Captain Denny wouldn’t let anything happen to him, so off they went. According to the crew, they brought in a good haul and they were all excited about their success.”
Zoey paused. She hated telling this next part. “That afternoon as they were returning, the fog was so thick they decided to dock at Port Newcomb instead of Benjamin’s Harbor. Even though they were advancing slowly, the visibility was very poor and the boat edged alongside the jetty, too close, like this.” Zoey demonstrated with her hands.
“It grated against the rocks and tipped at about a forty degree angle, grinding to a halt. Marcus and another man were thrown overboard. One crew member said Denny jumped in to rescue them so fast the other guys hardly had a chance to comprehend what was going on. He swam to Marcus, first, probably because he knew how frail he was.” Zoey inhaled deeply and then blew out through her lips, equivocating about whether she should keep going.
“Did Marcus drown?” Gabi questioned bluntly.
“No, but he must have landed on a rock just beneath the surface because the medical examiner’s report indicated his back was broken and he probably died from the impact. Denny didn’t know that though, so he was trying to keep Marcus’s head above water while he swam backwards, pulling him toward the jetty. As he got closer, a wave slammed him against the rocks and he gashed his head, but he didn’t let go of Marcus. The crew members managed to scramble off the boat, toss a rope to the other guy in the water and somehow they hoisted Denny and Marcus out, too. When the ambulance arrived, Denny was barely conscious, but his arm was still wrapped around his brother-in-law.” Even though it happened long before she was born and to people she had never known, Zoey’s eyes brimmed at the thought. “He, um, he died of a brain injury about an hour after he got to the hospital.”
“Wow. That’s awful. No wonder it makes Aunt Ivy sad to talk about it.” Gabi hugged her knees, her hair obscuring her profile. Zoey waited silently for the teenager to absorb what she’d been told. Eventually Gabi remarked, “Everyone in our family dies young.”
Zoey felt as if she’d inhaled a shard of glass. Was Gabi thinking about her mother’s death? Was she worried about her own? “We might not have the healthiest—or the most fruitful—family tree, but not everyone dies young,” she reassured her. “Look at Aunt Ivy, she’s eighty-seven and still going strong.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Gabi stretched her legs out in front of her and wiggled her toes. “If she never talks about how Captain Denny died, how did you find out?”
“Every now and then she’ll make a general reference to it. But I heard most of the details from my mom, who heard them from her parents. And the accident was reported in all the newspapers, even the ones in Boston.” Zoey had looked it up in an online archive a couple years ago.
“Oh. So does that mean the kids could have been right about Aunt Sylvia going on the widow’s walk? Was she up there because she was grieving?”
“Mm, yes and no. See, when Aunt Sylvia and Aunt Ivy got to the hospital and were informed that their husbands had died, Aunt Sylvia was so traumatized she immediately went into labor. Even though it was more than a month before she was due, she gave birth to a baby boy.”
“That was the second Marcus, right? Marcus, Jr.?”
“Exactly. He was Mark’s father—Marcus Winslow the Second. He was born perfectly healthy, which was amazing, all things considered. But Aunt Sylvia was so distraught about losing her husband, she wo
uldn’t touch the baby for three or four months. Today she’d probably be diagnosed with postpartum depression or maybe post-traumatic stress disorder, but at the time everyone called it a nervous breakdown. Since she didn’t have any income or family support, Aunt Ivy moved her and Marcus Jr. out of the rented cottage and into her house, so she could take care of the baby and look after her sister-in-law, too.”
“And that helped Aunt Sylvia feel better?”
“Yes, but it took a while. The turning point came one night at the end of the summer when she went up to the widow’s walk. Aunt Ivy didn’t hear her overhead, which meant Aunt Sylvia must have been very quiet. In other words, she wasn’t howling at the moon. She wasn’t crying in the rain or watching for her husband. She wasn’t doing any of the things your classmates told you she was doing. And it was just that one time, not something that happened repeatedly,” Zoey emphasized.
“Lots of people went up to their widow’s walks at night in the summer to stargaze and have a drink, or whatever, just like they do now. It wasn’t a big deal. But the islanders knew what had happened to Aunt Sylvia’s husband and how emotionally fragile she was. A concerned neighbor must have seen her up there, feared the worst and called the police, because a couple of officers showed up, banging on the door. Aunt Ivy’s afraid of heights, so they had to go bring Sylvia down. By that time, Marcus Jr. had woken up and he was wailing his head off. The neighbors might have heard him or seen the police vehicle in front of the house and that’s how some of the stories you heard got started. They may have been more accurate at the beginning, but I’m sure the details changed the more they were retold over a couple of generations. That’s what I meant when I said some of the gossip you’ll hear has an element of truth…”
As gingerly as she could, Zoey confided that the police surmised Sylvia went to the widow’s walk with the intention of jumping off the roof. Which wasn’t true—she later told Ivy that’s where Marcus had proposed exactly one year ago to the day and she just wanted to feel close to him again. But when the police questioned what she was doing up there, she wouldn’t tell them, for fear she’d sound unstable. Ironically, her silence made them even more determined to take her to the hospital for an evaluation, which she adamantly resisted.
Aunt Ivy's Cottage: A totally gripping and emotional page turner Page 9
