by Anne Canadeo
“Amy told me you were going to give a lesson to her knitting group tonight, Maggie.” Suzanne glanced over her a shoulder at Maggie. “That’s very nice of you. They’re all in a tizzy about it.”
Amy Cutler, their connection to the deluxe—and free—weekend accommodations, had been Suzanne’s college roommate. They’d stayed in touch over the years, though Amy and her husband, Rob, had lived in Southern California for a while. They’d returned to New England almost two years ago, and Suzanne had advised them on finding a new home.
The Cutlers had settled in Osprey Shores, a private resort community on Osprey Island, off the coast of Maine. Amy’s husband had done well in the biotech industry, and was working as an independent consultant and inventor. Living in a remote spot, far from a major city, was not an issue for them. He’d apparently done so well that they were able to buy two cottages, one to live in and a second as an investment.
As Suzanne drove steadily toward their destination, Lucy recalled how, at a knitting meeting a few weeks ago, her friends debated where to take her for a bachelorette weekend. Not that she expected them to take her anywhere. The phrase bachelorette weekend actually made her a little wary. But they were very insistent. Her wedding was approaching swiftly but they couldn’t settle on the right spot for the getaway—the choices ranging from Martha’s Vineyard to Mexico.
In the midst of their conversation, Suzanne found a text from Amy, asking if Suzanne could help market the second cottage the Cutlers owned to vacationers. Serendipity, Lucy decided as her friends quickly agreed the island would be the perfect spot for their girls’ holiday. When Suzanne asked Amy if the place was available, her old friend had insisted they come and stay for free.
“It’s very sweet to hear they’re in a tizzy. I’m not such a big deal,” Maggie replied.
“Maybe not in Plum Harbor. But on a remote island in Maine, I guess you’re hot stuff,” Suzanne teased.
“Well, when you put it that way . . .”
“You know I’m only teasing,” Suzanne countered.
“You’re hot stuff wherever you roam, Maggie,” Dana said, smoothing things over. “I can’t believe we’re finally going away together. How many times did we talk about doing this?”
“There was the house Suzanne found on Plum Island, last summer,” Lucy replied. “But that had all been a ruse.”
“And even more surprises came out of it,” Suzanne reminded her.
“We did go to the Berkshires a few years ago. To that health spa on Crystal Lake, remember? Such a lovely spot,” Dana recalled.
“I remember a murderer on the loose the whole weekend,” Phoebe reminded them. “It’s hard to forget that part.”
“Not the best aspect of the trip.” Lucy leaned towards the window, to avoid Phoebe’s swiftly moving knitting needles. “Despite all the free meals and spa treatments the hotel gave out to distract us.”
“This trip will be totally different,” Suzanne promised. “The island is small, but very lovely and unspoiled. It was built on the grounds of an old estate, high on a bluff overlooking the ocean. The mansion has been completely restored, every cottage has a water view, and the island’s famous cliff walk runs the perimeter of the property. I heard you can walk it in an afternoon. And there’s a village nearby, with a lot of nice shops and restaurants.”
While her friends chatted about the weekend’s agenda, Lucy felt herself begin to doze off. An afternoon nap was a rare treat. A graphic designer who ran her own business from home, she was usually very busy at this time of day, finishing up the last of her work or talking to clients. But pushing to meet a deadline and preparing for this trip had taken its toll. She reminded herself she was on vacation, her bachelorette weekend; a short rest could not hurt.
* * *
The next thing Lucy knew, Suzanne was announcing their arrival at the Spoon Harbor Lobster Pound, in a booming, tour-guide voice. They ordered from a counter inside the huge wooden warehouse and ate on picnic tables. The lobster rolls were scrumptious, the best Lucy had ever had, but there was no time to linger for dessert. They quickly piled back into the car and headed farther north.
A short time later, they cruised through a picturesque village, and then crossed a land bridge to Osprey Island. The narrow, two-lane road had a slim guardrail and a shoulder of jagged, grey boulders on either side, where the ocean waves broke and sprayed.
“I’d hate to drive across this bridge in the fog. You could wind up taking a swim pretty quickly.” Suzanne was driving much slower now, Lucy noticed.
Dana peered out her window. “Maybe they close the bridge in bad weather. The road is so close to the water, I bet it washes out in a storm.”
Lucy didn’t doubt it. The island dwellers were probably often trapped there, especially if they didn’t have a boat.
Lucy was relieved when they finally reached the end of the bridge. Following a sign that pointed towards Osprey Shores, Suzanne turned right. After a short drive on the island’s rustic roads, Lucy saw the entrance and Suzanne steered the SUV through the gates.
“Here we are,” Suzanne said. “With time to spare for sunset cocktails and a light supper before Maggie’s presentation.”
Lucy glanced around as they rolled up to a small, white guardhouse. Suzanne put down her window and spoke to the attendant. “We’re guests of the Cutlers. Suzanne Cavanaugh.” The guard jotted down Suzanne’s name and the license plate number and then waved them through.
They continued down a long tree-lined drive, then followed a deep bend in the road. The view suddenly opened up, and a huge Victorian-era building came into view. It was four stories high, with rows of windows near the roofline and a deep porch with classic columns that wrapped around the entire structure.
“Wow. Is there a hotel here, too? I thought it was all cottages,” Phoebe said.
“That’s Mermaid Manor. It used to be the summer home of a superrich Gilded Age family,” Suzanne explained. “Osprey Shores was built on the family’s estate. The mansion was a falling-down wreck when the developer took it over; they’ve done a great restoration. Now it’s used for meetings and receptions. There’s a fitness center, a little day spa, and a café on the bottom floor, too. That’s where you’ll give the class tonight, Maggie,” Suzanne noted as they swung by.
“I love those old mansions. This place reminds me a lot of Newport,” Dana said.
“It is like Newport. This is the only development on the island so far, but the rest of the shore is lined with estates and huge old mansions like this one. There are still a few fishing shacks clinging to the cliffside, though few working fishermen live here anymore. But, just like in Newport, the cliff walk is accessible to everyone. The monied class didn’t want to deny the fishermen easy access to the waterfront.”
“Very interesting. You know a lot about this place, Suzanne. Did you study up?” Dana asked.
Suzanne laughed. “A real estate sales trick. It helps to create an interesting ambiance if you know a little history about a place, though I will say that this location needs no help from me to sell it.”
A strip of dark blue water was visible behind the mansion, but when they took another turn, they suddenly faced a wide, spectacular view of the ocean. Lush green scenery dipped down a long slope, ending at the legendary cliffs. White cottages were scattered over the hillside, each with a full ocean view; tucked behind shrubbery, an ample distance from their neighbors.
“Wow! What a view! I can see why these cottages are so pricey,” Lucy said.
“They’ve done a fantastic job with the architecture and design. I don’t feel as if I’m in a rabbit hutch of condos. Even a super-fancy rabbit hutch,” Dana said.
“There are very strict building codes here. It’s amazing they were able to build at all. But they did manage to make the cottages look perfectly in keeping with the island.”
“They look as if they’ve been here forever,” Lucy agreed.
Maggie nodded. “Very tasteful. Too bad we don�
�t have time to go out on the cliff walk. Is it lit at night?”
“I’m not sure,” Suzanne replied. “But I have seen pictures close to the edge. Personally, I’d prefer a stroll in broad daylight.”
“I can wait until we can see where we’re going,” Phoebe said quickly.
Lucy was not surprised at Phoebe’s answer. Despite her edgy style and bold talk, she was, deep down, a timid soul. Lucy was surprised at Suzanne’s cautious reply; Suzanne was usually the most daring in their group.
“Here we are, number thirty-two,” Suzanne announced. She slowly steered the SUV up toward their cottage.
A white gravel walkway led to a covered porch that faced the open water and sky. A perfect summer perch for reading or knitting, or just zoning out. The property was landscaped with a lush green lawn, abundant flower beds, and flowering shrubs. Bathed in late-day summer light, it couldn’t have looked more inviting.
They quickly jumped out and grabbed their luggage. Dana led the way to the front door. “I feel like I’m in the English countryside. All we need is a cup of tea and some crumpets.”
“Forgot the crumpets. But I do have some margarita mix and guacamole,” Suzanne offered.
“That will do very nicely,” Dana replied.
Suzanne unlocked the front door, and they followed her into a foyer and then, a large main room. Comfortable-looking sofas and armchairs in neutral tones faced a pair of French doors that framed the ocean view. On the opposite wall, a stone hearth was set with wood for a fire and flanked by tall bookcases.
It did look like a cottage on the English countryside, Lucy thought. Inside and out.
As they followed Suzanne upstairs, Lucy caught sight of a gleaming kitchen with white cupboards and marble countertops. On the second floor, they quickly claimed the bedrooms—two large and one small—deciding that Lucy, the bride-to-be, deserved the single.
“To honor your last nights of singlehood,” Phoebe said, pairing off with Maggie, while Dana shared with Suzanne.
Lucy peeked into the large bathroom that adjoined her bedroom, complete with a marble sunken tub and noted another weekend goal: a bubble bath with a good book and maybe a glass of wine. When was the last time she’d enjoyed that indulgence? She made a mental note to add it to the list.
The list idea wasn’t so bad. She’d have to tell Phoebe she was getting into it.
By the time Lucy had unpacked and freshened up, her friends were gathered on the front porch, sipping cocktails and watching the orange sun slip toward the dark blue sea. The clouds on the horizon were tinged with rose, gold, and even violet. Suzanne’s famous margaritas, alongside a platter of guacamole and chips, were set on a side table.
“All the comforts of home,” Lucy said as Suzanne handed her a glass.
“Very true. And I already know how strong Suzanne mixes these drinks,” Maggie replied. “I’m not sure I should have one of these. I might flub my presentation.”
Phoebe was perched on a porch swing. “You have to toast the bride and kick off the vacation.”
“Yes, of course. I didn’t mean to be a dud. Who’s going to say a few words?” Maggie gazed around at their circle.
“I’ll start, even though I’m the bride in question.” Lucy raised her glass. “To the best friends a girl ever had, who stick together through thick and thin. Thank you for all the laughs, loyalty, and love we share. And for taking me to this beautiful spot. I know we’ll make a lot of happy memories this weekend. Then again, we don’t have to travel far to do that. I cherish the time we spend together, near or far. And always will. Married or not,” she added.
“Aww, Lucy. That’s so sweet.” Phoebe seemed genuinely teary eyed as they clinked their glasses together.
“A beautiful toast, Lucy. Thank you,” Dana added.
Suzanne nodded as she touched her glass to Lucy’s. “Personally, I’d rather you cherish us married. I can’t wait to see you and Matt walk down the aisle. Here’s to a great weekend with my BFFs. Bottoms up.”
“And the dogs,” Phoebe added. “You can’t forget Tink and Wally, the canine attendants.”
Lucy would have liked to have asked all of her friends to be bridesmaids, but she and Matt had decided to keep the bridal party to a minimum. Just her sister as maid of honor and Matt’s brother as best man.
But they couldn’t leave out their beloved canines, especially since Lucy’s dog Tink, a scruffy, mostly Golden Retriever, had introduced them. More or less. Matt’s dog Wally, a chocolate Lab, had been a stray, hit by a car and brought to Matt’s veterinary clinic by a good Samaritan. When Wally, who had lost a leg, was not claimed, Matt could have turned him over to a shelter, but took him home instead.
The dogs were best friends but not the best trained pets Lucy had ever seen. The rambunctious pair might ruin the ceremony. But even that worry was not reason enough to leave them out.
Suzanne’s phone buzzed with a text message. “Amy thinks we should meet at the mansion before the group gets there to make sure Maggie has everything she needs. She says her group is quite excited to have a lesson with you.”
Maggie looked surprised and set down her glass. “I’m not really prepared for a big lesson. I hope I don’t disappoint them.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. As always.” Suzanne tossed back the rest of her cocktail and quickly checked her lipstick in a small purse mirror.
“Come on, Mag. Showtime,” Lucy coaxed with a smile.
“Showtime it is.” Maggie went inside to collect her knitting bag and other supplies.
Lucy already had her bag. Despite the warm night air, she felt a sudden chill as they climbed back into Suzanne’s SUV and headed to the mansion.
Lucy stared out the window at the dark lane. The sky was full of stars, but there was only a sliver of moon. The ocean was no longer in view, but she could still hear the waves rushing in and out, crashing on the rocky shore.
The secluded spot Suzanne had found was unquestionably beautiful. Of that, there could be no doubt. And their brief cocktail hour had definitely started the weekend off on a bright note.
Yet, there was something mysterious and even a bit unsettling about the place. Lucy shook off the feeling and focused instead on her friends’ cheerful banter and all the fun they would have in the days ahead.
They approached the mansion, and Suzanne parked in the large drive that circled a stone fountain. The building was even more spectacular and imposing close up, and Lucy hoped to hear some history about it and the family who had lived there.
As they headed to the front steps that led to the porch, Lucy took a moment to study the fountain. A stone mermaid held a large shell. A stream of water gently splashed down into the pool below. Lights from the building and from beneath the water created a lovely sight.
“It’s hard to believe that people really lived here,” Maggie said quietly. “It was probably just their summer home, besides.”
Suzanne led the way. “I could handle it. Honey, I’m home!” She called before opening the heavy, carved wooden door. Then she turned to her friends, grinning.
Lucy followed her friends, glancing up at an intricate stone carving over the doorway—more mermaids, frolicking in sea foam. Or doing whatever it is that mermaids do.
The motif was repeated on the high-domed ceiling of the entryway, painted as carefully as an Italian fresco. The tile floor was black and white, the walls pale blue with gold molding framing the ornate ceiling.
They faced a curved staircase that led up to the next floor. Large rooms with paneled, pocket doors were on either side of the foyer. To the left of the entrance, a young man stood behind a wooden desk. He looked like a cross between a hotel concierge and a security guard, Lucy thought.
A dark blue blazer with an Osprey Shores patch on the chest pocket and an assertive, questioning smile confirmed those dual roles.
“Good evening, ladies. May I help you?”
“We’re friends of Mrs. Cutler,” Suzanne said. “We’re meeting her
here.”
Before Suzanne could say more, Amy appeared, entering from a passageway just left of the stairway.
As she and Suzanne shared a happy reunion hug, Lucy noticed the two former college roommates were just about opposite in looks. Amy was petite, with pale blond hair, cut in a short, boyish style with a swoop of long bangs. She wore a cotton sundress with a floral pattern, and a pale pink cardigan slung over her shoulders.
“These are my friends from Massachusetts, Justin. I’ve been expecting them.”
“Of course, Mrs. Cutler.” Justin’s watchdog impulse was quickly curbed. He looked down again at his computer.
Suzanne introduced her friends, and Amy greeted them warmly, looking sincerely happy about their visit.
“I hope you had an easy drive. Did you have a chance to stop for dinner? I can order something for you.”
“We had a feast at the Spoon Harbor Lobster Pound,” Dana reported. “I won’t eat for a week.”
Amy smiled. “You can’t come all this way and miss that place.”
“Not with Suzanne driving,” Lucy said.
“We have some coffee and cake set up for the meeting, if you have any room for dessert. Everything is ready for you, Maggie, but we can arrange the room however you’re most comfortable. Just follow me.”
The knitting friends trailed after Amy, who led them through long hallways lined with antique chests, sculptures, and oil paintings.
“All of the additions and updates to the building are on the lower level—the day spa, café, and fitness center,” Amy explained. “I’m going to a yoga class tomorrow morning if anyone wants to join me. It’s very laid back and relaxed. You don’t need to be a big yoga fan to enjoy it.”
“That sounds perfect to me,” Dana said. “I’d love to get some kinks out.”
“You definitely will. The teacher, Meredith Quinn, is wonderful. She’s in the knitting group, too. You’ll meet her tonight.”
They turned and walked down another lavishly decorated hallway. Lucy gazed around, wishing there was time to stop and appreciate some of the artwork. “The mansion is spectacular. Suzanne said it had to be restored?”
