“Another?” Bruce asked, and it took Abigail a moment to realize he was asking her about her drink, empty now.
“Another drink, yes. Another Manhattan, no, if you want me to make it to the dinner table. Glass of wine?”
Carl was putting two martinis onto a tray for a server, who then carried them toward the fireplace. Abigail wondered if it was really necessary for there to be a server when there was a bartender already in the hall. But maybe the Quoddy Resort was sometimes busier than it was now. She could only count about ten people, not including them, in the lodge.
After they got their drinks, a glass of Malbec for Abigail and an IPA for Bruce, they wandered the lodge, looking at some of the wall hangings and artwork. One whole wall was composed of framed engravings, mostly images from fairy tales. A girl pushed an old woman into an oven. There was a knight fighting a hairy, naked beast in a forest. Several included wolves; the largest engraving showed what looked like a Roman god turning a man into a wolf, his head transformed, his body still a man’s, wrapped in a toga. The most recognizable showed Little Red Riding Hood meeting the wolf in the forest.
“‘The woods are lovely, dark and deep,’” Abigail said aloud.
Bruce looked confused.
“Sorry, I’m quoting Robert Frost.”
They moved to a wall that showcased photographs from the original camp, all black-and-white, groups of grim-faced boys posing in front of their bunks. “I think it was only an active camp from the 1930s to the 1960s. It was pretty run-down when Chip bought it.”
“All boys?” she asked.
“This camp, yes. The one on the other side was the girls’ camp.
They’d do social events, I’m sure, together. Dances.”
“Panty raids.”
“Probably.”
At the fireplace she and Bruce introduced themselves to a few of the other guests. It was mostly men but there was one other young couple, Alec and Jill, each holding a glass of champagne, a raspberry at the bottom of their tulip glasses. Bruce and Alec quickly started their own conversation, as Jill said to Abigail, “We got married last weekend, then stayed a few nights in Bar Harbor, and now we’ve been here for three days. It’s unbelievable, this place. Wait till you try the food.”
“It better be amazing or I’m going to be annoyed. Everyone keeps telling me about it.”
“Oh no. I hope I haven’t overhyped it.” Jill, who was model-gorgeous with natural blond hair but with a sliver of a nose that must have been surgically altered, looked genuinely worried.
Abigail said, “I’m just kidding. I’m easily impressed by food, trust me. If it was pizza night I’d be thrilled.”
Jill looked relieved, and Abigail asked her where she was from, not surprised to hear that she was from North Dakota. It wasn’t just the wide eyes and the politeness, but some of the flat accent was still audible. It turned out she’d lived for five years in Los Angeles, trying to break into acting—“It’s so much harder than you’d think”—and then she’d met Alec, a film producer who’d made several action films that had all done well overseas. She mentioned one film in particular, a mountain-climbing thriller that had just debuted on Netflix, but Abigail hadn’t heard of it.
“How are you doing with the no-screens policy?” Abigail asked.
“Oh my God. I was dying for a little while, but I’m better now. I can’t tell you how many times a day I think about checking my phone.”
“I think I’m actually looking forward to it. Not having a phone.”
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s great. Honestly, I feel like I’ve lived more in the last few days than in the last couple of years. I’ve been swimming every day. I painted a picture this morning. Alec and I are … so connected. It’s been amazing.” She spoke rapidly and her voice was pitched unnaturally high, and Abigail wondered if this was how she always spoke, or if she was having less fun on her honeymoon than she claimed.
“How long are you here for?”
“Five more days. I’m thinking of trying sailing even though I’m kind of terrified of deep water. It just seems that if I’m ever going to get over my fear, right now is the time, do you know what I mean?”
“I do,” Abigail said. “You’ve been busy. What’s Alec been doing?”
“He’s been here before, a few times, so he’s just really into relaxing. He likes to hike in the woods, and then he’s been reading. They’re all books he’s thinking about optioning for film, of course, but he claims that it’s not really work.”