“There.” She pointed to a bank at the top of the hill. I looked at her, confused. “The house is gone. They tried to move it—it was going to be a museum—after Mama and Papa died. Not to them. A town museum. It was such a grand house. But something about the zoning. And the house didn’t survive the move.”
“When was that?”
“Almost forty years ago now.”
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded.
We passed more shops, the street eventually giving way to newer buildings, the ocean still peeking through between the buildings on the right. Quick glances down the steep side streets revealed that the town sat upon a sharp, rocky bluff, dropping away to the docks down on the harbor, which seemed to house a combination of fishing and private boats.
“Have you been fishing?” I couldn’t picture her casting a line, but it seemed to be a thing here.
“Of course, darling, and for more than just compliments.” She smiled at some memory, and I wondered if it was about Tony. She said his family had owned a fishing company.
“What about—？”
“You’re going to miss the turn,” she said. “Bear left up there.”
I glanced at my phone. “Google says to stay on this.”
“The road ends. Go left.”
It didn’t. But I figured if she got us lost, Google could bring us back on track.
I turned left, and the map rerouted, cutting two minutes off the time.
She smirked at me. “Your little apples don’t know everything.”
“Apps.”
“Clearly they don’t know that either.”
I gave up as we wound our way through a newer segment of town, my grandmother scowling at the houses. “This was all empty marshland.”
There was a break of about a half mile where the marshes still made the ground too soft to build before we entered something resembling civilization again. A miniature golf course, three beach supply stores, a Stop & Shop, two wide hotels, and eventually the ocean stretched in front of us. “Left where the road ends,” my grandmother instructed. “Then the next left at the Inn.” She looked around as we drove up a hill. “This used to be all woods.”
The street held a mishmash of houses, some small Cape Cods, a few McMansions, a handful of houses that would have looked at home in a suburban neighborhood, one knockoff Victorian, and finally, at the end of the street, two clapboard structures with wraparound porches.
“This is it,” my grandmother said, pointing to the larger of the two. It was painted red, with six steps leading up to the screened porch.
“You rented a house?”
“It’s one of those Air Bed Bath and Beyond things.”
I raised an eyebrow. “An Airbnb?”
“I suppose.”
“You know how to rent an Airbnb?”
“I do have a phone,” she said sharply, struggling to unbuckle her seatbelt. I leaned over and released it, then got out of the car to help her. Once she was on her feet, she shielded her eyes from the sun, which hung over the roof, and examined the property. “I hate the color that woman painted it.”
“What woman?”
“The owner.”
“Have you stayed here before?”
Her lips twitched into a grin. “Darling, this was our cottage. I spent every summer here.”
My mouth dropped open. I started to say something, but the porch door swung open, startling me.
“That’s the property manager,” my grandma said, raising her hand to wave as the man walked down the steps toward us. “Hello, Joe, darling.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
June 1950
Hereford, Massachusetts
Evelyn always walked down the unnamed road to the junction with Sand Island Lane to meet Tony. Joseph may have given his approval to date, but that didn’t mean Tony could park in front of the cottages, climb the steps, and knock on the door to pick Evelyn up. Which left Tony feeling uneasy, but Evelyn said to trust her. They just needed time.
They both graduated high school at the end of May. Tony joined his father and uncle’s fishing business full-time along with Felipe while Evelyn prepared for college in the fall, and the whole summer stretched before them.
Most nights she climbed into his father’s 1939 Ford Standard, and they drove out to Gloucester or Rockport, where they could walk through town without everyone knowing them, sometimes venturing as far south as Beverly. When they returned, they walked along the beach in the moonlight, setting up camp at the far end on a worn flannel blanket that Tony pulled from the trunk before building a fire. Nights in town were hot, but down on the water, there was frequently a chill in the air.