Nessa threw herself into redecorating the home her parents had left her, but those efforts only made her feel more cut off from the past. She’d left most of her friends back in the city, and without a job, she had no way to meet new people. Back in her grade-school days, the village just west of Mattauk had still been known as the Oak Bluffs of New York—a vacation haven that had welcomed Black families like Nessa’s for over a century. Most of that formerly vibrant community was now buried beneath condos and hotels. The ladies who lined the pews of the church Nessa attended were in their seventies and eighties. Once they were gone, Mattauk and its surroundings would be Wonder Bread white.
Out on the island without friends or family to anchor her, Nessa felt adrift. Her days were featureless, her destination unknown. She tried therapy until she couldn’t find the energy to drive herself to her appointments. She stopped getting dressed in the morning. She let the sink fill with dishes. When her groceries were delivered, she paid no mind to the handsome deliveryman. Aside from her girls, the only person she spoke to was Jonathan. Finally, she decided she might as well join him. Her girls would always have each other. All she was doing by hanging around was eating through their inheritance.
The night she swallowed too many sleeping pills, her grandmother came to her in a dream. “What the hell are you doing, Nessa? You were chosen for a reason,” the old woman scolded. “You’ve got thirty good years left. You need to stay put and use them. Jonathan will wait for as long as it takes.”
Nessa had woken up at four in the afternoon the next day, her mouth parched and her head pounding. She took her first shower in over a week and never considered suicide again.
Ten minutes after Jo dropped her off, Nessa was out the door once more. She let her feet guide her, and just as they had the day she met Jo, they turned her away from the beach. Nessa had a hunch where they were taking her, but the why was a mystery. She’d always assumed she’d know just what to do when the gift came back. Wisdom and maturity were supposed to go hand in hand. Nessa had turned forty-eight in February, and she still didn’t have a clue.
The homes she walked past were all dark. A dog howled and a second responded. Security lights switched on as she passed and off as soon as she was gone. There were no cars on the road. Nessa knew it was dangerous for a woman to be out so late on her own, but she wasn’t worried. Something had told her to leave her pepper spray and penknife behind. That night, no harm would come her way.
Nessa’s destination appeared on a slight rise ahead of her. The moon hovered just above the jungle that had overtaken the infamous Osborne home. Leaves of every size and description glowed with its silvery light. A dense border of brambles repelled all intruders and shielded the garden from prying eyes. Nessa walked toward the property line and stopped at the thorny barricade. For the life of her, she couldn’t seem to find a way through.
“Hello,” said a woman from somewhere on the other side of the brambles. “Are you here to see me?”
“I think so,” Nessa replied. “Is this a bad time?”
“No, not at all,” the woman assured her, as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Her voice made Nessa think of rich dirt and golden honey. “I’m just doing a bit of gardening.”
“You usually garden this late?” Nessa asked.
“Some plants prefer moonlight. Some people do, too.”
It made perfect sense to her. “My grandmother was like that,” Nessa said. “She never did own a flashlight.” When lightbulbs in her house would burn out, she wouldn’t bother to replace them for weeks at a time.
“And you? You don’t strike me as someone who’s afraid of the dark.” Harriett sounded as if she might be grinning.
“No,” Nessa told her. “Never have been.”
“Nor have I. Would you like me to show you my garden?”
“Yes, please.” Nessa felt a rush of childlike excitement, as though she’d been invited to tour a magical world.