“I can give you a contract for future publication though. I really want this for New England Press. I think it’s perfect.”
“You’re not worried the story might be too sad?”
“Are you kidding? Some of the most famous stories in the world are tragedies. Romeo & Juliet ring any bells?”
“I know, but these were real people.”
“That makes it even more important to tell their story. And I think readers will be totally drawn into it. Doomed young lovers, an immigrant falsely accused of a crime he didn’t commit… I think people will like the idea of his name being cleared after all these years. Americans love to see a wrong righted or justice served. And we know how many Americans count the Irish immigrants among their ancestors. They’d love the idea of the truth about Mr. Casey finally being told.”
Stephanie finished her tea and took a last bite of her English muffin.
“Hannah, listen to me,” she said. “I think this has all the ingredients of a big seller. And if I’m being honest, I think it’s a chance to get New England Press on the map.”
Hannah blushed. “I’m thrilled you have so much confidence in my story. I hope it’s justified.”
“It will be. Listen, I’ll send you a copy of the contract so you can go over it. But please, don’t waste any time getting started on the book.”
“I definitely won’t. I’ve been dying to write it anyway.”
Stephanie reached across the table and extended her hand to Hannah. “We’ve got a deal then, partner. I can’t wait to read that book.”
****
Nine Months Later
Hannah gently moved Tim’s arm from across her shoulders and slipped out of bed, trying her best not to wake him. She knew she should be sleeping herself, but she couldn’t stop thinking about her book. After countless rewrites, she had finished the manuscript and was now waiting on the final proof from Stephanie so she could review her work before it officially went to press.
Hannah put on her terry-cloth robe, took her laptop from her desk, and walked to the living room, where she could work without disturbing Tim’s sleep. She plopped down on Tim’s camel-colored leather sofa and grabbed her lap desk from the coffee table. Covering herself with Tim's beloved Cincinnati Reds throw, she stretched out her legs on the sofa, put the desk and laptop on her lap, and booted up her computer. Tim’s dogs Lucy and Harris got up from their respective beds and came to greet her. She petted their heads and encouraged both of them to jump up on the couch with her. They could all be bad together while Daddy was sleeping.
With Harris' head on her lapand Lucy curled up at her feet, Hannah held her breath while she logged in to her email and waited for new messages to load. To her disappointment, she had nothing new but a spam message inviting her to try a new diet supplement and lose 50 pounds. Hannah knew she shouldn’t have had her hopes up that there would be a message waiting for her from Stephanie, as she had just checked her mail a few hours ago before she and Tim had gone to bed. But she knew Stephanie liked to work late, and she had hoped that perhaps she would have surprised her with a response.
Feeling restless, Hannah still didn’t want to go back to bed as she knew she’d never be able to fall asleep. She decided to work out some details for her upcoming trip to the Vineyard with Tim. Now that her work was completed, she wanted to bring Tim to the island for a reason beyond digging up an old skeleton. She wanted to show him her grandparents’ cottage and all of her favorite spots. As her mother had done with her father, Hannah wanted to show Tim the island she loved.
She brought up the Martha’s Vineyard website in her browser and couldn’t resist clicking on the Aquinnah webcams. She looked at the camera overlooking the beach first, although she didn’t really expect to see anything since it was nearly midnight. To her surprise, the full moon shone brightly over the water and combined with the stars in the clear sky to give her enough light to see the waves lapping against the shore.
As always, Hannah was struck by the timelessness of the ocean. She felt a stab in her heart as she looked at the same waves that Stella had walked into to her death. The same waves that Christopher’s body had been so carelessly thrown into. And the same water where Christopher had clung to the rigging of the sinking City of Columbus. She wondered how many other countless lives had come and gone in the years since these waves had first started licking the shores of the island.
Hannah switched to the lighthouse camera and smiled at the bright beacon that never failed to shine at the camera every ten seconds. The bushes around the steps that blew in the night breeze were the only signs of life on the camera.
Hannah hadn’t expected anything different, but she realized as she clicked on the camera’s page that she was hoping to see Stella return to the overlook steps and make contact with her. She wanted to see her again, even if it was only one more time. She wanted to let her know that her story was going to be told.
But as Hannah stared at the landscape surrounding the lighthouse, no one appeared. Hannah let out a breath and nuzzled the ears of the dog in her lap. She couldn’t explain it, but she somehow knew that she had seen Stella for the last time. The tiny woman in the long white dress and dark blue cape wasn’t going to appear to her again. Hannah wished she’d been able to say goodbye.
Hannah stared at the scene on the webcam until she nearly fell into a trance. She jumped when she heard the beeping sound that indicated she had a new message in her email inbox.
She looked at Harris, who had also jumped at the sound and now stared at her expectantly.
“Do you think it’s from Stephanie, Harris?” she asked.
The dog licked her hand in response.
“I think it is too,” she said, giving his ears another scratch.
Hannah held her breath as she closed out of the webcam and brought up her email. She nearly squealed in excitement when she saw the new message was indeed from Stephanie. Obviously the publisher’s habit of working late had not changed.
She opened the email and had to suppress a squeal again when she saw the final proof of her manuscript attached to a quick note from Stephanie.
“It’s the manuscript, Harris,” she whispered. “I think it’s finished.”
Hannah knew she’d never go to sleep now. She downloaded the attachment to her laptop, and her face broke into a smile as she opened the document and saw the title page.
“The Ghosts of Aquinnah: The Story of Stella Winslow and Christopher Casey”
Hannah settled back into the couch cushions and began to read.
****
Stella stood in the trees and watched a woman and a young boy sitting at the picnic table across the driveway from the stairs leading up to the overlook. The woman looked to be about thirty, and she wore her long blonde hair piled in a bun on top of her head. The boy, who was clearly her son, was no more than five and had blonde hair and blue eyes to match his mother’s. The woman had bought cookies and hot chocolate for herself and the child as they had watched the sun set over the water. Now, she helped her son button up his jacket against the night breeze as he finished his drink.
The boy downed the last of his hot chocolate and hopped off the bench to throw his Styrofoam cup into a nearby wastebasket. His mother rose from the bench as well and grabbed the child’s hand in her own. Stella could hear the boy laughing at something his mother had said to him. The woman turned towards the ocean as if to take one last look at the waves breaking against the shoreline, and then hurried to her waiting car with her son skipping along beside her. The woman turned on her car and backed out of her parking space, stopping one last time to look down at the sea below.
Stella watched the lights of the car disappear as the woman and her child drove around the circular parking lot and headed back towards Chilmark and the rest of the island. As the lights faded away, Stella came out from among the trees. There were no more tourists left tonight. Stella was alone. She walked over to the table and ran her hand along where the boy and
his mother had been seated. Not for the first time, she wondered what if would have been like to be a mother herself.
Pulling her blue cape closer to her chest, Stella scolded herself for such nonsensical thinking after all this time. Her inability to be a mother while she had lived was the last thing she needed to worry about now. And it was such a long time ago, anyway.
Stella didn’t need to worry about motherhood or any such issues now. She finally had what she wanted. When she’d stood at the shoreline and watched the waves before walking into the sea to her death, she’d promised Christopher that somehow, someday, she would clear his name. She’d find a way to make sure that the world knew that the kind and gentle young man she’d known and loved was not a murderer. Now, after all these years, she could finally say she’d kept her promise.
Stella couldn’t say for sure what had drawn her to the lonely woman who looked at the webcam so frequently. She’d watched Hannah Forrester for quite some time before making the decision to reveal herself to her. Stella had felt pity for the woman, and a connection to her that somehow crossed time. To Stella, the pretty woman who stared at the webcam seemed lost and alone in spite of the fact that she lived in a city overflowing with people. The very city Stella had longed to visit while she lived.
The more Stella watched Hannah Forrester, the more she felt that the woman was hoping to find someone or something she’d lost each time she stared at the cliffs and the sea below them. Stella knew all about that hope.
She’d taken a chance and connected with the woman, letting her understand who and what she was. And leading her in the only way she knew how to the story of the young man she’d loved and failed so horribly. To Stella’s immense relief, her decision had paid off.
Now, Stella’s debt was paid and there was no longer any need for her to remain on this island, trapped somewhere between the living and the dead. Perhaps now she could finally see her Christopher again. She turned and glanced back at the lighthouse, remembering the day she had watched Mr. Mayhew clean the windows before she had walked to her death. So many years had passed between that day and now. So many waves had crashed into the shoreline, dragging sand and shells back with them into the sea.
Stella was tired now, and ready to be done. She stared out at the ocean and listened to the lapping of the waves, wondering once again whether Christopher was somewhere out there, waiting for her. She hoped now she’d have a chance to find out.
Stella pulled her cape tightly to her and walked towards the cliffs and the sea. As the lighthouse beacon rotated and shone its red light over the cliffs, Stella disappeared into the mist.
The rotating light shone white. By the time the red light flashed again, the cliffs were empty. No one was there.
The Ghosts of Aquinnah Page 21