“Where’s Leigh,” said Agnes.
“She sent me a text today,” I said. “She’s in New York. She’s going to stay there a while and finish the work Solder was starting at the Metropolitan Museum. She really did love him.”
“Poor girl,” said Agnes.
“So, back to this house,” said Chris.
“What about it?” I said.
“You’re in love with it,” he said with a laugh.
“I really am,” I said.
“Maybe it’s time to get yourself a real home, Stella,” said Emily. “What have you got to lose? If you wait, someone like Shelly will come along and snatch it up. She’s had her eye on the place, right?”
“Only because she thought it was filled with treasure,” I said.
“I think this place is a real treasure,” said Chris. “I could help you make a lot of improvements.”
Could I buy a house?
“Hi, gorgeous,” said Peter. “Can I talk to you?”
“I’m all yours and in sequins,” I said.
“You’re killing me,” he said, pulling me close to him and taking me to the side of the lawn.
“What would be the three adjectives you would use to describe this house?” I said. “Outside of being the best Halloween Haunt.”
“One: creaky,” he said. “Two: moldy? Three: creaky. Why?”
“No reason,” I said. “What’s up?”
“I need your permission to do something,” he said.
“Should I get a drink?”
He handed me one.
“Oh, boy,” I said. “Does this have to do with why you were so happy the other day?”
Peter’s hair fell in front of his eyes, He smiled and looked at the ground.
“The thing is, I have an opportunity to work on a story for a new magazine,” he said. “Long format. Investigative.”
“Sounds like your dream job,” I said, cautiously.
“It’s short term. Not a forever thing. They’ve been calling me for a couple of weeks,” he said. “At first I said no. Then they convinced me to at least send them my résumé.”
“I guess I’ve been wondering what you’re up to lately,” I said. “I knew that something had caught your attention. It’s not every day that you are too busy to follow a murder investigation.”
“When it comes to murder,” he said, “you’ve spoiled me. I know I can wait for you to figure it out and hand me the story.”
“For future reference,” I said, “it’s much more fun to figure it out together.”
“You know I would have,” he said, “but I was brushing up my résumé this time around. The thing is, if I take the job, I’ll be in Iceland for two months.”
“Iceland,” I said, sipping my drink. Gulping it, to be honest. I had not expected Iceland.
“But I’ll only go if it’s OK with you,” he said.
“Of course, it’s OK with me,” I said. “This is your dream. We’ll make it work.”
“I’m sorry to bring it up here,” he said, “but they called today and said I need to get back to them tonight. They found someone else to hire if I wasn’t going to take the job.”
“You’ve got to go,” I said.
“I’m glad you said that and, no pressure, but I was wondering,” he said. “Do you want to come?”
A laugh that sounded like a firecracker shot out of me.
“I’d love to,” I said. “Who wouldn’t? It’s Iceland for two months. That’s a once in a lifetime thing, right?”
“Yes!” he said, hugging me tightly, my feet rising off the ground.
As he did, I looked at everyone gathered at the party. I was shocked by the overwhelming feeling that took hold of me, but I couldn’t fight it. When Peter put me down, I knew completely that I couldn’t in good faith go with him. As much as I loved him, I wasn’t ready to chuck my store and my life for him.
“Oh boy,” I said.
“What?”
“If I don’t go with you, is it over between us?” I said, shutting my eyes tightly.
“Are you crazy?” he said. “Well, yes, you are. But in a good way. What I mean is, I’ll be back if you don’t want to come. I don’t want to force you into anything.”
“Then,” I said, still surprised by my words but sure they were the right ones. “I’m going to sit this one out.”
“I’ll bring you fermented shark and sheep’s head and all the delicacies Iceland has to offer,” he said. “Thank you, thank you, for supporting me.”
“Same to you,” I said. “Can you excuse me?”
I walked around the corner of the house and made my own phone call.
“John Pierre?” I said. “Do you have any interest in selling the house?”
“More than you could ever imagine,” he said.
“Let’s talk tomorrow.”
I hung up and sat on the stoop of what might soon be my kitchen stairs. Looking up at the sky, I imagined the clouds that would roll by me from my chaise in the days and weeks to come. I decided right then to buy a diary in the morning. I had kept one in college, but since my business had taken off, I’d had no time to keep up with the practice. After a week of living in Patience Cooper’s shoes, I decided to start again. I could see how these private musings and collections of ideas painted stories of individuals and the worlds in which they lived in a way that was unique.
I waved across the lawn to Cherry, Agnes, and Flo, who were wearing matching witch’s hats. To my surprise, Old Holly came up to Agnes and handed her a cupcake he’d purchased from the Girl Scouts’ outdoor snack table.
“You OK?” said Andy, sitting beside me. “I heard about Peter.”
“Think he’ll come back?” I said.
“Sure,” said Andy. “He’s crazy about you.”
He put his arm around my shoulder and gave me a knock on my head.
“What’s not to love?” he said.
Stella’s Favorite Clam Chowder
The secret? Quahog clams which are found along the shores of the Cape and islands!
Try this recipe from
Nantucket Sampler of Recipes from The Homestead
And learn more about the Homestead of Nantucket at www.thehomesteadofnantucket.com/
Ingredients
4–5 thin slices fat salty pork
1 onion
3–4 medium-sized potatoes
1 quart dry quahogs
2 level teaspoons flour
1 quart milk
1 quart water
1 tablespoon butter
Salt and pepper
Directions
Fry pork and remove from kettle.
Fry finely chopped onions and potatoes in the fat until they are golden brown.
Add hot water (1 quart or 3 pints).
Cook 10–15 minutes.
Wash the quahogs, removing the dark part from the stomachs. Chop or grind the quahogs quite fine. Cook with above for 15 minutes. Do not use any quahog water.
Add flour thickening stirred with milk, butter, and seasoning.
This will serve 7 or 8 people.
By Linda Backus
Based on material featured in Nantucket Sampler of Recipes from The Homestead, third revised edition, published by The Homestead of Nantucket, 1992.
From Cherry Waddle’s Diary
Today’s To-Dos . . .
DNA kit. Who am I really related to?
Buy milk, butter, quahogs.
Drop off fresh chowder for Emily. She was looking pale at Halloween Haunts.
Propose fundraiser idea for Offshore Animal Hospital. Flo can help.
Create Instagram post on candle clocks to show off my pumpkin candle.
–too cute
–makes me sound ancient
Why Candle Clocks?
You can read a book by candlelight before bed and not have to worry about a fire later. Set is for an hour and it will go out on its own!
You can impress your friends–even catch a killer! –by h
aving all the lights go out at the same time. Advise making a dramatic announcement right before the candles extinguish.
ADVICE: Don’t use a candle clock if time is of the essence. They should be called candle timers, not clocks. Learnt the hard way and missed Stella’s final class.
And, dear Diary, I’m heading to the opening of Bellows’ exhibit tonight. I’m glad he decided to include so much about Nantucket’s captain’s wives and the amazing lives they led, from staying home and running this island to heading out to sea with their men. Nantucket women made their mark. Brava!
Acknowledgments
I love puzzling out Stella’s mysteries along with her. She is a great character with whom to spend my days. Many thanks, as always, to Christina Hogrebe, Norma Perez-Hernandez, Larissa Ackerman, and Michelle Addo for supporting Stella and the Nantucket Candle Maker Mysteries by making sure that the books find their readers. I am also grateful to Michael Bergmann and Jonathan Putnam, who always, bravely, read my work at early stages and give me the honest truth about what’s working—and what’s not.
For the writing of 15 Minutes of Flame, I would especially like to thank Michael R. Harrison, Obed Macy Director of Research and Collections at the Nantucket Historical Association, who kindly answered so many of the questions I had about a bygone world I was trying to recapture. Nantucket is truly a town of generous neighbors, and I am also grateful to Jeanine Borthwick for introducing me to Kristin Campbell and the Homestead of Nantucket, a unique housing alternative for Nantucket’s seniors. They kindly shared the clam chowder recipe that was originally featured in their very own cookbook.
Like Stella, I couldn’t do anything without my friends and family, so I am sending my everlasting gratitude to them. We had a full house in Nantucket when I was writing 15 Minutes of Flame, and I appreciate everyone’s enthusiastic interest as I developed the story . . . My parents, Rini and Tom Shanahan, are great readers, site scouts, and now salesmen for my book (their friends are the best!). And Steve, Tommy, Carly, and Bandit are the cozy to my mysteries. I love you all so much.
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