“Zane! We’re going to be late!” Mila paused in the foyer and investigated herself in the hallway mirror. She’d donned a lacey white summer dress with a high neckline, a light jean jacket, and a pair of summer boots — a killer outfit, absolutely, and probably wasted for the event tonight, which was an Edgartown Beachside Festival, where she, Isabelle, and Zane had agreed to meet the grandparents. Their goal? Some sort of pursuit of a truce. After all, Grandma and Grandpa hadn’t exactly received warm responses from Isabelle and Zane in the wake of that unfortunate dinner.
Mila’s mother had only brought up the idea of paying for Isabelle’s schooling one other time via text. Mila hadn’t even bothered to respond. Her mother and father’s demands were outrageous; she wouldn’t put them on Isabelle’s shoulders. She would take the brunt of them herself.
Isabelle appeared at the front door. She had just loaded up some beach chairs into the back of the car. She glanced rightward toward the hallway and asked, “Is Zane coming?”
“Not sure about that,” Mila said. “He’s trying out what it means to be the woman of the house, apparently.”
“I heard that.” Zane appeared a moment later in a light blue polo shirt and a pair of jeans. He looked clean-cut and somehow older than he had a few hours ago when he’d been stretched out in front of the television watching trash shows.
“What’s the occasion?” Mila asked him.
Zane shrugged. “I’m about to leave for college. I have to leave a good impression on these people. I’ve got to show them what they’re going to miss.”
Isabelle rolled her eyes and said, “In reality, he just broke up with his girlfriend, and he wants to make her jealous.”
“You’re not the only one with a broken heart,” Zane told her. “I’m hurting, too.”
Mila and Isabelle locked eyes as Zane shot down toward the car.
“He doesn’t seem too busted up,” Mila noted.
“No way. They dated for like three minutes. I think he’s going to make it through a full recovery,” Isabelle replied while trying to conceal her smirk.
Mila wrapped an arm around her daughter’s back and held her close as they ambled toward the car. “You’re doing okay, right?” She had noticed that in the previous few days, Isabelle had hardly touched any of the dinners they’d eaten together. Mila prayed that soon, her appetite would return.
“Oh, sure. Me and Harry are seeing each other tomorrow. We’ll try and hash things out one way or another. He’s still a really good friend. I guess that’s what it means to break up after so many years. I can’t imagine what it’s like to divorce someone,” Isabelle said with an ironic smile. “This is bad enough already.”
Mila drove them over to the festival, which was held along Main Street and then drifted off toward the beach. As she got out of the car, she spotted Jennifer’s only a few cars ahead. Her heart panged in her chest; she wanted nothing more than to spend the evening gossiping and running around with her best friends — her chosen family.
“There you are.” Her mother’s voice rang out from behind her. Mila spun around to find Diana, her father, Jamie, along with their granddaughter, Aria, near to a little natural wine stand. Mila lifted a hand and fluttered her fingers.
“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered, mostly to herself.
Isabelle swept up and hugged both of her grandparents nonchalantly. Zane gave a half-hug to his grandfather and kissed his grandmother on the cheek. After that, the six of them stood in an awkward circle for a moment, discussing what they wanted to eat first.
“I think we should go to the little sandwich stand just over there,” Diana finally pointed to her right. “They just have the best roast beef.”
As they walked, Diana sidled up alongside Isabelle. Mila sensed she was about to curl her teeth into her granddaughter, and she braced herself.
“Just another week or so before you’re off to Tufts, huh?”
“That’s right,” Isabelle said.
“And you must be so excited!”
“I guess so. It’s going to be strange to leave the Vineyard.”
“Oh, but your uncle absolutely loved being away,” Diana said. “I know your mother would have loved it, too.”
“Definitely,” Jamie echoed.
Mila stopped short at the back of the sandwich line and glanced toward them, annoyed. She crossed and uncrossed her arms as her mother prodded Isabelle for more information about her class schedule.
“So not even one biology course?” she asked.
“Not this semester,” Isabelle returned.
“Well, do you think you could change it around? I’m sure there’s a bit of wiggle room,” Diana suggested.
“Mom, she’s already booked all the classes she wants,” Mila interjected. “And she’s excited about them. Especially that poetry one. Right, Izzy?”
Isabelle flashed a large smile.
“I just don’t know what a girl does with poetry these days,” Diana said. “Yes, it’s nice to read on the beach and whatnot, but in the real world?”
“Not everyone can be Sylvia Plath,” Jamie added.
“I don’t have any plans of putting my head in any ovens,” Isabelle said.
“Only if there are cookies in there,” Zane said.
Mila laughed outright as Diana and Jamie exchanged worried glances. Obviously, this evening had gotten off on the wrong footing for them, again. Their plan of attack, which was to get Isabelle on the path toward the medical field, had hit another bump.
They grabbed their sandwiches and walked toward the water. An August sunset dimmed across the horizon and cast everything in a boisterous orange light. As they walked, they passed alongside some of Edgartown and Oak Bluffs’ best and brightest — including Susan Sheridan and her new husband, Scott, along with her sisters, Lola Sheridan and Christine Sheridan. Lola’s daughter, Audrey, walked up behind, carrying her baby, Max. She grinned at Mila and said, “Hello! Gosh, you saved me the other day.”
Mila laughed. “I hear that a lot.”
“I bet.” Audrey lowered her voice, then added, “But I think I’m going to have to make another appointment, and soon.”
“That’s kind of how time goes,” Mila affirmed. “Unfortunately.”
When they walked away, Diana piped up. “What was that about, Mila?”
“Oh, nothing,” Mila replied. “Just girl stuff.”
Zane and Jamie had carried the beach chairs along from their cars — three for Mila’s family and three for Diana, Jamie and Aria. They set them up about ten feet from the flickering bonfire, which steamed with heat. Mila tore into her sourdough and roast beef sandwich and leaned her head back the slightest bit. There was a glorious breeze off the bay; she could almost pretend the beautiful night was without heartache.
But still, her parents wanted to dig their heels in.
“You know, Isabelle, you really should let us help you with stuff like schedules,” Diana continued. “After all, your mother never went to college and it’s good to have an eye for this stuff. It can get tricky. All those choices...”
“Just because Mom didn’t go to college doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to read a pamphlet of course options,” Isabelle pointed out. She held her grandmother’s eye, not wavering for a second.
“That’s true. I taught her how to read myself,” Zane boasted proudly, just before he took a huge bite.
“Of course, your mother knows how to read,” Jamie said. “It’s just that there are elements of this university life that we want to make sure you don’t miss.”
“I don’t plan on missing anything, thanks,” Isabelle snapped coldly. She’d begun to unwrap her sandwich but then wrapped it up again. “And actually—”
Mila lifted herself upright in her chair and glared at her daughter. It wasn’t time for arguing. These words were generally harmless; her grandparents just wanted what they had deemed best for her.
But at that moment, the sea breeze that Mila had only just enj
oyed burst across the shoreline. The wind and sands erupted from the ground and rushed into the fire, making it grow monstrous. It licked at the pile of untouched wood off to the side and suddenly, that wood caught flame, too. The fire grew twice the size of itself in two seconds flat and the Ellis family realized just how close they were to it, now that it was fit for a giant.
Mila reached for Isabelle’s hand and yanked her away hurriedly. Several cops rushed over to the scene and drew people away from the flames. There was a siren — but there were too many people for any sort of firetruck to come through safely.
“Oh my God!” Diana cried as they drew further away.
They hustled further back. As they rushed, the fire began to lick at one of their beach chairs; soon, it would be only cinders. Isabelle’s eyes filled with tears, but she did not let them fall.
“It’s going to be okay,” Mila said to her children (and to herself).
At that moment, Liam Caldwell slipped out from the crowd and rushed toward them. His eyes locked on Mila’s. Mila felt this strange moment of safety. She lifted a hand in greeting as he said something she couldn’t understand into his walkie-talkie. Suddenly, a large parabola of water came out across the sands and dunked against the bonfire.
“You folks okay?” Liam asked as steam rushed across the shoreline.
“We’re fine, thank you,” Mila told him. She let out a slight laugh and added, “Seems like everyone is.”
“I’ve never seen a fire get out of hand like that,” Diana said off to the left. “Officer, you should really make sure fires are built more responsibly on this beach.”
Liam hardly glanced her way. His eyes remained forever toward Mila’s. Mila’s heart raced strangely. Was it the adrenaline from the sudden danger? Or was it something else?
“We’ll get this cleaned up. In the meantime, I think the music tent is about to get started,” Liam said. “It’s probably much safer there, I bet.”
Mila nodded. “We’ll take our party over there.”
“Cool. Maybe I’ll see you.”
“Yes. Sure.” Mila tried on a smile but felt as though it didn’t fit her face.
Liam rushed off after that. Mila turned to find her mother’s face; it was drained of color, and her eyes caught the last of the dying flames. She looked totally void of happiness.
“What was that, Mila?” she demanded.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what were you doing flirting with that cop?”
Mila’s jaw dropped. Isabelle and Zane sauntered on ahead and joined Jamie and Aria. Zane’s back was flecked with ash from the bonfire.
“I wasn’t flirting with him. We’re just friends,” Mila replied, not allowing her annoyance to ring through.
“You were flirting. I know what flirting is. I may be old, but I’m not stupid.”
“Mom, nobody said you were stupid. Or old.”
“You were flirting with him.”
“Yeah? And so what? Why is it such a bad thing?” Mila demanded, looking at her mother squarely in the face.
Her mother lowered her voice just the slightest bit. “You’re an Ellis, Mila. I know it’s difficult for you, but you have to uphold some sort of decency about our family name.”
Mila arched an eyebrow. This seemed a similar conversation to the “I can’t believe you opened a salon” conversation or the “are you really going to marry someone twenty years older than you?” conversation. No matter what, her mother didn’t approve of what she did.
And she was growing tired of it. She was done.
“I have to get home, I think,” Mila said then. “I hope you have a wonderful evening, Mother.” She then headed off toward the boardwalk. When she reached it, she heard her son and daughter’s footsteps racing up behind her. They laced their arms through Mila’s and walked her toward the car.
“I can’t believe that woman raised you,” Isabelle said ominously.
“We got lucky with you as our mom,” Zane agreed.
Mila buzzed her lips. “She means well and she is your grandmother.”
“Yeah, well, Mussolini meant well, too,” Zane quipped.
“Zane!” Mila cried, but she could contain her smile as it grew wider. “Why didn’t you come up with such an advanced and educated insult in front of them? They think we’re all idiots.”
Zane shrugged as he laughed. “I’m not stupid. I just pretend to be because it makes girls like me more.”
“Oh, my gosh...” Isabelle scoffed as she rolled her eyes.
“I think tonight calls for milkshakes,” Mila suggested. “And you know, I’m going to miss you two so much that it breaks my heart!”
Chapter Nineteen
The following morning, Mila found Isabelle in a heap on her floor. Around her, she had stationed three suitcases, piles of sweaters, jeans, scarves, camisoles, bras, and underwear. Her cheeks were flushed crimson with panic.
“You know, Tufts isn’t that far away,” Mila said from the doorway. “I can always bring you anything you think you might need. It’s a good excuse for me to visit, anyway. I can call it a mini-vacation.”
Isabelle scrunched her nose. “It’s stupid, isn’t it? To want to make a good first impression. I just feel so crazy. What kind of girl do I want to be at Tufts? I don’t want to be just everyday, ordinary Isabelle. I want to be someone better.”
“But I like everyday, ordinary Isabelle,” Mila pointed out. “What’s wrong with her?”
Zane whipped down the hallway with a basketball. Mila turned and hollered, “Don’t run in the house!” Zane responded by turning around and twirling the basketball on his finger. Mila cackled loudly. Her heart felt so full.
“I’m just going to play a pickup game down the road,” Zane said. “But I’ll see you girls soon. Don’t miss me too much.”
“We’ll try not to,” Mila replied with a smile.
After Zane rushed out the door, Isabelle asked, “Have Grandma or Grandpa contacted you about last night yet?”
Mila shook her head. “I don’t know if they will. You know how they are, sweetie.”
“Grandma just texted to ask what time we were heading off for Tufts,” Isabelle said. “I guess I’ll just tell her. Maybe she wants to have dinner the night before or something.”
“Maybe.” Mila felt doubtful. If anything, they wanted as much information as they could so that they could call up the Dean of Admissions or something and force Isabelle down the path of greatness.
“What are you doing tonight?” Isabelle asked then.
“I don’t know. I’ll probably just be hanging out here. What about you? Will you be around?”
“Nope. I have that chat with Harry,” Isabelle said. “Looking forward to it.” She rolled her eyes ominously.
“Another night home alone, I guess,” Mila said. “I’d better get used to it.”
Back in the kitchen, Mila checked the cabinets for snacks. There were some stale crackers, half a jar of peanut butter, and some mixed nuts. Mila swatted the cabinets closed again and grumbled inwardly.
This wasn’t the kind of life she wanted to live.
She thought back to Graham, that weird stalker from the app. How had he seen her life again? He’d seen it as utterly magic, the kind of life he’d wanted to slip into, unannounced, as though he had belonged there all along.
If she was the writer in this situation, how would she want to live? How would her character act?
How would Peter want to write her, had he still been alive?
She glanced skyward and thought that again. She half-imagined him poised at the computer, with his glasses at the tip of his nose. She imagined his eyes upon her as that brain of his whirled around with thoughts of what might be.
“What should I do, Peter?” she breathed. “What’s next for the story of Mila Ellis?”
Mila thought again of the police officer, Liam — of the way he’d looked at her the previous night, as though he had only really cared about her safety and not th
e safety of anyone else at the beach. (Of course, that was all in her head.)
Plus, there was the benefit that her mother did not approve of him.
Mila only half-realized what she’d done by the time she had done it. She lifted her phone from the counter and dialed the police station. The secretary answered, then immediately put her through to Liam’s office. Liam’s voice shifted from one of business-like propriety to one of complete surprise and, dare she say it, joy.
“Mila! To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Mila stuttered slightly as she answered. “I was wondering if I could ask you something.”
“Of course. Is it about that date of yours? If so, I’ll have more information later in the week. They took him up to Boston.”
“Oh. Yes. I mean, I would like to know about that when you do, sure. But more than that, I was curious if — well.”
“What?”
“If you’d like to meet me for a drink? Tonight?”
WHEN MILA SPOTTED LIAM at the beach bar just outside of Edgartown, she realized she had never seen him outside of his police uniform. He looked so casual in a pair of slacks and a nice button-up shirt. She noted that he’d also clearly styled his hair with a bit of gel; it looked really nice. He toyed with the edge of a napkin, then told the waiter he wasn’t ready yet. He was waiting for her — a direct contrast to Graham and that arrogant doctor. And, if she had to admit it, Peter, too, hadn’t always waited for her.
Peter had his flaws, like many men. It was just sometimes difficult for her to remember them, now that he lived only in her memories.
When she reached the table, Liam stood up a bit too quickly so that his chair fell back behind him. He reached a hand out and beamed as she shook it.
“Oh. Maybe a handshake wasn’t actually appropriate?” he said. “I hope you’ll forgive me. I’m a little out of practice.”
Mila laughed as she sat across from him. “Don’t worry. I’m out of practice, too.”
“Now, I know that’s not true,” Liam said.
Mila shrugged. “Just a few dates here and there. One with a stalker, so I certainly can’t say my track record is all that great.”
4152 Witchwood Lane Page 12