“She’s closer to me in age than you,” Chelsea remarked in a disgusted tone.
Olivia wasn’t sure what to respond with. She flipped through her letters, which were mostly bills, a late Christmas card from the west coast — until she found a thick envelope that seemed overly important. She ripped it open immediately. She knew better than to wait on the things that scared her.
Olivia Hesson,
We are writing to inform you that we, the law offices of Braxton and Hux, are looking into the legalities of the will of Marcia Hesson Sonders. It’s become increasingly clear to those involved that the will was written up when Marcia’s quality of mind was lackluster at best and it’s essential that we prove that your ownership over the property located along the Nantucket Sound is completely within the bounds of legality.
Await our correspondence,
The Law Offices of Braxton and Hux
In Representation of Marnie Sonders
“That son of a...” Olivia muttered to herself.
Chelsea looked up at her. “What wrong, Mom?”
Olivia folded up the paper as her hands shook. Obviously, Marcia’s grandchildren had decided to take legal action against her ownership of the old house. It really couldn’t have come at a worse time, either. Every day, her heart brewed with more and more excitement over the place. With every nail she’d yanked out of the floorboards and every new addition Anthony put on, she felt the image of the place unfurl in her mind. She could almost visualize herself behind the counter in the summer season, saying something like, “Welcome to Martha’s Vineyard. Please, enjoy a glass of champagne on the house while you get settled into your room.”
Yes. The kind of woman who could just offer champagne on the house whenever she wanted to.
She would still keep her teaching job, obviously, but only because she loved it with her entire heart.
But now, there was an enormous obstacle standing before her. Something legal and incomprehensible.
She shook as she reached for her phone to call Amelia. In her experience, Amelia always knew what to do. She had to lean on her.
“Hey, doll!” Amelia said. She sounded frazzled yet excited. “How are you? I heard about poor Chelsea from Camilla. Is she feeling all right?”
Olivia turned away from her daughter, knowing that Chelsea wouldn’t take kindly to being spoken about just a few feet away. “Yes. Just great,” she offered. “But I wanted to talk to you about something kind of important.”
There was a deep voice in the background of the call. Amelia answered and then pressed her hand against the speaker to ensure that Olivia couldn’t hear. A few seconds later, she returned to say, “Sorry about that. What’s up?”
“Well, I’ve received this letter from a lawyer about the legality of Marcia’s will,” Olivia continued. “I was wondering if maybe you could look it over?”
Amelia paused for a second. Again, she answered someone in the background. Olivia marveled that she could juggle so many things at once. Her life would have made Olivia’s head explode.
“Hmm. That sounds weird, or like they’re trying to play some kind of silly game with you,” Amelia suggested. “Why don’t you take a picture of it and send it over?”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to mess up your day.”
“Don’t worry about it. I have a stack of papers on my desk the size of Montana. What’s one more paper?” Amelia quipped.
Olivia hung up and did as she was told. As she waited for Amelia’s response, Anthony texted her. His words were from another world, one in which Olivia was still allowed to be endlessly excited about the mansion and the boutique hotel, without worrying about the legality of anything.
ANTHONY: Hey! I need more supplies. Want to make a run to the hardware store?
As Olivia pondered what to do next, Amelia texted her as well.
AMELIA: I don’t think they have a case. This is all fluff to me. You might have to go to court if they push it, but I think they’re just trying to frighten you. Obviously, it’s worked, huh? Boy, I hate people like this.
Olivia re-read both messages as Chelsea flicked around to different channels. Both filled her with promise and hope.
First, she texted Amelia back: Good to know. Let me know what I should do next.
And then, she texted Anthony: Sure, I’d love to. I’ll head to the house in a half-hour.
The texts came back, one after another.
AMELIA: You’re good, girl. Don’t worry yourself.
ANTHONY: Looking forward to seeing you soon :)
Chapter Eleven
Olivia entered the hardware store in front of Anthony and immediately commented on the smell. She gripped the handle of a cart and closed her eyes as the cut wood and the soil and the metallic scents stirred through her nostrils. “I’ll never get over this smell,” she told him. “It reminds me of being a little girl and coming here with my dad. I loved it here. It was like a playground.”
Anthony laughed. As Olivia opened her eyes, she nearly swooned at the sight of his happy face, one she’d created with the memory.
“You think it’s stupid?” she asked, looking over at him.
“No, of course not. I have the same memories,” Anthony replied. “And I still have a feeling that this place is filled with magic.” He spread his arms out before him and added, “You can make anything out of all of this. You can build your very own kingdom.”
They piled several things into the cart, including fresh paint, slabs of wood, and various light fixtures, which Anthony said he wanted to try out but would maybe take back if they didn’t suit. Olivia couldn’t help but imagine, as they discussed which light fixtures to buy, that other people at the hardware store thought they were a couple — a team. She loved the thought of it much more than she wanted to admit.
After they loaded up Anthony’s truck, he insisted on making dinner for them that night. “You’ve been a huge help,” he said.
Olivia really felt that she’d done almost nothing to help. But still, she agreed. She was curious about Anthony’s cooking skills, and, admittedly, she was the tiniest bit addicted to being around him. At least with him, she didn’t think about Chelsea’s accident, or Tyler’s baby, or the letter she’d received from Marnie’s lawyers. She was free.
Back at the mansion, Anthony yanked the cork from a bottle of French wine and poured them both glasses. He’d already set up his little portable speaker to play old songs from the ‘90s, a decade of music they both upheld as “the best.” He lifted his glass and clinked it with hers and even made heavy eye contact. For a split second, Olivia wanted to kiss him.
But no. She couldn’t. It would only complicate things.
Anthony made gnocchi, which was something Olivia hadn’t had in years. It was marvelous to watch him create the little potato morsels and stir up the sauce. Throughout their marriage, Olivia had never once seen Tyler do more than press buttons on a microwave. The result was definitely something. Hot, even, although this seemed like a term she wasn’t allowed to use at forty.
Then again, it really was that. Hot.
Just before dinner was served, Olivia went upstairs to the only working bathroom of the place. She looked at herself in the mirror for a long time and even whispered to herself to stay focused. Maybe, this was some kind of date, the first she’d been on since her teenage years.
Maybe.
But she had to play it cool.
When she stepped back into the hallway, a strange stack of old books caught her eye to her left, inside the bedroom where Anthony spent his nights. Curious, Olivia stepped toward the door and gently pushed it open. As she stepped closer, she noted that the books were worn and personal, journals or diaries. Beside the stack was a hand-drawn map, spread out on the old desk.
The whole display looked strange to Olivia, so outside of time, that she stalled and stared at them for a long time. She was reminded of the film The Goonies, or long-ago days when she’d read the Nancy Drew series.
What the heck was Anthony up to?
But before she could either strike up the nerve to reach for the diaries or return to Anthony in the kitchen, she heard his footsteps on the stairs. Obviously, in her state of tipsiness and her confusion, she’d taken too long. In seconds, he found her at the doorway of his bedroom. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She was snooping and she’d been caught.
“What are you doing?” Anthony asked. His eyes flashed wickedly and he no longer seemed as flirtatious as he had downstairs.
Olivia stuttered at first and then pointed to the stack of diaries. “I just saw those through the crack in the door and I was wondering what they are?”
Anthony stepped forward to stand alongside her in the doorway. They both blinked at the stack of books and the map. Finally, Anthony sighed and said, “I wanted to tell you. I just didn’t really know how. It does sound crazy.”
Olivia’s heart hammered in her chest and her mouth was suddenly parched. “Tell me what?”
Anthony stepped toward the diaries and lifted one from the top. “I found these in a closet when I first started out on the house. They’re diaries from your Great Aunt Marcia’s grandfather. He had them latched away in a suitcase, and they were kept away from the storms, in good condition. You can read every word.”
Olivia arched an eyebrow. This was one of the strangest things she’d ever heard in her life.
“Oh. Wow. And what does he say in these diaries of his?”
“I didn’t read all of them, obviously. That’s a lot of literature,” Anthony affirmed. “But Marcia, she told me there was some kind of treasure map in the words. Something she’d never gotten around to deciphering as a kid.”
The words hung between them strangely. Olivia was incredulous.
“I’m sorry. Did you just say treasure?”
“I did,” he affirmed. Apparently, they abandoned the house and it went to ruin after her grandfather died at an early age. Somehow, those diaries were left here. “Throughout the pages, he leaves various clues about where that treasure might be. It’s either somewhere on the grounds or in the house itself. And his clues are very strange. They’re written in poetics, riddles and ... well. I’ve been going through them since I discovered them to try to figure out if they actually go anywhere. It would be so amazing to actually discover something.”
“Wait.” Olivia cleared her throat. “Are you saying that you’ve actually been looking for a real treasure? Here on this property, within this mansion?”
Anthony shrugged. “Crazier things have happened.
Olivia pondered this for a long time. She lifted the first diary from the stack and flipped through it. The penmanship was beautiful but difficult to decipher.
“Maybe that’s why Marnie wants the property,” she said, suddenly to herself but loud enough to warrant a puzzled look from Anthony. “If Great Aunt Marcia told you about it, I’m sure she also told her children and her grandchildren.”
It was obvious. Beyond the historical benefits of owning the place, the fact that it was the sight of an old treasure from their great-great-grandfather was more than enough reason to want the place for themselves.
“Wow. You’re probably right,” Anthony said.
Olivia turned her attention to the hand-drawn map, which Anthony confessed to having made himself.
“I tried to portion off areas of the mansion and grounds based on what he wrote in the diaries,” Anthony told her. “He said something about the waterline, but I don’t think that’s rational. Why would a man hide a treasure near the waterline? It’s totally apt to be destroyed out there.”
Olivia shook her head, still incredulous. After a long pause, her stomach grumbled.
“It sounds like you need some sustenance,” Anthony said with a laugh.
Olivia smirked. “Don’t tease me. I’m still mad you kept this from me.”
“I wasn’t going to keep it from you forever,” Anthony admitted. “I promise. It’s just been a strange pastime, going through these diaries. They’re so far removed from me. But this man lived in this room. He walked these hallways. In some ways, our lives are in parallel. It’s strange, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Olivia agreed, just as her stomach grumbled again. “But you’re right. We can talk about the rest of this over dinner.”
Anthony gripped her hand for a split-second and then dragged her toward the hallway, where they walked down the steps to the kitchen. Once there, she found that Anthony had already lit two candles over the little table and had portioned out the gnocchi beautifully. She sat and gazed at him in the flickering light. Her heart told her to tell him how much she appreciated all his help. Her soul told her to explain just how long it had been since she’d eaten a meal, one-on-one, with a man.
But instead, she lifted her glass of wine to clink against his and said, “Cheers to a new adventure, a treasure hunt. I never imagined this would happen in all my life. But wow. I feel lucky.”
Chapter Twelve
Jennifer’s eyes bugged out as she poured Olivia a glass of wine. It had only been a few nights since Olivia had had her gnocchi non-date with her wanna-be treasure-hunter, Anthony, at the old historic building she’d inherited. Since then, she’d done was stew in thoughts but now, she fleshed it all out for Jennifer, who immediately blurted out, “Why didn’t you call me immediately? This is crazy but also fascinating! It’s —”
“Completely non-Olivia-like?” Olivia countered, arching an eyebrow.
Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Don’t put yourself down, Liv. Seriously, this is such a good story. In the past few weeks, your life has totally turned upside down, in a good way.”
“You’re one to talk,” Olivia said. “You and Derek are literally the talk of the town.”
Jennifer blushed as she lifted her glass of merlot and tipped it against Olivia’s. “I don’t know about that.”
“You do, and you’re trying to be humble about it, but it isn’t working,” Olivia teased.
“Oh, shush. We all saw the way that handyman looked at you at the mansion.”
“Stop!” Olivia blushed.
“As if a guy who wasn’t into you would just make you gnocchi out of the blue like that,” Jennifer said.
Olivia shrugged. “We’ve already been through a lot together.”
“And I have a hunch you’ll be through a lot more. Like, each other’s pants.”
“Ew. Are you one of my teenagers at the high school?” Olivia demanded as Jennifer burst into raucous, silly laughter.
At that moment, Olivia joined her laughter, even as Camilla and Amelia stepped through the kitchen doorway to join them. It was the middle of the week and not exactly the most appropriate time to get together, but Olivia beamed at each of them, overjoyed that they’d agreed. After a lackluster January with not many hangouts together, they’d recommitted to a better February.
Mila arrived last, having just completed a “traumatizing” appointment at her esthetician salon. “There are just some things you can’t fix,” she muttered over a glass of wine.
“You look like you just came back from war,” Jennifer joked.
“I kind of feel like that,” Mila affirmed.
Jennifer poured a selection of snacks out onto little trays and then sliced some cheese. A few minutes after they’d settled around the table, there was the sound of footsteps from the hallway. That moment, Derek’s daughter, Emma, appeared, bright-eyed and smiling. As she adjusted an earring in her right lobe, she beamed at them and said, “Hello everyone! I just passed out in Jen’s room. I didn’t even hear everyone come in.”
Everyone greeted her warmly.
“I didn’t know you were here from the city!” Amelia said. “What’s brought you back this time?”
“Oh, you know. Dad’s birthday,” Emma said warmly.
“Oh,” Olivia said, beaming at Jennifer. “You didn’t tell us Derek had a birthday.”
“It was a small thing. Just us three,” Jennifer told her. �
��Although I have to admit, the homemade raviol came out beautifully. Didn’t it, Emma?”
“I was so worried it wouldn’t turn out. We had the Italian place on speed dial,” Emma said. “But Dad’s been bogged down with work today, and I came over here to borrow Jennifer’s hairdryer and then, well, I guess I just passed out.”
The girls at the table giggled and watched as Emma swept her coat on over her shoulders and said goodbye. The moment the door closed, Amelia said, “What a wonderful step-daughter you have, Jen.”
Jennifer laughed. “Step-daughter? Phew. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I already feel so close to her, though. She’s so easy to talk to and be around. Which is strange, isn’t it? I mean, it’s only been a little over a month since Derek and I got together.”
“But when you know, you know,” Amelia said again, without any kind of knowledge of what the heck that even meant.
Everyone fell into silence for a moment. After a pause, Jennifer said, pointedly, “Well, I’m not the one with news here. That would be Olivia.”
Olivia blushed, which led all the girls to howl with excitement.
“Come on and spill the goods, girl! Did the handyman finally kiss you?” Mila demanded.
“Easy ladies. Don’t press her,” Camilla said, although her eyes glittered with excitement.
“It’s nothing like that,” Olivia affirmed.
“I mean, it kind of is,” Jennifer said.
“No... It’s not romantic,” Olivia insisted.
“But a tiny bit romantic,” Jennifer countered.
“Whatever. Well. Okay. Anthony found Aunt Marcia’s grandfather’s journals, and apparently, there’s some kind of treasure buried somewhere on the property or located inside the old mansion. Doesn’t that sound crazy?”
The girls fell into laughter once again and then the questions started.
“A treasure? Like pirates?” Camilla asked, then looked at each of the girls like it was a joke.
“Yes, treasure. I don’t know about any pirates, though,” Olivia said with a laugh.
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