After rounding a curve in the road, a large shingle-sided home came into view. While her taste in homes tended to lean more toward either a contemporary design or something more like her parents’ home, she couldn’t deny that this style so often found along the ocean in places like Newport and Martha’s Vineyard fit its surroundings. Actually, it reminded her of a smaller version of Walker’s Point Estate in Kennebunkport, Maine.
She pulled in next to a Honda Accord already parked in an extended portion of the driveway marked Guest Parking.
“That’s Mom’s car. She must be inside talking to Mrs. Wright. They’ve been friends since elementary school.”
Her dad’s home office in Weston was larger than the one she followed Holly into. Then again, perhaps a large space wasn’t required for running a campground. Despite the size, it was tastefully decorated.
Holly’s mom and sister greeted them both with hugs the moment they entered. She’d learned early in their friendship that Holly’s mom was a hugger. In fact, she’d hugged her the very first time they met. Evidently, Mrs. Wright was as well, because she came from behind her desk and embraced Holly.
“It’s great to see you,” Mrs. Wright said before turning her attention Juliette’s way and extending her hand. “Welcome. I have a few things for you to sign, and then I can show you down to your cottage.”
She expected a handful of papers to read through and sign; instead, the owner retrieved an iPad and stylus from her desk. While she glanced through agreements, Mrs. Lambert and Tara, Holly’s sister, filled Holly in on something that had occurred in town the previous week. Considering the surprised look on Holly’s face, she knew the parties involved.
Juliette waited until there was a slight break in their conversation before holding out the iPad. “All set.”
Mrs. Wright returned the device to her desk and selected five keys from the wall. “All five cottages are fairly close together. I thought we could drive down there, and you can pick the one you want?”
Judging by the way Holly described them, all the cottages were similar. “No, that’s fine. Just pick one for me.” It wasn’t like she planned to spend the rest of her life living here.
The woman returned all but one key ring to its hook. “Cottage 10 is my favorite.”
Juliette had checked out the campground’s website after making the reservations. Although the pictures looked great, she’d still been a little apprehensive on the ride here today. She knew full well how much a photo could be manipulated. As she followed Holly’s mom down to the cottage, she saw that in some ways the pictures on the website hadn’t done the place justice. Although they varied in size and some were closer together than others, all the buildings looked like they’d been constructed in the past year, which thanks to Holly and the brief history on the website, she knew wasn’t true.
Mrs. Lambert’s car stopped in front of a cottage with the number 10 on the front door. Painted white with dark gray shutters and a matching door, it wasn’t as large as some of the others they’d passed, but it had a front porch with a swing. It also had an unobstructed view of the lake, something not all the others had. Immediately, she pictured herself sitting out on the swing in the morning and drinking her coffee. As much as she loved all the things she could do in Manhattan, sipping coffee from her front porch while looking at the water wasn’t one of them.
Before she opened the car door and joined the other women, she glanced at Holly. “Thank you. I think this is just what I need.”
Juliette had seen her share of beautiful interiors, but she’d never seen anything quite as quaint as the inside of the cottage—and the word quaint was the only way to describe the place. The main entrance opened into the living room, which transitioned into a small kitchen. On her left, a staircase that hugged the wall led to the second floor, while on her right stood a woodstove.
“This cottage only has one bedroom upstairs. I don’t know if you plan to have any guests while you’re here, but that’s a sleeper sofa.” She pointed toward the blue-and-white gingham sofa. “But if you want something larger, cottages 6 and 4 have two bedrooms.”
Nope, she didn’t expect any overnight visitors. While the primary purpose of this getaway was to avoid media, it was also about her having some time alone to make some decisions. As much as she loved her family, she’d find that difficult to do if they came and spent the night. “This is perfect.”
“Excellent. There’s a binder in the kitchen with some information you might find useful, including the restaurants near us that deliver. If you want to use the woodstove, you can go to Valley Landscaping and get some wood, or you can call them; they’ll deliver it to you. Both their address and phone number are in the binder as well.”
She’d done a lot of things in her life, but starting a fire wasn’t one of them. While she doubted it was difficult, she didn’t see herself giving it a try anytime soon.
“If you need anything or have any issues, please just call.”
Chapter 3
After sleeping in his sister’s spare bedroom for a few days and then in a hotel room for several more, Aaron was looking forward to a night in his own bed. While the hotel he’d stayed at had been great and offered guests some excellent amenities, including one of the nicest indoor pools he’d ever used, at the end of the day, he’d still returned to a hotel room. The same was true of his stay at his sister’s house. Although Nick and Elise had insisted he treat the place as his own and even gave him a key, it wasn’t the same as being in your own home.
Perhaps even more than his bed, he was looking forward to a meal that didn’t come from a restaurant. The last homecooked meal he’d eaten had been breakfast on Sunday before leaving his sister’s house for the conference in Charleston. He enjoyed eating out as much as the next person, but it got old fast when you did it for every meal.
Rubbing the persistent ache over his left eye, he stopped at the four-way intersection. While he did a fair amount of air travel each year, he hated it. Between the long lines at security, cramped seats onboard the plane, and frequent delays thanks to the weather, it often gave him something bordering on a migraine and put him in a foul mood. Today’s travel experience hadn’t been any different. After making his way through security this morning, he’d sat around the airport for an additional two hours, thanks to a weather delay. Then he’d hung around the airport in Nashville for another hour and a half. He never understood who planned the flight routes. To him, it made very little sense to fly west and then north, but that particular flight had been one of the cheapest available. Even when his plane landed, his traveling wasn’t done, thanks to the almost three-hour drive from Boston to Avon. Actually, the only time he missed living in the city was when he flew in and out of Logan Airport.
Thankfully, his day of travel was just about behind him, and he didn’t need to head back to Boston for at least two weeks.
The guitar solo pumping through the car’s speakers stopped, replaced by the ringtone he’d programmed for when his younger sister called. When he answered, though, it wasn’t Candace that greeted him. Instead, it was his niece, Tiegan.
“Hi, Uncle Aaron. Mom wants to know if you’ll be home for dinner.”
For the past seven months, his sister and niece had been living with him. On the nights Candace didn’t have class, she prepared dinner. Unlike their older sister, she cooked as well as, if not better, than their mom.
“Yep. Tell her I’m less than five minutes from home.”
Growing up, he’d looked forward to calling somewhere other than Avon home—not that he didn’t love the town, but he’d been eager to leave and experience somewhere different. As soon as he graduated college, he’d gotten his first apartment in Watertown. He’d lived there until he could afford a condo in Boston just minutes from his office. Three years ago, though, he’d bought his parents’ house and moved back to town. He didn’t regret his decision in the least. Well, except for days like today when he traveled. If he still lived in Boston, he would’ve been home hours ago and already relaxing in front of the television with a beer.