“See you, Edna!” Moira yells over her.
“Oh, you. I’m not going to say something mean.”
“You sure?” Moira asks, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
“I was just going to tell her she can do a lot better than that slimy Brett Kennedy.”
Moira’s shoulders drop. “I don’t think she—”
“—You should see if that nice Brad Pitt is still single. Now, he’d never take up with the nanny.”
“Just his co-star …” I remind her.
“Damnation, I forgot about that. I don’t know how you gals do it these days. If you ask me, men haven’t been the same since our president started getting hummers in the Oval Office.”
“Okay, Edna, thank you!” Moira says, raising her voice urgently as she guides her toward the door. “See you tomorrow morning.”
“What did I say?” Edna demands while allowing herself to be ushered out.
As soon as the door closes behind her, Moira and I both start to laugh.
“Welcome to my circus,” she tells me, throwing her hands up in the air. “I’m so sorry about her. She really shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Don’t worry about it. She’s right.” Looking around I say, “This is a beautiful place. Big too.” I lean over and peer up the stairs.
“Everett was a crab fisherman. He did well enough that we were able to buy this place when it went on the market. It used to be owned by a couple who rented out some of the bedrooms to hunters during the season.” She smiles at me, but I can see the pain in her eyes is still fresh. “We were planning to knock down some walls and give the kids bigger bedrooms, but then he died and, well, it never happened. As it is, we have eight small bedrooms up there. Crazy, right?”
As Moira pours me a bowl of cereal and pushes it across the counter, I take a seat on the stool. True to Wyatt’s word, Juno has stayed right next to me since we met and is now staring up at me with a hopeful expression.
I glance around the room again and a thought pops into my head. “Haveyouever thought about renting out some of the rooms?”
“Who in their right mind would want to stay here with my kids running around like wild animals?” she scoffs. “Also, I’m pretty sick of people by the end of the day and I’d hate to have to be polite to more strangers. I need my down time.”
“What if you had a friend who had some people coming to town and they needed a place to stay?”
“Harper.” Moira sits down at the bar stool across from mine. “Do you have a friend who needs a place to stay?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” I tell her excitedly. “The lodge is full and from what I understand, Brett is renting the only other place in town.” I tell her, “My best friends, Prisha and Ethan, are coming up tomorrow night. They’ll probably only be here a few days.”
“I’d be happy to let them stay,” she says with a grimace. “But you better let them know the accommodations aren’t fancy and they’ll be sharing with three boys, a dog, two cats, and five fish.”
“How about if I give you two hundred a night for each of two rooms. Does that sound fair?” I’m sure it’s more than Moira would ever ask, but she’s doing us such a favor she really ought to make a premium.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Harper. I’m not going to charge you.”
“Then I’m going to have to keep them in my cabin and we’ll be packed in like sardines.” I arch an eyebrow in challenge.
Shaking her head, she says, “Fine. But only if they come to the diner to eat. All their meals will be included in the price.”
I reach my hand out to shake hers. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
After the boys are off to bed, we spend the next several hours drinking too many wine spritzers and talking on her front porch like a couple of old friends. Even though our situations are vastly different, there’re enough similarities to bond us together. Grief has a way of doing that.
Eventually, we move on from talking about our sad stories and start talking about men in general. How ridiculous they can be, how much having a husband can feel like having an extra child.
I lost count of how much I’ve had to drink, but I know it’s a lot when I loudly announce, “Digger’s not like that.”
“Not like what?” she wants to know.