The Sweetest Summer: A Bayberry Island Novel (17 page)

“Glad you liked it.” When Evie made eye contact with him, Clancy could see how torn and sad she was. “I need to go back inside with Chris.”

“Wait.” He touched her upper arm. “Is that your usual ‘have-a-good-day-at-work’ kind of kiss? Because if it is, I can pretend I forgot something, go back in the house, and come out again.”

She did manage a smile, but it didn’t spread to her eyes. It was a start, though. And he’d take it.

“I think that kiss was a first. I just wanted you to
know . . .” Evie didn’t finish her thought, but she didn’t have to.

“I feel the same.” He brushed the back of his hand down her cheek. “Despite everything and no matter what happens, I am grateful we got to see each other again.”

“G
ather ’round, ye ’maids.” Mona gestured for everyone to sit. “As we know, the Island Day opening has been delayed two hours. This has thrown us off schedule.” She inclined her head toward Darinda Darswell. “Thankfully, Darinda has reworked our assignment flowchart. Darinda?”

Mona knew she was being sly. Every member present would notice that seemingly innocent statement and it would be fun to watch their reactions. Slowly, it began to dawn on them. Some women dropped their jaws. Some scrunched their faces in confusion. Some looked as if their eyeballs would spring from their sockets.

By turning over festival-week scheduling to Darinda, Mona had made the first, blatant indication that she was ready to step down. After thirty-six years, she had decided this tourist season would be her last as the president of the Bayberry Island Mermaid Society. In Darinda, she had finally found a natural leader who both understood the sacred nature of the job and possessed the skills to pull it off.

Most important, she had agreed to put her name on the ballot.

“What the fuuuh . . . ?” Polly Estherhausen caught herself, slapping a hand over her mouth.

At least she was trying. Mona recently received a formal complaint about Polly’s language penned by Izzy McCracken and signed by eight other members. They claimed curse words had no place in the spiritual domain of the mermaid. They said Polly’s fondness for the “F” word, in particular, tainted their rituals and diminished the sacred nature of true love itself, although her frequent use of the “sh” word and the “a-hole” word weren’t so great either.

Abigail jumped to her fins. “Shit just got real up in here, people!”

“For crying out loud!” Izzy threw her hands around in exasperation. “I give up. Maybe this group should abandon all pretense of decorum. I know—let’s forgo the costumes and run around in obscene T-shirts. Something like . . . Y
EAH
,
W
E
G
OT
A
F
UCKIN
’
M
ERMAID
.
”

After a moment of stunned silence, Layla O’Brien raised her hand. “If you order twenty or more you can get a discount.”

Darinda glanced at Mona with a wide-eyed and worried expression.

“You’ll do just fine,” Mona whispered to her, patting Darinda’s hand. “But it does look a little different from this angle, doesn’t it?”

Darinda nodded.

“Hold up.” Polly stiff-armed the room as a whole. “Let’s get back to the point. Mona—what’s going on?”

Mona took a deep breath and turned to address her dearest friends in the world. “Ladies, I think the time has come for a transition. Darinda is thirty years my junior, full of energy and wonderful ideas, and she has excellent organizational skills. She’ll be on the ticket come our October election. I am going to hang up my shells.”

It took a while for the general shouting, jumping, and hugging to stop so that Mona could continue. “We’ve talked about this many times, ’maids. The leadership role has become too much for me, and God knows Rowan has no interest in continuing the tradition and taking
over as president. She doesn’t even want to be among our general membership.”

Abby laughed. “Am I the only one who finds that ironic? Rowan is with her heart-mate because of the Great Mermaid’s intervention. As a matter of fact, so is her best friend, Annie! We authenticated both cases, did we not? And yet they both still refuse to
believe
!”

Sadly, Abigail was right. Despite benefiting directly from the mermaid’s good works, the young women had no desire to join the Society. While it was disappointing that Annie Parker wasn’t interested, it was a
tragedy
that Rowan felt that way.

As the only Flynn woman of her generation, Rowan should have been the next Mermaid Society president. It was a tradition that stretched back to the 1890s, when the eldest daughter of Rutherford and Serena Flynn created the society in her mother’s honor. Since neither of Mona’s sons were anywhere near married, Rowan was the only one who could continue the unbroken line of Flynns to serve the mermaid.

There was no convincing these young women that their good fortune was the handiwork of the sea goddess. Rowan and Annie believed that garden-variety coincidence and good luck were behind their love stories. How flat it must be for them to go through everyday life without the spark of the Great Mermaid’s magic. How dull it must feel.

All that said, Mona had finally accepted that there was no reaching them. There was no forcing it. The decision to open oneself to the mermaid had to come from the heart, like all life’s most worthwhile choices.

Izzy raised a finger. “I do have one small question.”

“Me, too,” Polly said. “Is this meeting going to go on indefinitely? Because I gotta pee like a pregnant racehorse.”

Mona gave Izzy the floor while ignoring Polly.

“I don’t question Darinda’s abilities or dedication—I truly do think you’ll be a wonderful president—but do
our election eligibility guidelines allow us to put a former fairy on the ballot?”

A hush went through the room. This was a sensitive topic for the society. Many years back, several members defected, deciding to create a new organization, one that honored the
alleged
existence of woodland fairies in the island’s nature preserve. Most mermaid devotees considered it a slap in the face, and possibly even a tongue-in-cheek lampoon of the island’s sacred legend.

Darinda cleared her throat. “I was a member of the Fairy Brigade when I first moved here, but it didn’t last.”

Polly headed for Mona’s bathroom. “Well, nobody else has shown the slightest interest in being on the ballot for the last three decades! So fairy or not, I say we let the girl chase her dream.”

Layla jumped up and hugged Darinda. “I think you’ll be terrific!”

Mona agreed the matter was settled and asked Darinda to proceed with scheduling. Just before the meeting ended, Mona placed her hand upon the stack of colorful brochures on the coffee table. “Please remember that in addition to the beauty of the legend itself, these brochures are our best recruiting tools, and I don’t have to remind you that we are in desperate need of new members.”

Abigail sighed. “We know, Mona.”

The meeting adjourned and the mermaids scattered to their Island Day assignments. As Mona closed her front door, her thoughts went to Clancy’s visit that morning. If she said anything to him about this, he would tell her she was a fruitcake, but the fact remained—her son’s vibration had undergone a dramatic change in just twelve hours.

Last evening, he seemed preoccupied and unfocused. This morning, he was exhilarated. She sensed a joy in Clancy she hadn’t seen since he was a kid, spiced with a pinch of danger. When she sat with him on the couch, she had known he was on the verge of transformation.

Surely, this change in his vibe was not due to his police work. He never got wound up about his job, not even during festival week.

Mona went around her house turning off lights, checking that the coffeepot was unplugged, and giving a last-minute tug on her long blond wig. It was unheard of—Clancy just walking in and announcing he needed help. He was self-sufficient to a fault. Even something as overwhelming as his cottage renovation was primarily a solo endeavor. It was how Clancy saw himself—a man who gave help instead of asking for it. As police chief, he spent his life assisting others. As the only Flynn son on the island, he was forever helping his family.

And this was why she was so puzzled. What revolution was taking place in the spirit of her unflappable middle child? And the mermaid ensemble for a tall and slender woman? And a kid’s pirate costume? What was that all about?

Mona smiled in the hallway mirror. Of course it was a woman. A woman with a child.

Mona grabbed her tote bag and headed out for her busy day as ambassador of the Mermaid Society. She had to remind herself that she would not get involved with Clancy’s personal life, at least not directly. Her days trying to coordinate her children’s happiness were behind her, but, that said, she was curious to see what would happen with the costume she’d given him.

He had no way of knowing, but the mermaid ensemble he’d borrowed was more than just spandex and sequins. It was the regalia Mona had worn for her last six swearing-in ceremonies. She had renewed her devotion to the legend six times in that tail, and believed it had absorbed the purest of light, been infused with love energy, and now hummed at an advanced, openhearted frequency. In short, any woman who wore that ensemble would receive protection and strength from none other than the Great Mermaid herself, the goddess of the sea, the patroness of true love.

Mona hoped whoever this girl was, she would make the most of it.

*   *   *

Clancy had been right. Christina needed a nap. The little girl was so tired that she conked out within five minutes, despite the unfamiliar environment. The lovely ocean breeze moving through the window soothed both of them, and forced Evelyn to admit that the motel had felt more like a prison cell than a rented room. She lay next to Christina on the bed until her niece’s breathing fell into the settled rhythm of deep sleep.

Evelyn then stood and went to the back deck of Clancy’s house, watching the sunshine burn through the clouds. His place was small but comfortable, and it was clear he’d put a lot of effort and time into making it his own. The kitchen and bathroom looked recently modernized, both rooms featuring light gray marble counters and a variety of repurposed antique cabinets and shelves of all kinds of shapes and sizes. They were all painted the same glossy off-white, giving them a harmonious appearance despite their differences. Then he’d added touches of color with backsplash tile in blues and grays. She was impressed. Clancy had an eye for detail, and the colors and textures inside blended seamlessly with the beach house setting.

She was enjoying the view from that beach house now. Sea grass and squat pine trees fringed Clancy’s property, and a crooked walking path wound its way from his yard down to the waterline. But all that was window dressing for the spectacular, front-row seat at seaside. With the sun’s help, she could see that Clancy’s house actually sat on the highest point of a little spit of land jutting into the water. Off to the left, breakers crashed up against an outcropping of sharp and foreboding boulders, but on the other side, waves spilled peacefully on a couple acres’ worth of pretty beach. Funny how such extremes existed side by side on one sliver of land.

Evelyn gazed out over the expanse of blue, green, and gray sea stretching into forever.

Like most Mainers, Evelyn knew and loved the state’s lacy edge of seashore, but because she grew up in the foothills and worked in the state capital, she never felt as if the ocean dominated her surroundings. It was easy to forget that nearly two-thirds of the earth was covered in water when you lived inland. Not here. The view from Clancy’s little backyard gave Evelyn a to-scale view of the world: she was a tiny speck, standing on a small rock, surrounded on all sides by a vast ocean. Wasn’t it interesting that only a few days before she had imagined Bayberry to be the ideal place to hide? Now she realized she might have backed herself into a corner. If it wasn’t for Clancy Flynn, she’d already be in handcuffs.

*   *   *

“Son, I need your help at the chili cook-off. It’s an emergency.” Clancy could tell by his father’s authoritative tone of voice that Frasier Flynn was in official mayoral mode.

“What’s up?”

“I think one of these smart-asses from the mainland put psychedelic mushrooms in his entry. Dammit! I hate when this happens!”

“Can I send one of my crew over?”

“Are you
nuts
?” Frasier caught himself in midshout and lowered his voice to as much of a whisper as he could manage, which was none at all. The Flynn kids had always snickered at the “Irish whisper” their father was known for.

“We must keep this quiet, son. Come alone. Act casual. The story they ran in the
Bulletin
two years ago nearly shut this whole pop stand down and you know it. We . . .” Frasier stopped suddenly to dole out a few hearty greetings to passersby. “I’m back,” he said with a loud sigh. “We simply can’t have the cook-off judges wandering around Island Day tripping on ’shrooms again. I need you to take care of this.”

Clancy rolled his eyes. His father had been known to become slightly paranoid executing his official duties
during festival week. Rowan had long ago given it a nickname: “Mayornoia.”

“Relax, Da. I’ll be there as soon as the one o’clock unloads.”

“Fine. Fine.”

Clancy finished greeting the latest batch of tourists as they disembarked from the ferry, shaking hands and getting hugs from repeat visitors. All the while his mind was on his two houseguests. What were they doing? Were they staying inside out of sight? Had they watched the news on his TV? Was she finding anything there to keep Christina occupied? The Flynns didn’t have any little kids around. He didn’t know much about children—especially little girls—and what they might like to play with.

Were they even still there?

As Clancy headed over to the cook-off stage, he decided he needed to be clear in his own head about what he was doing. Did he regret the situation he’d put himself in? No. In fact, he knew from the second he saw Evie what was ahead for him. Even when he didn’t realize who she was, he felt compelled to help her carry whatever burdened her.

After Clancy had finished roll call and shift change that morning, he managed to catch a few moments in his office with the door shut. An FBI memo said they planned to sweep through Bayberry in the afternoon and would contact Clancy when they were en route via helicopter from the Vineyard. In the meantime, video of the congressman making a spectacle of himself was being replayed everywhere on TV and online. He issued a formal statement in which he took full responsibility for seducing Amanda McGuinness, admitting he had abused his position of authority with a staff member. He went on to claim he would gladly abandon his political career if it brought his daughter back safely. The guy even addressed rumors of his impending divorce, saying that whatever his wife chose to do he couldn’t blame her. “I haven’t been a very good husband. I don’t deserve her.”