Page 79 of Summer with the Single Dad

“H-hello,” Justine rasped past a still tight throat.

“You okay?” the woman asked, her voice equally as raspy.

Justine swallowed. “Just … not a huge fan of crowds.”

The older woman nodded. “Me either. Can I sit with you?”

Justine glanced at her empty passenger seat. “I was actually thinking I might head home.”

But the woman was already toddling around the front of the SUV and opened up the passenger side door. “Do you mind taking me home, dear? I’m done with the crowd too. My ride wants to stay longer.”

This was weird. A stranger just hopped into her vehicle and asked for a ride. Was this an island thing? Because never in a million years would Justine do this back in Seattle. Or anywhere else she’d lived, for that matter. Nowhere felt safe enough.

Except maybe here.

The woman buckled her seatbelt, looking pleased with herself. She knitted her gnarled and dirt-stained fingers in the lap of her flowy, tie-dyed dress. “I’m Keturah Katz.”

“Uh … Justine … Justine Brazeau.”

“Oh, I know who you are. You’re staying in one of the McEvoy Cabins. Or at least you were until it flooded. Now you’re staying in Bennett’s house until the trailer arrives.”

Justine’s mouth hung open, and she gaped at the woman. “Uh … yeah. How did you—?”

“Not a thing goes on, on this island that I don’t know about.” She said it with pride, then nodded her head at the push-start button. “Let’s go. I need to take my pills.”

Blinking for a few seconds at how direct this little woman was, Justine snapped back to reality, hit the “start” button and pulled out of her parallel parking spot.

“Mind you, I didn’t know about Brooke Barker staying with Clint McEvoy. That came as a shock to everyone. They really did a marvelous job keeping it a secret. I was a bit ashamed I didn’t know sooner.” Keturah glanced out the window. “But you know, with age not only comes wisdom, but also forgetfulness. It’s why I take gingko biloba and do sudoku every morning.”

They reached the stop sign. “Where am I going?” Justine asked.

“Left, dear.”

Justine turned left. She was still really confused about what had just transpired, but she also welcomed the distraction from her own feelings.

“You’re a doctor, right?” Keturah asked.

“How did you—?”

Keturah faced her and tapped her temple. “I know everything. Remember?”

“Right. Um … yeah. I mean, at least I was.”

“You can never stop being a doctor. You just stop practicing. So why’d you stop?”

“Long story.”

“I live on the far-north side of the island. We have time.”

“I … I don’t even know you.”

The older woman’s gray eyes twinkled between all the hard-earned wrinkles. “Who better to tell your secrets to than a stranger?”

“You just confessed to knowing everything that goes on, on the island. Doesn’t that mean you’re a gossip?”

Keturah’s barely-there pale brows shot up nearly to her hairline. “It certainly does not. People come to me with information. Doesn’t mean I give it away.”

“Fine. Fair point. But I’m still not comfortable airing my dirty laundry to a hitchhiker.”

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