Page 28 of Spotted at Lighthouse Bay
“I set up a date for you next week,” Patty said, opening a cupboard and pulling out a muffin tin. “He’s averyhandsome man and has a small farm on the west side of the island.”
“A farmer,” Sheila said, a smile dancing on her lips. “I like that for you.”
“I appreciate it, Patty, but I’m not really looking for a date.”
“Of course you are! Your ex-husband moved on. Why shouldn’t you?”
“It’s not about that. I’m busy dealing with my mom, and I’ve been working on some translations, too.”
Sheila’s eyes brightened. “What translations?”
A grin broke across Addy’s face. “That client who wanted me to translate those articles into Italian? Now he wants me to translate some Italian short stories into English.”
“Get out of here!” Sheila slapped her hand on the table. “Congratulations!”
Patty put a hand on her hip. “Is this a new business you’re starting?”
Addy nodded. “I’ve always wanted to work as a translator, but I never had the time when I was working at the university, so I’m giving it a shot. I figure, what have I got to lose?”
“That’s exactly what I think about your date.” Patty wagged a finger at her, then dropped a paper onto Addy’s lap. “This is it. Seven sharp. You’re going to love it.”
Before Addy could protest, Patty brushed past Rick and out the back door.
Addy stared at the paper.The Spotted Duck, 7PM, Corey F.
“Did I just get match-made?” Addy asked.
Sheila erupted into laughter. “I think you did.”
Her phone rang. It was her mom.Again.
Addy sighed. If this was part of getting adopted by Patty, she’d do it. Plus, her daughter Riley kept encouraging her to put herself out there. What could go wrong?
Ten
The days on the island repeated, sunrises and sunsets over the steady sea. Rick kept close watch on Adelaide, and she spent much of her attention tending to her mother’s complaints.
“I’m only going to see her once a day,” Adelaide explained. “There have to be rules. I have to be firm, like with a toddler, or she’ll walk all over me.”
Rick nodded. He knew what it was like to love someone who was exhausting. “That’s smart.”
Adelaide laughed. “There’s nothing smart about it, but it’s the best I can do.”
They whiled away their afternoons in the tea shop. Adelaide sat at a table, her laptop perched in front of her, a pot of tea within reach. She worked on her translations and Rick sat a few seats away, watching her along with the comings and goings to the little shop. He allowed himself to read as long as it was quiet, never losing sight of the doors.
Though he normally declined tea, Eliza still brought him treats – cakes, cupcakes, cookies. Things she was perfecting. “Free of charge,” she’d say, “except the cost of your feedback.”
He never had any feedback. Everything was delicious. He wasn’t terribly interested in cakes, but her recipes were interesting enough.
Sometimes they sat outside, the seagulls calling above them. He still read, but made sure he was aware of their surroundings. In this case, that meant staring out at the water, watching the birds swoop in, tracking Joey as he took off and landed, took off and landed.
The rhythm and routine should have made it easy for him to sleep. Every night, he thought he might have a chance at some peace.
It was a nice thought. He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling fan spinning in the shadows. It could get chilly at night, but he didn’t close the window. The air was unbelievably clean and fresh. The little sleep he got was often after taking deep breath after deep breath. One night, he swore he heard the blows of a passing pod of orcas.
The only change to their pattern was Friday, when Adelaide had to get ready for her blind date.
“I don’t think you need to come to this,” she said, standing in front of the mirror and dabbing on mascara.
