Page 26 of Summer Ever After
“I’m glad that I don’t have to worry about that with you dear.”
My body relaxed even further, but I couldn’t help but wonder why Mrs. Graham wasn’t worried about me making out with a landscaper or one of the cute deckhands. That thought lasted a millisecond. I didn’t care, and she was right – I was on the island to work and make money, not have some stupid whirlwind summer romance. I’d had my chance for one of those and I’d blown it. Also, not one man had caught my eye since I’d had Max’s arms wrapped around me. Not even the landscaper who had given me his last bottle of water last week. “No, you certainly don’t have to worry about me.”
Mrs. Graham blew out an exasperated breath, her lips flapping. “I just meant that I know that you are mature, and a serious worker, the best that I’ve had in years, actually.”
“Thanks, Mrs. G. I just want to do my job and do it well.”
The skin around her eyes crinkled as she smiled. “You’re going big places, I can feel it. Make sure that whatever you’re working hard to achieve, you go for it. I think that you’re a wonderful girl, but I don’t want to see you working here five years from now.”
“You’re a great boss, but if everything goes to plan, I’ll be giving you my resignation in two years.”
“All right then. I think that works for both of us.” She clapped her hands together and then rubbed them before opening the file that was sitting on the table. “I have one question though. When I submitted your tax documents, I noticed that your name isn’t Daisy.”
I gulped. How much was I going to have to tell her? “Daisy is more of a nickname. Is that a problem?”
“No, but I will have to have your paychecks issued in your real name.” She closed the folder. “I know that this isn’t my place to ask, but why don’t you go by your given name? Rose. It’s such a pretty name.”
“My stepmom started calling me Daisy and it just kind of…stuck.” I resisted the name change when I was younger, but a few hot slaps to the cheek changed my mind. “I like the name.” I shot Mrs. Graham a smile and should’ve stopped there, but I continued, weaving in a little truth where I could. “My mother’s name was Rosamund, I’m named after her. It’s a little too painful to think of her whenever someone calls my name.” Tears stung my eyes. I swiped at them, surprised by their appearance.
Mrs. Graham stood and opened her arms. I followed her lead, standing and letting myself fall into her warmth, her strong arms wrapping around my body. I let myself rest there for a moment before pulling away. She pulled a tissue from the cargo vest she wore over her apron and handed it to me. “Don’t worry, it’s clean. This pocket almost holds half a box.” She patted one of the many zippered compartments on what I was pretty sure was a fisherman’s jacket.
I dabbed at my eyes and then blew my nose. “I’m sorry about that. Should I go meet Tara on the third floor?”
“Don’t you dare apologize.” She zipped up her vest. “You’re on boathouse detail today.” The boathouse was essentially a full-blown cottage sitting over the boathouse. Everyone hated the boathouse detail because there were so many stairs to get there, but I liked it. I’d open the windows and let the breeze and the sound of waves lapping beneath the floor be my radio station, instead of the pop station Tara liked to blast while she cleaned.
“Got it.” I beat Mrs. Graham to her catchphrase of the day. I grabbed one of the radios, made sure it was on, and clipped it to my belt. The door had just closed behind me when I heard Mrs. Graham’s voice calling me.
“Daisy.”
I opened the door and peeked my head inside. “Yes?”
“I know that you don’t want to be called Rose. But, maybe it would help you to step into your mom’s memory. I wouldn’t want my daughter to be sad every time someone said my name.”
Nodding, I knew that she was right. But Christina would flip her lid if someone called me Rose in her presence. “Maybe.”
“How about we start with Rosie?” It was her smile that got me. This woman had known me for two weeks and already she’d shown me more care than the woman who had been tasked as my conservator.
The smile that spread across my face was involuntary. “I like it…but how about we just use that on the island, you know, test it out a little bit.”
Her smile faltered, but she nodded. “Sure. Mainland Daisy is now Island Rosie.” She clapped her hands. “Now get that butt down to the boathouse and make sure it’s sparkling. Got it?” She beat me to it.
“Got it.” My voice cracked and I turned so she wouldn’t see any more tears. As I plodded down the stairs to the boathouse, a bag of towels and bedding slung over my shoulder I felt strong, and a little taller. Out here on the island, even though I was a maid, I felt like myself.
The red and white striped curtains billowed in the breeze and the open concept main floor of the boathouse, decorated in nautical style without being tacky, was bathed in sunlight from the huge picture windows that ran along the front of the building.
Laughter and squeals caught my attention and I drew the curtains aside. In the distance, the sandy beach on the shoreline was bustling. Boats were anchored, flags flew, and colorful buoys bobbed on the surface of the water. We had approached the island from the north side and if I hadn’t come down to the boathouse I might not have known that I was witnessing the Windswan Lake Regatta. Every lake seemed to have its version, and a wave of nostalgia washed over me as a flotilla of kayaks navigated around the buoys. Growing up we had never missed a regatta, and my swimming trophies had lined the fireplace at our summer home. Well, until Christina moved in. She called them tacky and one day I came home to find the mantle crowded with candles named after sexual positions. I was young and didn’t know what reverse cowgirl meant, but it smelled like peaches. To this day, the smell of peaches makes me queasy.
I drew the curtain shut, closing out the festivities, and set to work. Mrs. Graham checked in a few times throughout the day, especially after I worked through my lunch, but when I got into the zone, I didn’t want to stop. The podcast about ice cores was fascinating and sweat beaded on my brow as I climbed up and down the ladder ensuring that the ceiling fans were one hundred percent dust free.
The door flung open as I swiped clean the last blade. A pretty blonde woman stood panting in the doorway. She said something, but I pointed to my headphones and took them out as I climbed down the ladder. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.” I held up the earbuds as though I had to prove it.
“Have you seen my brother?” Her eyes tracked around the room.
“Who is your brother?”
She looked at me like I was insane and I realized that I was looking at one of the Starling kids. Who wasn’t a kid at all, she was a full-grown gorgeous woman who looked like she’d just stepped off the pages of a women’s health magazine. She was wearing a sports bra and running shorts, but her feet were bare. Her hair was slicked back into a long blonde ponytail. At what I assumed was her most casual, it felt like I was in the presence of a celebrity.
“You’re one of the new ones.” She put her hands on her hips. “We’re supposed to be in the relay and I can’t find him anywhere.”
