Page 63 of A Change of Location
Joining him, she said, “Far as I could tell. Lexi is exquisite.”
“You enjoyed your trip to England? Except for—” He broke off.
“Except for that, yes. I spent time with my grandmother in Wales, and saw other relatives. The natives are friendly. You and Liz will like the people at Stanwell.”
She had a vision of Martin and the Gregorio-Pictons seated at the long mahogany dining table. She mentally filled more chairs with Poppy and Owen Parry and Nigel Rossiter. And Caroline Bryden, the host’s beautiful cousin. Not Alistair, though—he wasn’t important enough to receive an invitation to the imaginary dinner party, and didn’t deserve one. The double chandeliers glowed and the Latimer silver service gleamed. Laughter and erudite conversation filled the room.
And she would be scouting in rugged Nova Scotia, driving a rental car across windswept terrain. She’d stay at a cheap motel. Or, if lucky, a bed and breakfast with a resident dog.
Liz came into the study, holding up her phone. “I’ve just sent you the contact info for an ad agency downtown. They’re looking for a producer, if you wanted to give up freelancing for a permanent position. They have huge accounts all over New England.”
“You’re an excellent pimp. Thank you.”
She didn’t take the Red Line back to Cambridge but stuck to her original plan of returning on foot. She appreciated the spirit-lifting sight of the Charles River and the view of the city from the Longfellow Bridge. On the other side, she followed a favorite jogging route on the MIT campus perimeter. Spotting an unoccupied bench, she sat down to answer a group text from her college friends, seeking a mutually convenient date for a get-together.
Instead, she pulled up the Milver Vale Messenger website. She scrolled through community news bulletins, looking for Martin’s name. It didn’t appear in any of them.
Returning to the rambling stucco residence where she lived, Hannah found her landlady watering the flower containers on the porch.
“Hey, Hannah. I finally got ahold of an electrician who can check out the wiring in the basement apartment. He said he’d come sometime this week, and that he might need to switch off fuses elsewhere. I’m not sure if the upstairs rooms will be affected.”
“Thanks for the warning. Let me know if you need someone to weed your vegetable garden. I’m available.”
“So am I, for a change. Now that the semester is behind me.”
Erica, a widowed priest, taught theology in Harvard’s religion department. Her son from a prior marriage was a legislative aide.
“How’s Elliot?”
“Busy as ever. He’ll be house-sitting for me later this summer when I lead a clergy retreat to Scotland. We’ll be staying on Iona.”
Before becoming involved with Martin Latimer, she would have relished the prospect of having the very attractive and unattached Elliot in residence. “That’s great.”
“My first trip without Helen. I’m ready. I think.”
“A Scottish island will be better than Boston when the summer heatwave comes.”
“How right you are.”
***
At every Palindrome Posse gathering, alcoholic beverages were consumed, sometimes to excess. Hannah made the prudent choice of taking the train to Newton and a rideshare car delivered her to her college roommate’s condo.
“C’mon in. Mim just got here,” Eve said. “I’ve never seen your hair that short.”
“Souvenir from a very fancy London salon. Sort of. My hairdresser did her best to copy the cut, from a photo on my phone.” One Poppy had taken, of Hannah and Martin standing in the stable doorway. “But she chopped off way too much.”
“It’ll grow.”
Eve’s jeans were cropped just enough to expose the discoloration on her dark brown legs. On a fateful April afternoon, she and a multitude of spectators had stood in viewing distance of the Boston Marathon finish line. She’d been waiting for her brother to complete his run when the bombs exploded. Surgery to remove the metal projectiles embedded in Eve’s flesh left permanent scars.
Hannah followed her into the kitchen, where the lethal drinks were being concocted.
“Here’s to us.” Mim lifted her martini glass. “Together again! Let the commiserations begin.”
“Why? What happened?
“My ex-husband moved in with his former girlfriend,” Eve announced. “Last week, I got dumped by the guy I’ve been dating on the rebound.”
