Page 111 of Summer People
“I’d be honored.”Bill beams as his wife pats his forearm.
I don’t know how being nominated as the island’s new mailman and delivery guy is an honor, but at least Doris’s husband is happy. And more than that, the task is no longer mine. Maybe I should feel sad about the loss of the jobs I’ve held for the last few years, but all I feel is freedom.
Though the sensation is dampened by concern, because Libby still isn’t here.
Wilder elbows me and glares at my leg, which I only now realize is bouncing. I don’t know why, but I can’t ignore the unease that nags at me over Libby’s absence.
I reread her message.
My Princess: Hey, Hacker. I forgot that I need to…oh, here we go. Yes, we got it. Good girl, Putt-Putt…ooh, good girl. I’d love you to call me good girl later…but after painting, okay?
Me: English, Lib.
My Princess: Oh sorry. I was dictating the message. You know how I cheer Putt-Putt on. If I don’t, she doesn’t take the curves well. But we made it. You’re probably already at the meeting. I’m coming, I promise. Just doing a little painting at the school first. I’ll meet you there. Stand firm. No more jobs for my hacker.
Even her clarification makes little sense. But I love themy hackerpart. Every time she claims me, my chest swells. And then I do dumb shit. Like attend a meeting I used to avoid at all costs because she wants me here.
Me: Everything going okay?
Her response will probably be nonsensical, but just hearing from her will calm my anxiety.
“Fisher?” Cank’s voice pulls me from my ruminations. “You approve?”
I blink. Approve what?
Wilder elbows me in the side and hisses, “Just say yes.”
“Sure.” I nod and once again force my leg still.
“Then it’s settled. Fisher will maintain his role as acting sheriff. Bill will take over the mail and grocery deliveries. And since Star lives close to the farm, she’ll help Todd keep Betty out of the strawberries.”
Eyes narrowed, I search the crowd for Flora, certain she’ll pipe up and insist I’m still on squirrel duty. Oddly, the woman isn’t here. My muscles tighten with unease again. She never misses a town meeting.
I force myself to relax, rolling my shoulders out. Jeez, I need to chill. This could be a good thing. Maybe she’s found something to keep herself entertained.
Next to me, Wilder clears his throat. “And my petition?”
Cank nods. “Yeah. We took a vote. You can take on the teal and white buoys. You’ll now have sixty traps. Teal, yellow, and white, per the union.”
Wilder pumps his fist.
“Did the mainland approve too?” I whisper.
Lips pressed together, he nods. “Two weeks ago.”
That means I no longer have to go out on the water in the frigid New England winter. An instant sense of relief makes me feel buoyant. Mixed in with the sensation, though, is a hint of guilt. Hunter loved getting out on the ocean, even when the mercury dropped below ten. Me? I hate it. I shake off the guilt and take solace knowing that Hunter’s legacy will continue through Wilder and his own passion for the open ocean, while I get to be home and dry.
And warm.
I glance over my shoulder again, but still no Libby, and she hasn’t responded to my text either.
“What about my issue?” Blue calls from the first row. “I’ve petitioned twice and gotten two hundred and twelve signatures this summer.”
On the other side of Wilder, Mrs. K groans.
Her son, naturally, chuckles. “He’s my hero.”
“We cannot put up nude sculptures that point the way to each landmark!” Doris exclaims.
