“It’s Annie’s fault,” Kevin said wryly. He began with Annie’s idea to decorate the Inn with “Vineyard natural” accents, then told Donna about the skull and all that had happened since, ending by saying that the skull was in Boston being examined. At the onset, Donna’s eyes had grown large; they stayed that way throughout the tale.

“And then, thanks to Annie’s boyfriend’s daughter,” he added, “the whole story went viral. Photos included.” He began to clarify the term “going viral,” until Donna reminded him that she wasn’t a Luddite, and knew full well what it meant.

“So now what?” Donna asked Annie.

“Now we wait. And we pray that the remains aren’t Native American, because if this is determined to be sacred ground, we can’t have the Inn. I don’t know what will happen to the house. Or to Kevin and Earl’s investment.”

The three of them stopped talking. Annie wished she’d made tea, if only to give them something to do. Sip. Stir. Sip. Be productive in their silence.

“It’s quite a story,” Donna finally said. “When will you know the outcome?”

“Obviously, we hope it’s in time for us to finish what needs finishing so we can open Memorial Day weekend. Mostly because we’re already booked.”

“Five weeks,” Donna said.

“Four weeks and six days,” Kevin corrected. “The first reservation is for Friday of that weekend.”

“And our year-round renters will be moving in then, too. They don’t have to pay rent until June first, but we gave them extra days because that’s when they have to be out of their winter rentals.”

“Which means,” Kevin said, as he stood up and moved the chair back to the table, “I need to get back to work. Earl and I are calling ourselves the ‘skeleton crew,’ pun intended.”

“Wait,” Annie said as she, too, stood up. “Donna . . . Mom . . . has some news, too.”

Kevin glanced at his watch. “Can it wait ’til later? Dinner, maybe? I’ve got to help Earl finish painting now that it’s stopped raining.”

That’s when Annie noticed the sun peeking into the cottage. And that the Vineyard was looking like a happy place again.

“Of course,” Donna said. “Go back to work. It’s nothing important, anyway.”

“You’re not getting married or anything, are you?”

“No, dear. I am not getting married. We’ll talk later. Shall we go to the Newes? I like it there. My treat.”

Kevin said, “Absolutely,” and that he’d be back at six o’clock to pick them up.

And Annie was left standing, wondering what to do with Donna until then, since it was apparent that the woman was in no shape for beachcombing, and had been too nervous to tell her son what was really going on.

Chapter 13

Chapter 13