“Jesus.” She turned to them, swiveling on the chair. “You scared the shit out of me, Glen. Don’t sneak up on me like that.” Then she looked at Abigail and said, “I’m sorry. I thought I was alone up here.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Abigail said. “I get scared like that at least once a day.”
The woman laughed, and Abigail said, “Mellie, right?” Then she glanced at the computer screen behind her, wondering if what she was looking at had anything to do with her reaction. But the screen was blank, just a box in the middle where a password would go.
“Abigail, what can I help you with?” she asked, recovering.
“I was hoping to use a phone for a quick call.”
“Oh sure,” she said, glancing at Glen. “I can show you where it is.”
“Thanks, Mellie,” Glen said, and retreated out of the room, while Abigail was led to one of the desks that didn’t have a computer, but which had a phone on it.
“Dial nine to get an outside line,” she said, then left Abigail alone.
Abigail opened her paperback—it was her well-worn copy of We Have Always Lived in the Castle—and punched in the number. She heard several ominous clicks and then there was a distant ringing.
“Hello?”
“Zoe, hi, it’s Ab.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yes,” Abigail reflexively said, then added, “Well, no, actually. I can’t talk long, but I need you to do me a favor, okay?”
“What’s wrong?”
Abigail, aware of the presence of Mellie, leaned forward over the phone and lowered her voice. “Remember that guy in California? At the bachelorette party?”
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s here.”
“What?”
“He followed me here. He thinks we’re in love.”
“He’s there on the island? Staying there?”
“Yes. And I’m pretty sure he was at the wedding, too, skulk ing around.”
“What?”
“I know. It’s nuts.”
“Jesus,” Zoe said. “Does Bruce know?”
“No. Not yet. I might just tell him … I don’t know.”
“What would he do if you told him?”
“He’d leave me. It would all be over. Our marriage would be over.”
“Then don’t tell him,” Zoe said.
“The guy … this guy, whatever his name is, says he’s going to tell Bruce about us. I don’t know what to do. I’m freaking out.”
“Ab, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Can you do me a favor? Can you look him up? He says his name is Scott Baumgart—probably B-A-U-M-G-A-R-T—although I’m not totally sure he’s telling the truth. See if you can find something out about him. He said he was a carpenter but that he did regional theater. That might help. And he said he lived in San Francisco.”
“I’m walking right now. Dan’s car’s in the garage so he took mine and now I have to walk to work.”
“You don’t have to do it right now, but as soon as you can, okay? There’s no internet here, no service at all, but I can call you back on this line.”
“What’s his name again?”
Abigail told her, and they agreed that Abigail would call back sometime later in the evening to get a full report. After hanging up, Abigail stayed at the desk for a moment, wondering how much Mellie had heard, but when she turned to go, she found that Mellie had disappeared from the room. She was alone, and she stood for a moment, wondering if there was a computer she could get onto. But just as she was considering her options, she heard someone bustling by in the hallway and abandoned the plan. She found her way back to the main hall, where a few more people had gathered and the bar was now open. There was a seat open by the fireplace and Abigail decided to take it, wait for Bruce to show up.
CHAPTER 15
Thought I’d lost you,” Bruce said as he settled in across from her ten minutes later. He was wearing a fleece with his company logo on it, and hiking pants, and his cheeks were flushed as though he’d been outside all morning.
“I thought I’d lost you,” Abigail said. “It’s so strange not to have cell phones, otherwise I’d just have texted you.”
“How was your morning?”
“I’ll tell you all about it, but right now I’m famished.”
Lunch turned out to be a buffet. Abigail actually wasn’t that hungry, her stomach still in a tight knot from her encounter with Scott earlier that morning, but she managed to have some tomato bisque, which came with slivers of toasted sourdough topped with Gruyère cheese.
“So you had a good morning?” Bruce asked, for the second time, after they’d finished their meals.
“Yes, that pool is beautiful, but no more of this separation, okay? It’s our honeymoon and we should do things together.”
“Agreed. No more separation.”
They walked back to their bunk together, the day darker and the sky beginning to spit rain. It felt like dusk and the inside of the bunk was dark. Bruce began to light a candle by the bed.
“No, don’t,” Abigail said.
Bruce shook the match out, and Abigail undressed and slid under the covers. She could hear the distant roll of thunder, and the window that looked out toward the pond lit up with a weak flash of lightning. Bruce began to undress as well. Unlike the night before, when the thought of having sex with Bruce made her almost queasy, she was now physically aching for him to touch her. Scott might wreck their lives together, but he couldn’t wreck this particular afternoon, Abigail thought.
Bruce slid under the covers quickly. Despite how much he liked to look at her when she was naked, he was modest himself, often turning away when he undressed.
“This is nice,” Abigail said, as she slid a thigh across him and their lips met. The light from the window was projecting streaks of rain onto their skin. “Let’s stay here all day, okay?”
“Let’s,” Bruce said, and shifted underneath her. He wasn’t hard yet, so
