“I drive around. Check each of his rental properties. See if anybody’s broken in.”
“Has that happened?”
“Three nights ago. East end of the island. Summer cottage got its window busted. They took the microwave, the toaster, and one of those video game machines.”
“Maybe I should get in on this. I could use a microwave and a toaster.”
“Not a joking matter if it’s your stuff being stolen.”
Abigail felt bad about the remark. Of all people, she was thoroughly acquainted with the anguish of losing possessions. “Should I start locking my door at night?”
“You? Naw, nobody’d come near that lighthouse.”
“Why? A ratty couch and chipped soup bowls aren’t good burglar bait?”
“No, because they’d be afraid to.”
The insinuation irritated her. “Merle, if this is personal or territorial or you don’t like me, so be it. However, you should know that if you’re trying to get me to leave the lighthouse, to scare me away, it won’t work.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like you, Abby. Contrary to your landlord, I’m trying to give it to you straight.”
In her heart, Abigail believed that Merle meant well and that he was looking out for her best interests, which was what worried her.
“Then give me my paint so you can finish your filleting.”
Merle rung her up and tossed in a plastic flashlight for free. She got out her wallet.
“You don’t have to pay me now.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “That’s how it is here.”
“What is it with this town? Yesterday I traded detergent to cover the cost of doing my laundry, and now you won’t take a cent for more than a hundred dollars in merchandise.”
“Met the Professor, eh?”
“If that’s what you call him.”
“It’s not what I call him. That’s what his students at MIT called him.”
“Pardon me?” Abigail was stunned.
“Name’s Bertram Van Dorst. He taught astrophysics at MIT for twenty years. He was born on the island, and when he retired, he moved home.”
“You’re telling me that man is a rocket scientist?”
“He is a wee bit eccentric, I’ll grant you.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“Bert’s the smartest guy to ever live here. Won awards. Worked with NASA. If a guy as brilliant as him wants to come back to Chapel Isle, must mean Chapel Isle’s worth coming back to.”
Merle’s pride reminded her of Denny and how he’d encouraged her to stay. Abigail suddenly saw Chapel Isle as a pretty girl who wanted to be appreciated for more than her looks. To most, the island was a summer destination, an escape. To the people who lived here, Chapel Isle was their world.
“So you’ll run a tab for me?” Abigail asked.
“Depends on if you’ll be sticking around.”
“You know where to find me when you need me to pay. I’ll be there.”
“With this much painting to do, you definitely will be.” He opened the store’s front door, holding it for her as she hauled out the paint cans and supplies. “You want a hand getting to your car?”
“No, I’ve got it.” Although straining, she was determined to do this on her own. “Oh, wait. I need more matches.”
Merle slid a box into one of the bags Abigail was juggling, another gift.
“Good luck,” he said.
“I might need more than luck.”
“That you might.”
in
stau
ra
tion (in? sto ra? sh?n),
stau
ra
tor (in? sto ra? t?r),
