dollars in her bank account. Olympia was living on Social Security and Edmundâs pension. Now both of those will stop.â
âBut I thought she was okay. I thought Uncle Edmundâs life insurance was covering her expensesââ
âThe proceeds of your uncleâs life insurance went to cover his medical bills and funeral expenses.â Dr. Marcâs lips thinned. âIâm sure Olympia was too proud to tell you. She didnât want you to worry about her.â
Breathing deeply, Annie lowered her head into her hand. This was too much to absorb in one sitting. She loved Heavenly Daze, but in her teenage years the island had seemed hopelessly isolated and outdated. Sheâd fled Frenchmanâs Fairest after her high school graduation, and until a few months ago she had tried to avoid the place whenever possible.
But last October life had begun to teach her that maturity meant taking time to appreciate those who had opened their hearts and home to you . . . even when you didnât appreciate them.
Now she would own that home, a lovely, antique house that wasâ
âAn albatross,â she murmured.
Dr. Marc frowned. âWhat?â
âThat poemâthe one about the sailor with the bad luck bird around his neck. I wonder if this is how he felt.â
Leaving the doctor in the kitchen, Annie stood and moved wearily toward the stairs.
Edith wasnât certain how, but news of Olympiaâs passing had spread over the island like a grassfire. The parsonage phone had her on the run even before church. Vernie Bidderman calledâcould she do anything? Wasnât it awful? Who would be next?
Cheerful thought. Edith sighed as she hung up the receiver.
Cleta Lansdown called a minute later, beside herself with grief: âI just talked to Olympia after supper last night. She wanted to know if I had a certain fat quarter she favored. I told her that I did have the fabric and Iâd drop it by after church this afternoon.â Edith listened as emotion choked the womanâs throat. âIâve said such hateful things about Olympiaââ
âOlympia wasnât an easy woman to love,â Edith said, taking pains to keep her voice low and soothing. âWe have all had unkind thoughts, but Olympia is at peace with us now, and I know sheâd want us to rest easy about her.â
âI donât knowâI wish I had apologized for some of the things Iâve said over the years. Now itâs too late. Micah always says we should live each day as if it were our last one, but I never realized how right he was till now.â Cletaâs voice dissolved into sobs.
Hanging up a moment later, Edith realized that she had not been voicing meaningless platitudes. Olympia had been both friend and foe to every woman on the island at some point. Sheâd had a tongue sharper than a serpentâs fang and a will as stubborn as stone. But her absence would leave a gaping hole in every islanderâs heart.
Edith wandered into the bedroom and opened her closet door. The full-cut corduroy dress sheâd planned to wear to church lay on the bed, but what would she wear to the funeral? Undoubtedly thereâd be a few off-islanders present, maybe even some folk who had never met her. Olympiaâs son was a hotshot Boston lawyer, and maybe heâd bring his wife. Edith would need to look good for Winslowâs sake.
She stood before the rack of dresses, her gaze flitting over them until her eyes fell upon a black size eightâthe stuff of distant memories. Sheâd paid more for that one garment than her monthly food budget at the time, but Winslow had insisted she buy the dress for a pastorâs banquet they had attended. She had looked nice that night, thin and svelte, and Winslow hadnât been able to take his eyes off her.
But sheâd ingested buckets of clam chowder since then, and nothing but her shapeless winter dresses and
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