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wonderful woman you are, to heck with him. You’re better off without such a stupid man.”
    “I could say the same to you.”
    Bernie smiled. “I’m better at fixing other people’s lives than fixing my own. Call Carrie or we’ll get in trouble with Eleanor.”
    I dialed Carrie’s number and gave her as many details about Rita and George as I knew. She offered to do a title search on their land and see where it led, and she repeated what Natalie had already told me.
    “They didn’t look right together,” she said.
    “Okay.” I wanted to talk about it for hours, and I didn’t want to talk about it at all. I decided on the latter. “Cell service is spotty up here, so I will call you tomorrow,” I told her.

    Though it was a chilly April morning, Bernie and I sat at one of the outdoor tables to drink our coffee. I’d eaten breakfast, but Bernie dove into an egg-and-bacon sandwich while Barney salivated.
    “At least he still has his sense of smell,” Bernie said.
    “That’s what Eleanor says.” I patted the dog’s head. “Poor guy, he hates being away from his routine. I think it confuses him.”
    “He’s not the only one who’s confused.”
    “Confused about what?”
    Bernie shrugged. “Why I came, I guess. It’s just been so long. Maybe too long.”
    “Did you keep in touch with George and Rita at all after high school?” I asked.
    “No. I heard things. We’re all originally from Long Island. I moved into New York City with Johnny. They moved to California for a time. Then I’d heard they’d come back east maybe fifteen years ago.”
    “But you don’t know what they did for a living?”
    “The last time I really wanted to know anything about them was so long ago. We were all kids. Everyone changed jobs. George wanted to be an actor, which seemed, when we were teenagers, like a really romantic thing to do. He said he wanted to make movies until he made enough money that we could travel the world.” She sipped her coffee and stared off at the distance. “At one point I heard he sold office supplies.”
    “Doesn’t that make you feel better in a way, to know that he didn’t end up living the perfect life?”
    She shrugged. “No one lives the perfect life. I made T-shirts when I first got married. Johnny worked at one of those free newspapers, drawing cartoons. Then when the kids came along, he worked at a greeting-card company, and I got a job behind the counter at a drugstore. When he died, I went back to school and became a pharmacist. It was a struggle but that’s life. It’s scary sometimes when you don’t know what’s going to happen next, but that’s what makes it fun.”
    “That’s what Susanne says about making an art quilt.”
    Bernie laughed. “She’s a wise woman.”
    “And a good friend,” I said.
    Bernie nodded. “She always has been. I guess I was a little rough on her. I think I was just embarrassed by how hard it hit me, hearing those names again.” She waved her hand as if to dismiss the topic. “We should get back.”
    I was beginning to realize that something about Bernie’s story didn’t make sense. “George said Johnny was a millionaire.”
    Bernie laughed. “His family had money, something to do with the insurance business. I never really knew much about them, because his father thought Johnny was a hippy, throwing his life away on some girl from nowhere. He cut Johnny out of his will. We never saw them after we were married. They never even met their grandchildren.”
    “Does George know that?”
    Bernie frowned. “Why would he care?”
    “Maybe he thinks you can help. They’re obviously in over their heads at the bed-and-breakfast.”
    “That’s crazy, Nell. Even if I could, I wouldn’t be so foolish as to invest money in a broken-down inn in the middle of nowhere.”
    “It makes you wonder why they did.”
    “Well, if you’re worried that they’re hoping to get some cash from me, rest easy. Johnny didn’t leave me anything but