Since the street signs remained sparse, she didn’t know which roads Holly referred to—not that it really mattered. She didn’t need a summer camp.
“Besides the campground, is there anything else where we’re headed?”
“Nope. The Wrights own almost all the land and have for about a hundred years or so. Again, if you ask my brother, he’ll know. He’s a walking textbook of town facts.”
The sound of a rooster crowing came from the device in Holly’s hand. Why her friend used such an annoying sound to alert her to text messages was a mystery to Juliette.
“Mom’s on her way. My sister is with her.”
When Holly had informed her mom she was headed home and explained the reason why, Eleanor offered to go grocery shopping so Juliette wouldn’t need to worry about it. Although fully capable of doing the task herself, she’d accepted the offer immediately, since it meant she could avoid any public places for at least a little while. The food and other items Eleanor picked up wouldn’t last forever, but perhaps by the time she needed to replace them the media would’ve found a new juicy story to focus on.
“How long do you think you’ll stay with your parents?”
Eleanor and Holly’s twin brother, Marc, frequently visited New York, so she knew them both well. She’d only met Holly’s dad and sister a handful of times. Regardless, she knew the Lamberts were a close-knit family much like hers. But no matter how much you adored your family, after a while you usually wanted to get away from them. At least that tended to be the case for her. Holly had a similar personality, so she didn’t see it being any different for her.
“A few days. A month. I don’t know. I might even go visit my cousin in Maine before I head back home.”
“Is that the one who had a baby in September?” They hadn’t passed a single house in about ten minutes, and Juliette kept a lookout for any signs they were almost at their destination.
“Yes. And right before Valentine’s Day, she and her husband moved into the house they spent the last eight months building. The road you want is about another mile or so on the right.”
Unfortunately, the information didn’t help her much. She’d never been great at determining distance. When she received any kind of directions, she needed landmarks, not the number of miles she needed to travel before turning left or right. And forget about telling her to drive east or west. Unless the words were attached to specific streets in the city, they had no meaning to her.
Eventually, a road came into view on her right. A sign with the words Wright’s—Private Way hung from a pole.
Holly gestured toward the road before slipping her cell phone back into her purse. “This is the road you want.”
Calling this dirt path a road was a bit of stretch, but at least it was well maintained.
After rounding a curve in the road, a large shingle-sided home came into view. While her taste in homes tended to lean more toward either a contemporary design or something more like her parents’ home, she couldn’t deny that this style so often found along the ocean in places like Newport and Martha’s Vineyard fit its surroundings. Actually, it reminded her of a smaller version of Walker’s Point Estate in Kennebunkport, Maine.
She pulled in next to a Honda Accord already parked in an extended portion of the driveway marked Guest Parking.
“That’s Mom’s car. She must be inside talking to Mrs. Wright. They’ve been friends since elementary school.”
Her dad’s home office in Weston was larger than the one she followed Holly into. Then again, perhaps a large space wasn’t required for running a campground. Despite the size, it was tastefully decorated.
Holly’s mom and sister greeted them both with hugs the moment they entered. She’d learned early in their friendship that Holly’s mom was a hugger. In fact, she’d hugged her the very first time they met. Evidently, Mrs. Wright was as well, because she came from behind her desk and embraced Holly.
“It’s great to see you,” Mrs. Wright said before turning her attention Juliette’s way and extending her hand. “Welcome. I have a few things for you to sign, and then I can show you down to your cottage.”
She expected a handful of papers to read through and sign; instead, the owner retrieved an iPad and stylus from her desk. While she glanced through agreements, Mrs. Lambert and Tara, Holly’s sister, filled Holly in on something that had occurred in town the previous week. Considering the surprised look on Holly’s face, she knew the parties involved.
Juliette waited until there was a slight break in their conversation before holding out the iPad. “All set.”
Mrs. Wright returned the device to her desk and selected five keys from the wall. “All five cottages are fairly close together. I thought we could drive down there, and you can pick the one you want?”
Judging by the way Holly described them, all the cottages were similar. “No, that’s fine. Just pick one for me.” It wasn’t like she planned to spend the rest of her life living here.
The woman returned all but one key ring to its hook. “Cottage 10 is my favorite.”
Juliette had checked out the campground’s website after making the reservations. Although the pictures looked great, she’d still been a little apprehensive on the ride here today. She knew full well how much a photo could be manipulated. As she followed Holly’s mom down to the cottage, she saw that in some ways the pictures on the website hadn’t done the place justice. Although they varied in size and some were closer together than others, all the buildings looked like they’d been constructed in the past year, which thanks to Holly and the brief history on the website, she knew wasn’t true.
Mrs. Lambert’s car stopped in front of a cottage with the number 10 on the front door. Painted white with dark gray shutters and a matching door, it wasn’t as large as some of the others they’d passed, but it had a front porch with a swing. It also had an unobstructed view of the lake, something not all the others had. Immediately, she pictured herself sitting out on the swing in the morning and drinking her coffee. As much as she loved all the things she could do in Manhattan, sipping coffee from her front porch while looking at the water wasn’t one of them.
Before she opened the car door and joined the other women, she glanced at Holly. “Thank you. I think this is just what I need.”
Juliette had seen her share of beautiful interiors, but she’d never seen anything quite as quaint as the inside of the cottage—and the word quaint was the only way to describe the place. The main entrance opened into the living room, which transitioned into a small kitchen. On her left, a staircase that hugged the wall led to the second floor, while on her right stood a woodstove.
“This cottage only has one bedroom upstairs. I don’t know if you plan to have any guests while you’re here, but that’s a sleeper sofa.” She pointed toward the blue-and-white gingham sofa. “But if you want something larger, cottages 6 and 4 have two bedrooms.”
Nope, she didn’t expect any overnight visitors. While the primary purpose of this getaway was to avoid media, it was also about her having some time alone to make some decisions. As much as she loved her family, she’d find that difficult to do if they came and spent the night. “This is perfect.”