Chapter 6: Blair's Offer

"Nobody you know," I called back up to her.

"Really? Because she looks so much like..."

"Blair," Lawrence said from the dock behind me.

Just her name.

Blair lowered the phone.

"Like Gary," she said brightly. "The eel. She told me all about him."

She turned and went inside.

The screen door clapped shut behind her.

I didn't look back at Lawrence.

I carried Poppy up the side lawn on my hip even though she was too big for it.

I didn't put her down until we were in the kitchen.

For two days Blair was lovely to me.

That was how I knew.

She came into the kitchen in the mornings and asked how I was.

She brought Poppy a pink plastic tiara from the gift shop in town.

She told the servers my scones were the best thing she'd eaten in Maine.

She said it loudly, in front of Lawrence, at breakfast.

Lawrence didn't say anything.

He'd stopped coming into the kitchen at all.

He sent notes now.

Order more halibut. J.T.

Porch dinner Friday, 40 covers. J.T.

The boat arrives Thursday. Tell her. J.T.

I did not tell her.

On Wednesday afternoon I was in the laundry room pulling hot side towels out of the dryer.

The door shut behind me.

Blair leaned on it.

She was in white again.

I had never seen her in a color.

"I like this room," she said. "It's the only one in the building that doesn't smell like fish."

"Can I help you?"

"I think I can help you."

She held out a folded sheet of paper.

I didn't take it, so she opened it and read it to me.

"Executive pastry chef. The Winslow Resort, Naples, Florida. Two hundred and sixty rooms."

"Double what Lawrence pays you. A furnished two-bedroom on the property. Private kindergarten for staff children."