Page 46 of Acadia Falls

I spent the following morning studying. Besides a few texts from Alex, my phone was silent. Around ten a.m., it started to rain. I caught myself wondering whether Jack and Tommy would return early from fishing. It doesn’t matter. I flipped the page of my Constitutional Law outline. He hasn’t called or texted.

Apparently, spending the night with me had been too much for Jack. I couldn’t believe he would just ghost me—especially on a tiny island where I was bound to run into him once a day—but there I was, alone at the kitchen island. Not one word from the handsome lobsterman.

I stared at my outline, the words running together. I’d promised myself I would stay away from men all summer, and this was why! I didn’t have time to be upset about hot fishermen with anger management issues! I needed to pass the bar exam so I could pay off my student loans and live my best life!

I put my outline away. I knew myself well enough to understand that I needed a break and some space. An idea popped into my head. Jordan Pond was a big attraction in Acadia National Park—it was supposed to be a relatively easy hike, and a popular restaurant nearby served popovers. Tourists from all over the world visited the famous pond and ate at the restaurant. I couldn’t care less about baked goods at the moment, but the distraction of a hike seemed like a good idea. Alex had mentioned the Jordan Pond loop, so I sent her a quick text.

Hey, do you want to head over to Northeast and hike Jordan Pond? Popovers are my treat.

We’re going to ABC tonight—that Mexican restaurant! Raincheck on the hike?

And you should come to dinner! Charlie’s almost over what happened, lol!

Ugh, I’d almost forgotten about Charlie. Almost.

Thanks, but I have to study later. Have fun!

I’d figured Alex would be busy, but I still felt a little bereft at the idea of hiking alone. I glanced out the window—it was still lightly raining. I looked back at my books and decided that it didn’t matter. Hiking in the rain alone was better than sitting here, moping about you-know-who!

I got up and changed into sweats, a T-shirt, and a light raincoat. I was a grown woman, and I was going hiking by myself. It was no big deal. I was Maran Riley, graduate of Columbia Law School, first-year associate at the national law firm of Krieger and Krieger. I was taking a break from studying for the New York Bar Examination. I was going off-island to eat some popovers and hike around a pond, goddammit. I filled an aluminum water bottle, grabbed my bag, and headed outside.

It was a little colder than I expected. I wrapped my arms against my jacket and headed toward the dock. The mailboat was the public transportation to and from the island; I’d never taken it because Alex’s family had their own boat, but I knew it picked up passengers on the hour. I walked down the ramp to the dock, carefully keeping my gaze averted from the lobster co-op. I didn’t want to see Jack. More importantly, I didn’t want Jack to think I was looking for him. I most certainly was not!

“Hey Blondie. Watcha doing?”

I turned to find Tommy on the other dock, parked near the co-op. He finished tying up his boat, wiped his hands on his jeans, and came closer. He squinted as he scrutinized me. “You going off-island?”

“Yes.”

Tommy looked me up and down, taking in the water bottle. “You going for a hike in this weather?”

“Yes.” I lifted my chin.

“You going for a hike in that outfit?” He appraised my thin sweats and pristine, white running shoes.

“What’s wrong with my outfit?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Nothing if you want to get soaked and freeze to death. There’s a storm coming in.”

I looked up at the sky, which was dark. Then I looked at my phone, which projected rain for the rest of the afternoon. “I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

I pulled my bag up on my shoulder. “I do.”

Tommy hesitated momentarily, then asked, “You doing the Jordan Pond loop?”

“How did you know that?” I blinked at him.

He grinned. “Because that’s what all the tourists do. You take it easy, Blondie. If you get stuck in the storm, let us know.”

“Thank you, Tommy, but I’ll be fine.” The mailboat appeared on the horizon, and some other tourists came down the dock. “Take care.”

Tommy chuckled. “You take care. I’ll tell Jack you said hi.”

“I didn’t say—” But Tommy ducked inside the co-op, and the other passengers joined me on the dock, so I promptly shut my mouth.

It went from drizzling to lightly raining as the mailboat crossed Somes Sound to Northeast Harbor. There were only a few other passengers, but everyone crowded into the covered section of the boat. I was forced to grab a seat at the perimeter, half inside, half outside. By the time we reached the dock, I was wet and cold—not that I was going to let that deter me. The rain was steady as we disembarked. I carefully climbed up the ramp to the parking lot, wishing I had a car.