Will helped me carry my things across the yard and through the oleander hedge. Eleanor stood on the steps watching, her hands braced on her hips. She was wearing a yellow sundress with a full skirt that was unexpectedly girlish. Her face was stiff with strain. For the first time I could remember, she looked her age. “I don’t know what this is supposed to accomplish,” she said.“El, please.” Will turned to look at her, but she was already on her way inside. From the edge of the lawn, I heard the screen door bang shut.The move didn’t take long, I hadn’t brought much to the Island—just enough clothes to fill a suitcase, my photo gear. Will handled everything carefully, as though my modest belongings were somehow precious.He set the battered suitcase gently on a luggage rack and I laid everything else on the bed. “You have your own bathroom,” he said, “as of course you know. What else?” He stepped back into the doorway as if to indicate that the room was now entirely mine.
