“Sorry. I’ve already started panicking,” Ari said. But she was no longer crying. “The sandwich was delicious, Gram.”

  “Thank you,” Eleanor said. “Would you like a pickle to go with it? And some ice cream?”

  “That’s awful,” Ari said, but she at last smiled.

  * * *

  —

  They spent the rest of the evening watching a James Bond movie in the surety that no character in the movie would get pregnant. Ari thought she wouldn’t be able to sleep, but when she snuggled into her bed, she fell asleep at once.

  * * *

  —

  For the rest of the week, Ari was grateful that the never-ending chaos of Beach Camp kept her from dwelling on the pregnancy. Most nights she spoke with Beck, who was in Plymouth. He talked in general about the sort of work he did, the sense that people these days had what he called “free-floating anxiety,” suddenly hit by an anxiety attack brought on by the world news or a friend’s accident or simply by living in this curious world. Ari didn’t tell Beck she had a very specific reason to be anxious.

  Friday night, Cal and his cousins were having a cookout for the Beach Camp crew. Cal asked Ari to come and to please bring her grandmother. Ari wore a blue summer dress and Eleanor wore a lavender caftan, and they were both lighthearted as they drove toward Sunnydale Lane. It was a warm evening with clear skies and a light breeze. Sometimes Nantucket could seem like heaven, an idyllic island with soft sea air, magnanimous old trees creating patches of shade, rose-covered arbors over slate walkways to historic homes. On the way they passed a Jeep carrying a laughing family with their black Lab sticking his nose out the window to catch the breeze, and a father on a tandem bike, with his young son pedaling like crazy, the mother behind, pulling a child’s bike trailer. Summer evenings on Nantucket were very much I’ll think about that tomorrow.

  “Ah,” Eleanor said when they turned onto Sunnydale Lane, “a new person’s street.”

  Newly built modest homes set among slender saplings planted to take away the naked look of the landscape. Most houses wore shingles that were golden instead of gray, meaning they were recently built, because all old Nantucket buildings, even if only a year old, had turned gray from the weather.

  Three cars already filled the driveway and more cars were parked by the curb. Ari neatly angled hers between a van and a Jeep. As they walked toward the house, they heard laughter at the back. They went around the side of the house to the backyard.

  Cal was standing at the grill, turning hot dogs and flipping burgers.

  “Hi, Ari,” Cal said. He handed the spatula to Sandy, who waved, and walked toward them. “Mrs. Sunderland,” he said. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so very much for the tees.”

  “Please call me Eleanor. And you’re most welcome. I admire what you’re doing.”

  “Well, it’s exhausting, but it’s fun. And Ari is a star. The children are crazy for her.”

  “They certainly are,” Ari joked.

  Sandy, pretty in pink, arrived. “Ari! Hi! And you must be Mrs. Sunderland. Gosh, we love the tees. You’re so clever. Would you like a beer? Or a soda? Sparkling wine? They’re over here in the cooler. Or what else would you prefer?”

  Ari and her grandmother followed Sandy to the cooler, where Ari poured sparkling water into her plastic cup and poured wine into Eleanor’s.

  “Hello, Ari.” The woman was older than Ari, but not by much, and she was enchanting.

  It took Ari a moment to recognize Cleo without her balloon earrings and clothing, but she remembered just in time. “Oh, hi, Cleo.”

  “I work at Our Island Home.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “Sometimes people don’t recognize me.” Cleo came close so she could speak softly. “I think some people are afraid I’m going to check their pulse or stick them with a blood sugar monitor.”

  “I know,” Ari replied soulfully. “That happens to me all the time, too.”

  Cleo laughed so loudly, others looked over at her.

  Ari introduced Cleo to Eleanor. A large handsome man with a bushy red beard joined them.

  “Ari, Eleanor, this is my husband, Scott.”

  Eleanor and Ari shook his massive paw.

  “So,” Eleanor asked, “is this where Cal lives?”

  “It’s where Poppy and I live,” Cleo answered. “Cal lives in the apartment above the garage.”

  Scott added, “I stay here when I get a chance to come down from Boston.”

  “What do you do in Boston?” Eleanor asked.

  “I’m a lawyer for an exceedingly boring firm,” Scott said.

  Before Ari could ask what firm, Cleo chirped up. “Tell her how we met, Scott. You guys, it’s such a funny story.”

  Ari listened with a smile on her face as Scott described in detail how Cleo accidentally smashed her ice cream cone onto his best shirt at the Harvard Square Brigham’s that doesn’t exist anymore.

  Poppy, Cleo and Cal’s cousin, came over to say hello. This evening her glasses had pink frames, Ari noticed.

  “Oh, what a detail to remember!” Poppy laughed. “Of course, you’re young. My eyes are only slightly bad, for reading, and I tend to be a little absentminded—”

  “A little?” Cleo teased.

  “I accidentally leave them down the corner of the sofa or on the kitchen counter. You know how it is,” Poppy admitted. “So I just buy in bulk and have them all over the house.”

  “Poppy’s divorced,” Cleo explained. “I think her husband couldn’t stand all those glasses everywhere.”

  Poppy wasn’t bothered by Cleo announcing that she was divorced. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the reason,” she agreed with a grin.

  Some of the younger volunteers joined their group and introductions were made. Ari thought her grandmother must be overwhelmed by all the new names, but Eleanor seemed to be having a wonderful time. Soon the food was ready. They piled hamburgers, potato salad, and coleslaw on their plates and strolled over to sit at the several picnic tables. Eleanor and Ari sat at a table with Cal, Cleo, and Scott.

  “Oh, delicious,” Eleanor said. “There’s nothing like a burger grilled outside.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” Cal said.

  “Thanks for asking us,” Ari said. “It’s fun talking with your cousins.”

  “Oh, they’re all right,” Cal said, knowing Cleo and Scott could overhear, “but a bit boring, I find.”

  “Come on!” Cleo said. “I jumped off the roof of the boathouse up at the lake and hit my head.” Leaning forward, she pulled back her hair to show her scar. “Sixteen stitches!”

  “I stand corrected,” Cal said. “You’re a daredevil.”

  “I’d have to be, to marry Scott,” Cleo joked.

  “Hey!” Scott objected.

  “Where do you go after the summer?” Eleanor asked Cal.

  “Back to divinity school,” Cal replied.

  Ari was surprised. “You’re going to be a minister?”

  “I got my master’s in divinity at Yale, but next year I’m going down to a seminary in New York to become an interfaith minister.”

  “What does that mean?” Eleanor asked.

  “It means I can marry two people who don’t belong to the same religion. A Muslim to a Catholic. An atheist to a Jew. A woman to a woman. Like that.”

  “Good for you, Cal,” Eleanor said. “We need more people like you.”

  What an interesting family, Ari thought as they continued talking while the evening grew cool. She was glad Eleanor was having a good time, talking and laughing. But her thoughts flickered back to Beck. They had a date for a movie with Hen this Saturday.

  Also, Ari thought, with a pang of fear, she was pregnant.

  Suddenly restless, she picked up her empty cup and walked over to the cooler full of ice and drinks. She knew she was having a minor panic attack. She’d had those before finals in college, and she wasn’t surprised to be having one now. So many things of huge importance were coming at her this summer like a flock of birds, blocking out her view of the future. Would her parents divorce? Should she tell Peter about the baby? Should she have the baby? She strolled along the edge of the yard pretending to admire the dahlias and daisies as the night sky dimmed to lavender.

  Poppy appeared at her side. “I know this isn’t much of a garden. I’d love to plant some annuals, but we’re only renting this house, and we need to focus our money on Beach Camp.”

  “Do you have a garden in Boston?” Ari asked.

  “Well, I have container pots in all my windows, but I live in a condo, fourth floor, so I can’t actually have a garden. I had one when I was married, but after the divorce, I needed a temporary home. That was three years ago…” Poppy shrugged.

  “Temporary homes can be wonderful,” Ari said. “I’ve lived on a campus for four years. Never had to mow the grass or shovel the snow.”

  “Where are you going to live now that you’re out of college?” Poppy asked. “Do you have a job lined up?”

  “I’m going to B.U. for a master’s in childhood education,” Ari said, pushing all thoughts of being pregnant out of her mind. “I’m not sure whether I’ll stay at home or get an apartment of my own. Where do you work, Poppy? I mean other than running the camp office.”

  Poppy leaned close. “I’ll tell you but you have to promise not to judge me. I’m an accountant. I do people’s taxes.”

  “Wow. You obviously like numbers.”

  “Love them. Stick me in an office with a pile of forms and I’m happy all day.”

  Ari laughed. “You have such a great family.”

  “I think it’s fortunate that we’re all cousins. We don’t carry the childhood resentments that siblings do.”

  “It’s impressive that Cal’s going to be a minister.”

  “I suppose. But he’s not the old hellfire and damnation sort of pastor. Our family, from our great-grandparents on, have always been interested in what they used to call ‘good works.’ ”

  “That’s why you run Beach Camp.”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, all the money our family once had has dwindled over the years and we can’t do as much as we’d like, but we do what we can.” Before Ari could answer, Poppy laughed. “Oh, Lord, now I sound absolutely puritanical. Maybe I should talk about my sex life. Or Cal’s.”

  Ari gazed down into her drink. “That’s not my favorite subject these days.”

  “Oh?” Poppy said.

  For a moment, Ari wanted to confide in this smart, kind young woman about her pregnancy, but no, Ari wasn’t ready yet. “I just broke off with my fiancé,” Ari said.

  “Oh, dear. Is he heartbroken?”

  Ari snorted. “He’s certainly angry.”

  She was glad when Sandy came up to them, offering them plates of blueberry cheesecake. “Do either of you want coffee?” she asked.

  “Thanks, Sandy, but I’m fine without it,” Ari said.

  “I don’t need any, either, but thanks, Sandy,” Poppy said. She turned back to Ari. “What are you doing with your weekend?”

  “I’m spending time with friends,” Ari told her, thinking of Beck and Hen.

  Ari saw Eleanor approach.

  “I hate to say this, Ari, but I’m beginning to fade.”

  The two women said goodbye to everyone and walked around the side of the house to Ari’s car.

  “I’m sorry to drag you away from the party,” Eleanor said as they sat in the car, buckling their seatbelts.

  “Did you have fun?”

  “Yes, very much. I admire the Marshalls and their benevolence. They were interesting and fun, and even if Cal is a minister, he’s not all pious and preachy.”

  “I agree,” Ari said. She slid her car from between two other cars and began the drive back home.

  Eleanor shifted in her seat to face Ari. “I’m grateful to be invited there. I don’t get the opportunity to be around young people very often.”

  “We’ll do it again,” Ari promised.

  “We should have them out to the house for our own cookout,” Eleanor said. She leaned against the side of the door, pleasantly tired. “We’ll invite them, and also I’ll ask Silas and you can ask Beck.”

  “I’ve got to deal with a few other things first,” Ari murmured.

  Fourteen

  The weekend went by too fast. Saturday was so much fun, seeing the movie with Hen and Beck, going for ice cream afterward, strolling around town people-watching. Ari was disappointed when Beck said he had to return to Plymouth for an emergency on Sunday, but he promised to call. Sunday it rained, and Ari was glad. She slept late, caught up on laundry and emails to friends, and made lobster macaroni and cheese for herself and Eleanor. As if by tacit agreement, they didn’t talk about Ari’s pregnancy or her father’s affair.

  At camp Monday morning, Ari had trouble concentrating. As she played water volleyball with the children, she was entranced by their silliness, their giggles, their whoops—their sheer pleasure in being alive. Each child, pale or dark or freckled, was beautiful, and Ari couldn’t help wondering what her child would be like. Then she’d remind herself that the baby was Peter’s, too, and she had to talk to him, and she had to talk to her mother about her father, and it was all so impossibly difficult she almost cried.

  That evening, when she returned home from the camp, she told Eleanor she wouldn’t have dinner. She needed to sleep. She fell into bed at six o’clock and didn’t wake up for twelve hours. Her hair was still sticky from yesterday’s sandy water and she was wearing yesterday’s clothes. It seemed to take all the energy she possessed to force herself into the shower.

  When, teeth brushed, hair washed, clothes fresh, Ari walked into the kitchen, she found Eleanor there.

  Ari managed to smile. “I’m sorry about last night.”

  “Nonsense.” Eleanor handed Ari a go-cup of hot ginger tea and a cinnamon bun wrapped in a napkin. “Tonight we’re going to Madaket to get takeout from Millie’s and walk on the beach.”

  Surprised, Ari laughed. “Great idea, Gram. But what brought this on?”

  “I haven’t seen the other end of the island for weeks.”

  Ari laughed. “You make it sound as if Madaket is miles away.”

  “Well, it is.”

  “Yeah, not even ten,” Ari scoffed, but she smiled as she left the house.

  * * *

  —

  Ari drove home after camp. Her grandmother wanted to drive her Range Rover and Ari wanted to fetch a sweater in case it got breezy.

  “Here you are!” Eleanor was waiting by the open hatch of her car. “I’ve put a bottle of lemonade in ice in the cooler. I’ve wrapped the glasses in towels—it spoils the taste to drink lemonade out of paper cups.”

  “You’re the best,” Ari said. She ran through the house to get a sweater, left the house, and jumped into the Rover.

  “Perfect evening,” Eleanor said as she drove.

  “Yes,” Ari agreed, biting her tongue so she wouldn’t say that actually it wasn’t perfect for her.

  They passed the golf course, Sesachacha Pond, houses grand and modest, and all of the land bursting with green. Eleanor looked over at Ari, who was relaxing against the window.

  “How was your day?” Eleanor asked.

  “Wonderful and exhausting,” Ari said. “I love those children, but I can’t imagine how anyone has enough energy to be a mother twenty-four seven.”

  “Most mothers don’t have fifteen children,” Eleanor reminded her.

  “How’s Silas?” Ari asked.

  “He’s fine.” Eleanor smiled. “We went to lunch in town today and to a lecture at the library about whales and sharks and other things hiding down in the watery depths. Did you know that killer whales don’t kill people? They kill other whales. Terrible creatures, actually, they prey on baby whales. And they’re so cute with their black-and-white skins. Or is it hides? What is it with sea creatures?”

  “I know whales are mammals because they have live births,” Ari said. Oh, no, she secretly moaned, would her every thought be about birth?

  They went through the residential area of town and turned onto Madaket Road. As they passed Crooked Lane, the street leading to the animal hospital, a blue convertible with a man at the steering wheel and a young woman in the passenger seat approached the intersection and stopped at the sign.

  “Gram!” Ari cried. “I think that was Dad in the car!”

  “I know.” Looking in her rearview mirror, Eleanor saw the convertible turn toward town. Without hesitation, Eleanor braked, turned into the first empty driveway, did a pivot turn, and sped to catch up with the car.

  Ari clutched her seatbelt. “Gram, wait, what are you doing?”

  “I want to be certain I saw what I think I did.” Eleanor’s hands were clutched tightly on the wheel.

  “If that really is Dad,” Ari said, her voice trembling, “what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know yet. I haven’t had a chance to think it through. Don’t worry, I won’t cause a scene.”

  They followed the blue convertible as it wound through the narrow village lanes out past the Stop & Shop and onto Fairgrounds Road. The convertible turned onto Dionis Beach Road. Eleanor did, too, keeping her distance. She didn’t want her son-in-law to spot her, and Phillip knew her car well, although the island was packed with Range Rovers.

  “There,” Ari said.

  The blue convertible pulled into the drive of a sweet little Cape with blue shutters, a blue door, and window boxes spilling with pansies.