“She did use the bathroom,” Ariel said, laughing, “so she’s certainly had her initiation.”

  “All in favor?” Nick asked with fake pompousness.

  Everyone raised his or her cone. “Aye!”

  “It’s unanimous,” Nick said. He shook Francine’s hand. “Welcome to the most specialized club in America.”

  “I’m honored,” Francine said.

  They laughed together, and that night they felt together, people at the beginning of an adventure, beautiful people who drew envious looks, happy people sharing this romantic moment in time.

  When the town clock at the Unitarian church struck ten, Nick said, “I should go home. I have to be up and out the door by eight tomorrow morning.”

  “So do I,” Ariel said.

  “Walk me home,” Francine said softly to Nick. “It’s nearby, on Upper Main Street.”

  “Sure.” Nick took Francine’s hand, and everyone said goodbye.

  And Sheila knew that Ariel and Wyatt would want some time to walk and talk and kiss without her trailing behind.

  “You two go ahead,” Sheila said. “I’d like to sit here awhile longer.”

  After the others left, Sheila did sit alone on a bench by the water, but she didn’t feel sad. Really, she was still riding high from Francine’s attention, from the sense of friendship they all shared that evening. She’d not had much of that in her life. Oh, she’d always had a best friend, but Sheila had never been a cheerleader, or part of a choral group or band. She’d never been to a sleepaway camp because her parents couldn’t afford it. She worked all during high school and college, mostly at the Cleveland Renaissance. She was friendly with the other housekeeping staff, but they never saw each other outside of work. She’d gone to parties. She was pretty, she knew that, and she was always invited to lots of parties, and she’d had fun, but she’d never been part of a group. Tonight, sitting with her friends on an island, Sheila was warm and happy and more hopeful than she’d ever been.

  * * *

  —

  When Ariel and Wyatt arrived at the Sand Palace, Ariel said, “It seems a shame to have to go to bed so early.”

  They sat together on the bench in the forgotten garden where flowers grew among the weeds. Wyatt put his arm around Ariel and drew her close.

  “When I was young,” Wyatt said, “I’d lie in our yard in the dark and look up at the stars.”

  “You are a secret romantic,” Ariel murmured.

  “More romantic than a scientist should be,” Wyatt said. “If you meet my father, you’d know what a true scientist is like.”

  “The important thing to me is that I met you, Wyatt,” Ariel said softly.

  Wyatt shifted uncomfortably. He felt like a traitor if his father was criticized in any way.

  “My father is a great man,” Wyatt said.

  Ariel yawned. “I’m sure he is. And now I need to go to bed. I’ve got work tomorrow.” She rose and walked away. Over her shoulder, she said, “Good night.”

  * * *

  —

  Nick’s shift at Fanshaw’s ended at five and Steve Stapleton took over for the evening. In August the men’s clothing store stayed open until eleven. Nick had done the evening shifts a few times and was impressed at the amount of business done then. People came from dinners all rosy-cheeked and convivial, “just looking,” they said, and they’d buy shirts and golf shorts and butter-soft wallets and navy blazers, running up five-thousand-dollar bills without blinking an eye.

  He was behind the counter of watches and wallets when Jean-Paul Bruel walked in. He had been in before, when Nick didn’t know who he was. Bruel was always impeccably dressed in a three-piece suit, no matter how hot the weather was, and no one wore a three-piece suit on Nantucket unless they were going to court.

  “I think you are Nick,” Mr. Bruel exclaimed, coming up to the counter. “You are the man my daughter told me about?”

  Nick’s heart raced. The man standing before him was everything Nick wanted to be: a wealthy, cosmopolitan hotelier who was at home anywhere in the world.

  Nick extended his hand. “I hope I am that man, Mr. Bruel. I certainly am Nick.”

  “In that case, please join me for a drink,” Mr. Bruel said. “I would like to talk with you. Perhaps make a proposition…a job offer.”

  Nick hesitated. During college, he’d worked nights at the Ritz Boston. After the summer, he was to work there again, starting off as clerk, with the position of hotel manager eventually assured.

  Still, Jean-Paul Bruel was here in real life, offering a drink and a proposition!

  Nick checked his watch. “I’m off work at five. Is that too early for a drink?”

  Mr. Bruel laughed. “It is never too early for a drink.”

  Steve Stapleton entered from the back. He had obviously just showered. His hair showed comb tracks and his face was strawberry-red.

  “Day at the beach?” Nick asked.

  Steve groaned. “I fell asleep in the sun.”

  Nick laughed. “Are you okay to take over?”

  “I’m fine,” Steve said.

  Nick often stayed to chat with Steve about the store, their customers, beach parties they’d heard were on for that night, and women, but this evening Nick said, “Steve, I’ve got to leave now. See you tomorrow.”

  Outside the shop, Mr. Bruel said, “It is nice to drink in the open air as we do in Europe, so we could go to the Boarding House, but today is extremely hot. The Tap Room is a brief walk away, and it is air-conditioned. Much better for concentration.”

  Once seated in the dimly lit, brick-walled room, they ordered their drinks—Mr. Bruel a Pernod, Nick a dry martini.

  “I will not waste your time,” Mr. Bruel began. “I own a line of luxury-class hotels.”

  “Hotel Rex,” Nick said. He had done his homework. He’d spent hours in the library, researching the clients of Fanshaw’s.

  “Indeed. I am in the process of building more hotels, and I need an assistant manager for the hotel in New York. I like the cut of your jib. That is how you put it on Nantucket, yes?”

  Nick had never heard anyone say that, but he was not going to argue.

  Mr. Bruel continued, “You went to college in Boston, I believe.”

  Nick’s heart thumped. “Yes. My father was a history professor in Boston.”

  “Your father taught history at the Williamstown High School,” Mr. Bruel corrected. “We need to be accurate when talking with each other, no?”

  “Absolutely.” Nick had been foolish to think for even one moment that Bruel had not done as much background checking on him as Nick had done on Bruel.

  “How many languages do you speak?” Mr. Bruel asked.

  “Only two, I’m afraid. English and French.”

  “No Russian?”

  “I could buy a bottle of vodka,” Nick joked.

  “You Americans. So proud to be so ignorant.” Mr. Bruel held up his hand. “Wait, I apologize. I did not mean to say ignorant. Anyway, let’s move on. You have the right personality and intelligence to run a hotel. You have charisma. But you need more specific information. You will need a few months working with my hotel manager in New York. I assume you are free to leave Nantucket on September first.”

  “Are you offering me a position?” Nick asked.

  “I am offering you a chance to earn that position. Appearance and charm can go far, but you need knowledge, and I’ve watched you. You learn quickly.”

  Nick took a long time to sip his martini. Did he really want to give up his position at the Ritz? But to be on the ladder at Bruel’s hotel was an incredible opportunity, leapfrogging several rungs up.

  “This is very appealing,” Nick said. “Would I be paid for my work with your hotel manager?”

  “But of course!” Mr. Bruel made a gesture with his hand as if letting a bird fly free. “You would need to work hard, but I think you are a quick study. I think you might be exactly what I want.”

  “Then I’d be delighted to work for you.”

  “I, also, am delighted. I’ll be in touch with details. I’ll send you a check to cover your transfer to New York and all such pedestrian matters.”

  “Mr. Bruel, sir, I am honored.” And he was, Nick thought. He really was. This might be the offer he’d been working toward. Dreaming toward.

  fourteen

  This Summer

  Penny woke with a dry mouth and a pounding headache, but a long shower and several cups of in-room coffee brought her back to normal.

  Her phone pinged. Liam had texted: Good morning Penny see you at the dock in thirty?

  She texted back a thumbs-up emoji. Tapping her weather app, she saw that the day would be hot and sunny, with winds at twenty miles per hour. Not perfect, but nice.

  Her family had never been much for sailing, or any sport that didn’t involve a ball. But she’d gone sailing on Lake Erie with friends and drifting on a pontoon boat on the Lake of the Ozarks with Jason and his parents. She slipped on a bikini, a long sweatshirt, short shorts, and deck shoes, pulled her hair back into a ponytail, gathered her ball cap, phone, and room key, and went down to the bistro. It was almost ten o’clock, and all the bacon and eggs were gone, but Penny found a lovely chocolate croissant and a tall glass of cranberry juice.

  She knew that the oldies were off touring museums today. After she’d left the hotel, she texted her mother and Jade-Marie that she was going sailing with Liam.

  * * *

  —

  At the dock, Penny found Liam waiting on the launch. When she boarded, he held out his hand to help her, and kissed her cheek.

  “It’s nice to see you,” Liam said.

  Penny grinned, as if they had a secret, and she thought they did, one they shared, one they would show each other. “Nice to see you.”

  They didn’t talk as they were motored out to Liam’s boat, and once on the boat, she did what she could to help make the boat ready to sail.

  Finally, they were driven by a lazy wind from the harbor out into the seemingly endless blue waters of Nantucket Sound.

  “We’re going up to Great Point,” Liam told Penny. “Where we went the other night.”

  “Isn’t that where the seals congregate?” Penny peeled off her sweatshirt and shorts and slathered sunblock on her legs and arms and face.

  “We won’t get that close to the point itself. I have an Ocearch shark tracker app on my phone. We’re good.”

  The day was glorious. The wind picked up out on the sound, and they went at a steady clip through the blue water, beneath the cloudless blue sky. Other sailors were out, and they saw in the distance the distinct shape of fishing boats.

  They didn’t talk while they sailed. It was enough to simply be there, hearing the splash of the water against the hull and the whipping of the sail in the wind, feeling the boat rock and the sun warming her body, smelling the fresh salt air. After a while, Liam dropped the sails and let down the anchor.

  “Let’s swim,” he said.

  “Okay,” Penny answered, hiding her nervousness.

  She dove into the water, immediately aware of the salt stinging her eyes. Instinctively, she swam back up to the surface and treaded water, gasping from the cold, checking to be certain she was close to the boat.

  Liam came near and shouted, “Okay?”

  “Okay!” she answered.

  “I’ll be back,” Liam yelled. He struck off in a rhythmic crawl away from the shore.

  For a while, Penny bobbed in place, admiring him. He was fast and steady and he made it look so easy, she thought he could swim to Hyannis. She didn’t feel so at home in the water. Part of her was still nervous, but she made herself free-stroke away from the boat to prove to herself she was brave, and she wished she could put a marker to show Liam how far she’d gone. Occasionally the wake from other boats splashed her in the face. For a moment fear seized her as the water rocked her one way and another and she realized no one could see her and help her if she yelled. She used the fear to fuel her energy to swim back to the boat. When she had hold of the boat’s ladder, she dangled in the water, catching her breath, and for only a moment, she felt exhilarated, ready to go out again.

  Huffing and puffing, she pulled herself up into the boat, shedding water as she went. She sat on the bench and squeezed the water from her hair, patted her face dry, and put on more sunblock. Exhausted and pleased with herself, she climbed onto the bow, stretched out, and napped.

  It had taken her years to feel comfortable in a bathing suit around other people. Bikini or Speedo, her body was so revealed. Every freckle, mole, and birthmark right out there for anyone to see. Four years of long soul-searching talks with the women she came to know at college had helped her take pride in herself, however she was. She was also toughened by having three brothers in the house, overhearing the various ways they talked about girls.

  Liam was older than her brothers, obviously. He seemed content with himself. At home in his skin.

  She heard him arrive back in the boat, towel off his hair, and then there he was, water sparkling from his arms and chest, and she thought how very handsome he was.

  “Want a Coke?” he asked.

  “Sure.” She sat up and watched him go to the cooler, lift out two Cokes, and bring them back. He sat on the bow with her. “Thanks,” she told him.

  “You’re welcome.” Liam put his hand on her knee. “I’d like to take you on a longer trip. Up the coast to New Brunswick and the Bay of Fundy where gems lie among the rocks in the mud when the tide is out. Or down the coast, to Florida where the manatees live.”

  Penny couldn’t breathe. This man and his world were past her imagining.

  “I’d bring you back here, of course,” Liam said teasingly.

  “I don’t know if I’m brave enough for a trip like that,” she managed to say.

  “Understood. Let’s start with a short sail to Boston. If you’d like, we could make it an overnight stay.”

  “Where would we…sleep?”

  “I have a cabin below deck. It’s got a nice big bed, and a small kitchen, big enough for morning coffee. We could take cheese and bread and champagne.”

  “Champagne?”

  “To celebrate your first adventure. Later, if you enjoyed sailing, we could go down the coast and see new sights, new coastlines. I could catch sea bass and cook them for us. You could see porpoises and whales. At night, we’d lie on the bow and look up at the stars. It makes you believe in magic, seeing all those stars from the ocean. It makes you believe in God.”

  “You make me believe in Fate,” Penny told him, and she was privately proud of herself for saying something clever. “How soon would we go?”

  “Today? Tonight?”

  Penny almost choked on her Coke. She cleared her throat. “But I think I want to get a job here,” Penny told Liam. “I’ve talked to Jade-Marie about it and she said it’s a possibility. It’s only June. The stores need help.”

  “If there’s a job waiting for you, it will still be here in a couple of days,” Liam said.

  This was getting real. “I…I should check with my mom.”

  “How old are you?” Liam asked, smiling to show he wasn’t being mean.

  “Well, I can’t just vanish! I’m supposed to be enjoying Nantucket and we came on this trip together.” Penny huffed, and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “It will be a twenty-four-hour trip. We’ll have Wi-Fi connection all the way there and back. You’ll see the coast of Massachusetts.”

  “And we’ll sleep on the boat?” Penny asked.

  “We’ll sleep on the boat,” Liam told her. Rising easily, he held out his hand. “Come with me. I’ll show you the cabin.”

  * * *

  —

  Thursday morning, Jason allowed himself one of his grizzly-bear deep, long sleeps. In high school, he could stay in bed until afternoon, coming out of his bedroom with a scratchy beard and body odor his mom said she could smell three rooms away. Since graduating from college, Jason spent the days in bed as long as he could, wanting to avoid his father.

  His dad accused him of “being good at avoiding things” and Jason knew that was true. Mostly he wanted to avoid any awareness of his life choices. He should just surrender to his father’s wish and slot himself into the science conveyor belt.

  But that was not what he wanted to do. He could never surpass his father, and he didn’t even want to try. He didn’t want to see life through test tubes and equations, passing his days and nights inside of textbooks. He’d tried to explain to his parents why he wanted to live somewhere else, at least try living somewhere else. When he spoke about his plans, his father got impatient and angry and his mother spent all her time soothing his father. Now that he was here, away from the university and coursework and tests and computer graphics, now that he could see how normal life could be lived, he knew he seriously needed to make that break with his parents.

  Finally, about two, Jason got up, showered, and dressed. When he got to the lobby, no one except the receptionist was there. The bistro was closed. He had no messages on his phone. A rush of guilt ran through him—had he forgotten to show up for something? He stepped out into the day. The sky was sunny, with a light breeze drifting through the air. He walked down to the strip, bought himself a slice of pizza and a Coke, and sat on a bench on Easy Street, watching the boats come and go in the harbor.

  He liked the action of all the boats. The hulking car ferry, the trim schooners, the ostentatious yachts, the authentic fishing trawlers. His dad had told him that he’d worked at Cabot’s Marine that summer on Nantucket, and Jason had seen it just yesterday on his walk back to the hotel. It was only five minutes away.