“So,” Barrett said slowly, as if figuring out a puzzle, “you and Janny and Drew and his date?”

  “You know.” Paul turned to Barrett as he spoke. “I didn’t want to take Janny. I wanted to take you.”

  Barrett sat there, confused and elated. Paul wants to be with me.

  “I’m going to another gala in a few weeks,” Paul continued. “A benefit for the Nantucket Safe Harbor for Animals auction. It’s at the Nantucket Yacht Club this year. Cocktails, lots of hors d’oeuvres, live music, and a silent auction. Starts at six, goes till eight. Would you come with me?”

  Barrett heard herself reply almost before she thought of her answer. “I’d love to,” she said. “If Janny can’t work for me that night, I’ll close the shop.”

  After Paul went back to work, Barrett was glad to be busy. Her emotions were in turmoil. Drew had taken another woman to the gala and then had picked up Barrett after the gala for a booty call? She needed to talk to Eddie. And really, she needed to talk with Drew.

  * * *

  —

  Eddie was enjoying the summer more than she’d imagined possible. She held the fort at home. She bought groceries, made crockpot meals so anyone could eat at any time, stocked the refrigerator with watermelon, seedless grapes, and lemonade. Some evenings, she accompanied Dinah to dinner and a concert or play and on a rare occasion, she coaxed her father into going with them. She ran into old acquaintances—could she call them friends if she’d only been on the island for one year?—and went to their barbecue parties. Some evenings she spent with Jeff, and those were the loveliest times of all.

  During July, the island reached its peak population of summer people as well as its fiercest heat. The island’s narrow and often one-way roads were crowded with Mercedes SUVs, Range Rovers, Toyota Land Cruisers, and every kind of van known to mankind. Summer people without helmets steered bikes in and out of traffic, disregarding stop signs, or strolled in front of moving cars as if cars didn’t exist on Nantucket. People honked, yelled, and cursed. The valiant drivers of UPS and FedEx delivery trucks rumbled along the streets without plowing into the convertibles that ignored the signs and zipped in front of them.

  And yet, Eddie realized she was happy. This traffic was nothing compared to New York. Once she turned off Main Street or went around the rotary onto Milestone Road, she headed for secluded places, like the moors in the middle of the island. Here, the dirt paths winding between green fields were bumpy and curvy, and surrounded by heath, ivy, beach plum bushes, and flowers so small they could make a bouquet for a doll. She often ate her lunch sitting by the “Doughnut Pond,” a hidden round pond with a round island in the middle. There it was so quiet, she could hear birds calling and watch iridescent blue dragonflies flitting near her. Rare, endangered wood lilies, their orange petals speckled with black dots, grew for only a few weeks a year, mostly hidden in the high grass and blueberry bushes.

  This was an area she hadn’t known about during her first year on the island. She hiked up and down the low hills, surprised at all the various shades of green and the enticing wink of blue water from small nearby ponds. This was an island of peace in the middle of Nantucket, and it spoke to her, it enchanted her.

  Best of all, at night, when the others were in bed, Eddie sat at her computer and spent time with her secret love. As she wrote, her worries and hopes for her life disappeared. As she struggled to delve deep into her heart to find the words she needed for this fictional life, she sensed she was creating new possibilities for her real life. When she wrote, it was like finding her way through a dark tunnel toward the light, and it changed, brightened, clarified, how she was finding her way through her own life. Also, what she wrote was becoming its own separate thing, as if she was weaving with words and creating something that hadn’t existed before.

  Today, she opened the Book Barn and picked some of her zinnias to put in the barn and another bunch to put in the kitchen. Barrett was at her shop, Jeff was working. Her father was standing at the kitchen counter, eating peanut butter and crackers.

  “Is that your lunch?” Eddie asked him.

  “Mmm.” William drank a sip of water. “I’m thinking.”

  “Dad, let me make you a sandwich.”

  “Thanks, but this is good. I need to get back to work.” He gave her a rare smile and returned to his study.

  Eddie strolled out to the mailbox at the end of the drive. Duke was lying in the shade of the porch and only thumped his tail as a greeting. The mailbox was stuffed. Eddie realized that she and her family had gotten lax about checking it. Everyone sent emails or texts these days and Eddie paid bills online.

  She carried the pile of catalogs and envelopes into the house, set it all on the dining room table, and started sorting it out. It was mostly junk, but one envelope was addressed by hand. Eddie’s heart stopped.

  It was a letter, addressed to Eddie and Barrett, from Dove.

  Eddie couldn’t wait until Barrett was home to read the letter. She ripped open the envelope.

  Hi, Barrett and Eddie, I hope you got my email. Bobby and I are on our way to visit you. I’m not sure when we’ll get there. I have a health problem that will slow me down. But Bobby’s very healthy. I can’t wait to see you all and especially for you to meet Bobby. He is a little Stearns.

  Remembering the happy times we had when we were kids.

  XO D

  “What!” Eddie yelled. She stood up, then sat down again. She was thrilled and furious and excited. She felt like she was going to explode.

  What should she do? What could she do? She’d tried Instagram, Threads, Facebook, even Google, but she couldn’t find any mention of Dove Fletcher. Eddie had also tried Dove Grant, in case her brother and Dove had gotten married and hadn’t bothered to tell them. It was the sort of thing Stearns would have done. But no Dove Grant showed up.

  She needed to talk this over with Barrett. Should she tell her father now? Eddie knew she was too emotional. She returned to the kitchen just in time to see a carload of people headed for the Book Barn. Eddie stuck the letter in the cloth napkin drawer and went out to the barn.

  * * *

  —

  Eddie decided to make a special meal for Barrett when she returned home after closing her shop. She wanted Barrett calm and relaxed before she showed her the letter Dove had sent. Barrett loved having breakfast for dinner, so Eddie made blueberry pancakes and piles of perfectly browned bacon and poured Vermont maple syrup from a can into a small glass pitcher.

  Barrett walked into the house, dropped her bag on the front hall table, and entered the kitchen.

  “What smells so good?” she asked.

  Eddie couldn’t help it. She was very pleased with herself.

  “Sit down. I’ve made a special dinner just for you.”

  Eddie slid two pancakes onto a plate, added a pile of bacon, and set it in front of Barrett. “Butter and syrup right here. What would you like to drink?”

  “Oh, my God, Eddie! You did this for me?” Barrett burst into tears.

  “Hey, hey, Barrett, what’s wrong?”

  “Oh, nothing, really. I’m just tired. This is just so great of you, Eddie.”

  Eddie sat at the other end of the table, idly folding napkins, chatting about nothing important, watching Barrett eat like a starving woman.

  When Barrett had done everything but lick the plate clean, Eddie rose to get her sister a glass of cold water.

  “Now,” Eddie said. “Did you have a bad day?”

  Barrett sipped her water and sighed as she leaned back against her chair.

  “Not really. I mean, the shop was really ticking over today. And people were so complimentary. It’s just…oh, you know, man trouble.”

  Eddie set her elbow on the table and cradled her chin in her hand.

  “Tell me.”

  Barrett blurted, “Drew took another woman to the gala!”

  Thank heavens she hadn’t told her sister about Dove’s letter. “How do you know?”

  “Paul told me. He took Janny, even though he asked me first. In front of Paul, Janny reminded me that I had a date with Drew that night. She slimed her way into getting Paul to take her. Then when I thought Drew was taking me, he told me he had to go with his parents. But today I learned that Drew had a date!”

  “Oh, Care Bear, that’s awful.” Eddie wanted to race out of the house, find Drew Fischer, and slug him in the nose.

  “It gets worse. Saturday night, Drew called me after the gala and asked me to go to the beach with him, and he wanted…” Barrett choked on her words.

  Eddie prompted, “And did you?”

  “No! I’m not an idiot. Or maybe I am. We were at the beach by the Creeks, and he kissed me, and he tried to…and I pushed him away.”

  “How did he react?”

  “He was annoyed. It was awkward. But, Eddie, I’m angry at Drew, but at the same time, I want him to like me.” Barrett shook her head. “I am an idiot.”

  Eddie was puzzled. When they were younger, she could always comfort Barrett with something sweet. A lollipop. Ice cream. But nothing sweet would taste good after the pool of maple syrup Barrett had devoured.

  And Barrett was no longer a child, Eddie reasoned. “Barrett, it seems to me that Drew is pretty much playing around with you. I mean, how sleazy is he to take someone else to the gala and then try to mess around with you?”

  Barrett sniffed back her tears. “I think he’s just really busy.”

  “And you believe that.”

  Barrett’s mouth bunched up like it did whenever she was arguing. “I don’t know what to believe.” She carried her plate to the sink. “Thanks for the dinner. I’m going to shower and go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

  “Okay,” Eddie said to the empty room. She didn’t show Barrett Dove’s letter, and maybe that was a good thing. Barrett had enough to deal with today. Eddie rinsed Barrett’s dishes and put them in the dishwasher, and checked the kitchen.

  That was the thing about family, she thought as she climbed the stairs to her own room. Eddie was afraid Drew would break Barrett’s heart. And Eddie could do nothing about that.

  fourteen

  Tuesday Barrett left early for her shop. She didn’t wait for breakfast—she’d had breakfast last night. It was quiet in town, the world just waking up. The farm trucks carrying leafy lettuces, heirloom tomatoes, and little potatoes were parked on Main Street. A few people ambled into the Hub and came out with a newspaper and a coffee. Restaurant workers biked into town, jolting over the cobblestones. The low hoot of a ferry horn announced that it was coming around Brant Point. Seagulls patrolled the boardwalk on Straight Wharf, waiting for crumbs. The sun was strong. The day was hot. Maybe too hot for people to go to the beach?

  Her shop was an oasis of freshness. She congratulated herself on naming it Nantucket Blues, because blue signified cool, and she knew people would flock to her shop today.

  At noon, Janny showed up, carrying an iced mocha cappuccino for Barrett. They chatted and unpacked new deliveries, and as Barrett had expected, they spent the day waiting on customers who lingered in the shop and bought several things, as if they could carry the icy air home with them.

  During a lull, Janny asked teasingly, “Well, how are things going with my brother?”

  Barrett had been placing a blue glass starfish on a soft bed of white cotton. She didn’t react immediately, turning the starfish this way and that to catch the light.

  “Fine,” Barrett replied.

  Just then, two women entered the shop. Thank heavens, Barrett thought. She was in no mood to talk to Drew’s sister.

  The day had grown cloudy, with a feisty west wind that sent people’s bags, caps, and toys flying. Barrett was pleased to be crazy busy in the afternoon. A mob of teenage girls came in, cooing and giggling about the jewelry. A flustered young mother holding a small cranky child by the hand bumbled around, picking up things and putting them back in the wrong place. Barrett nudged Janny to get out on the floor and ask if she could help the woman. Men came in to buy their wives and daughters gifts and wanted them wrapped with a great big bow.

  In the midst of it all, Drew called.

  “I’m hoping you could close early so I could see you. I’ve got to fly back to Boston tonight. Couldn’t you close your shop at seven? Just this once? Please?”

  A spark of anger flared in Barrett’s chest because Drew considered his work more important than hers.

  “I’d really like to see you,” Drew continued, his voice low and compelling.

  She might as well go, Barrett thought, and her emotions were all over the place.

  * * *

  —

  Eddie walked around the Book Barn, filling in the empty spots on the shelves. An older couple came, purchased a few old science books, and left. A young mother with a baby in a back carrier and a three-year-old tugging on her hand arrived. The three-year-old was obviously hot and bored. Instead of sitting on the small child’s chair by the children’s books, he ran past the shelves, pulling the books to the floor and yelling like a banshee. When the mother told him he could choose one book, he flung himself onto the floor in a tantrum of resistance. He wanted more!

  The kid could use a cold shower, Eddie thought, but she had great sympathy for the mother, who was trying to calm down her son while her baby woke up and screamed.

  The woman’s eyes were wild. “I…I have to go to the car to nurse my baby,” she told Eddie.

  “Sit in that chair,” Eddie told her. “No one else is around. I’ll help your little boy choose books.”

  The woman collapsed in the chair with the baby at her breast. Eddie sat on the floor next to the child who had gone quiet at her presence.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Timmy,” he said.

  “Timmy, you see all these books you’ve pulled on the floor?”

  Timmy’s eyes welled. “Sowwy.”

  “Here’s the deal. Do you see that house over there with steps to the flowers in a pot? If you can run there and back in the time I count to ten, I’ll give you two of these books to take home.”

  Before she could start counting, Timmy raced off and back.

  She made the bargain three more times, and when Timmy returned, panting, Eddie leaned toward him and whispered, “See those pretty red flowers in the pots? Pick off two to give to your mother. Don’t worry. More will grow.”

  So the family left with a well-fed baby snoring in the back carrier, Timmy with eight children’s books in his hands, and the mother holding two geranium stems with bright red flowers.

  “This is the best rest I’ve had this year,” she told Eddie. “How can I thank you?”

  “It was fun,” Eddie told her, and she meant it.

  * * *

  —

  A few days later, Eddie turned on the HVAC, to hell with the electric bill. She worked in the house, choosing more books to put in the barn. Duke lay asleep on the back porch, knocked out by the heat. The arrogant horse spent the day nibbling the grass in the shade of the barn and Eddie was diligent about filling the horse’s water trough.

  Her father was secluded in his office, Barrett was in her shop, and Dinah was at the library, when Eddie heard the crackle of shells and peered out the window to see a car she didn’t recognize coming up the driveway. She went out the back door and walked to the Book Barn.

  The car was an ancient Volvo, so dented and scraped Eddie was amazed it still ran.

  A woman stepped out of the car. For a moment, Eddie thought it was Dove…She hadn’t seen her since before Bobby was born and Stearns died.

  A child climbed out of the backseat and went to stand with his mother, holding hands.

  “Eddie,” the woman called. “Hi.”

  “Dove? Is that you?” Eddie walked toward the woman, and it was as if she were walking through a garden, as if joy, grief, love, and guilt were petals brushing against her skin.

  “It’s me.”

  Dove came closer, still holding the child’s hand. The little boy was three years old and looked like Stearns. Goosebumps broke out all over her skin.

  Eddied summoned up all the courage she possessed to ask lightly, “And who is this?”

  “This is Bobby,” Dove said. She grinned. “Like Robert Frost, only younger.”

  Eddie dropped to her knees so that she was on eye level with the child. “Hi, Bobby.”

  Bobby clung to his mother’s hand. He wore a striped rugby shirt, blue shorts, and sandals. His hair was the color of caramel, and his eyes were pale green, like Stearns’s, like Eddie’s and Barrett’s, like William’s. But the child’s face had his own beauty. She didn’t know if she could ever stop looking at him.

  A sob rose in Eddie’s chest. She swallowed it, pretending she was sneezing, and forced the tears back. She faced the child with a smile.

  “Bobby, I’m your aunt Eddie. I’m so happy to see you.”

  The little boy looked up at his mother. Dove squatted down.

  “That’s right, sweetie. I’ve told you about Aunt Eddie, and here she is.”

  Dove had told Bobby about Eddie? She’d told him Eddie was his aunt?

  Duke woke from his deep sleep on the back porch to lazily saunter down to the driveway to investigate.

  Bobby yelled, “Dog!” and ran toward Duke.

  Dove cautioned, “Be careful, Bobby. Just hold out your hand.”

  “It’s all right,” Eddie assured him. “His name is Duke. He won’t bite. He’s curious. Your mommy’s right. Hold out your hand and let him smell it.”

  Bobby screeched to a halt two feet from Duke and held out his hand. Duke came nearer, stretched out his neck, and sniffed. He wagged his tail and did something astonishing. He moved right up to Bobby, sat down next to him, and leaned against him.