“Wyatt?” Ariel prompted.

  “You can write anywhere,” he said. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m sure they’ve got creative writing workshops at the University of Missouri. I thought…I want to get married right away. Get an apartment near the campus. I’ll work and you can stay home and write.”

  “Iowa’s program is prestigious,” Ariel said. She was on the point of tears. “It isn’t easy to get in.”

  “So it’s the prestige you want.”

  “No, Wyatt. Well, yes, of course, it might help when it comes time to try to sell a story or a book, but—”

  “Books can take years to write. The work my father and I are doing is of groundbreaking importance,” Wyatt said. Quietly, as if confessing a crime, he said, “Ariel. I need you.” He took her hand in his. “I can’t do it without you.”

  Ariel said nothing aloud, but her mind was racing. She could write at home. Writing a book could take years. Who was she to think she could ever get anything published? This summer, she’d seldom had time to write anything in her notebook. She was young. She needed to learn more, read more, write more, before trying to write a novel.

  And she did love Wyatt.

  “So you want to get married this fall?” she asked Wyatt quietly.

  “I want to get married tomorrow,” Wyatt joked, and now he looked at her, and his eyes were warm and loving.

  “Okay, then,” Ariel said. “I’ll write the director of the program to tell him I’m unable to attend the program because of an urgent family problem.”

  Wyatt put his arms around Ariel and held her close. “I’ll give you an urgent family problem.”

  Ariel laughed. “Let’s go home as soon as we can. Let’s tell our parents.”

  “Let’s get married,” Wyatt said.

  “Yes,” Ariel replied. “Let’s do that.”

  twenty-two

  This Summer

  At the restaurant, the ones left behind sat in confusion.

  “What was that about?” Penny asked.

  Wyatt responded with a shrug. “Women. Who can understand them?”

  “My mom worries that I’ll have a ‘summer love’ and get my heart broken,” Penny said.

  Francine smiled. “Oh, that happens to everyone.”

  “Mom worries about everything,” Penny mused aloud. “Especially when I’m driving a car. Look both ways! Don’t run a red light! Don’t text and drive. Sometimes she makes me crazy.”

  Nick said kindly, “I’m sure you make her crazy sometimes, too.”

  Wyatt was sulking. “Jason has definitely made me crazy. I can’t believe he’s giving up a prestigious scientific career to do manual labor.”

  Jason took a deep breath. “Dad, Don Cabot is a good guy. Smart. You know that. I know I can learn a lot from him when I work for him this summer.”

  “A lot about boats,” Wyatt shot back. “Nothing about science.”

  Francine said, “Not all children are fated to follow in their father’s footsteps.”

  “You can say that, Francine, because you have never had to worry about money or success.”

  “Did you envy me, Wyatt?” Francine aimed her charm at Jason’s father. “I envied you all. When you were living in the Sand Palace, you four had each other. You fought, sometimes, but you were like a club, a fellowship, living almost as a family. I didn’t choose to be wealthy. I had no idea the dinner I invited you to had aroused such strong feelings.”

  Wyatt couldn’t meet her eyes. “I apologize. I suppose I’ve felt guilty all these years because Nick asked to borrow three hundred dollars to take you to dinner, and I refused to loan it to him.”

  “Ooh-la-la!” Francine was completely surprised. “I never knew this.” She looked at her husband.

  Nick said, “I never told you. I was worried that I couldn’t give you the kind of life you already lived.”

  “Oh, my darling,” Francine said. “All I wanted was life with you.”

  Penny cried, “They’re coming back!”

  Everyone at the table watched as Sheila and Ariel cut their way between tables to return to their own party.

  “Sorry about that,” Ariel said smoothly. “Women’s problems.”

  “Are you okay, Mom?” Penny asked.

  “I’m fine. Sorry to leave so abruptly.” Sheila reached over to pat her daughter’s hand.

  Nick cleared his throat. “In that case, now that we’re all here…”

  He stood up. His curly black hair was glossy, his amber eyes almost the same color as his tan. He looked like a beautiful god.

  “Ariel, I have something for you,” he announced.

  Ariel blinked. “You do?”

  “I do. Something quite substantial, I think.”

  “Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it Superman?” Sheila joked.

  Nick took an envelope out of his breast pocket. He looked at Ariel, but he was well aware of the others watching him. “It’s a check for thirty thousand dollars.”

  “What?” Ariel lurched back, shocked.

  “We were just talking about it,” Nick said smoothly, smiling, “that summer in the Sand Palace. I asked Wyatt if I could borrow three hundred dollars so I could take Francine to a nice restaurant.”

  “And I refused,” Wyatt said forcefully.

  “But your wife didn’t,” Nick told him. “Of course, she wasn’t your wife then.”

  “Ariel?” Wyatt’s eyes flew to his wife.

  “Oh, this is silly,” Ariel said. “Nick, I’d forgotten all about that.”

  “You gave Nick three hundred dollars?” Wyatt’s face was stormy.

  Nick answered for Ariel. “She did. She left before I could pay her back, so I put three hundred dollars in a savings account. Later, I put it into stocks. This is what those three hundred dollars turned into over twenty-five years.”

  Wyatt shoved back from the table. “My wife does not need your money.”

  “Wyatt.” Ariel put a gentle hand on his arm.

  “Why don’t you let your wife decide,” Nick said. “She’s the one who loaned me the money.”

  Wyatt strode to the head of the table. Nick stood up, glaring. The two men scowled at each other.

  “You’re a social climber and a money-grubber,” Wyatt said.

  Nick’s mouth quirked in a half-smile. “Okay. But you are boring.”

  Wyatt’s face turned red. “I ought to—” He raised his fist.

  “I want the money.” Ariel rose from her chair. “I’ve been struggling to build an online club for aspiring writers. I want to attend more writers’ workshops and haven’t had the money. I deserve the money, Wyatt. I want it.”

  Wyatt froze. He turned to face his wife, and he looked completely confused, lost, like a man coming out of a coma.

  “You never told me you wanted to do that,” he said.

  “I did tell you. You didn’t hear.”

  Wyatt said, “You never told me you loaned Nick three hundred dollars.”

  “No,” Ariel said. “I didn’t tell you.”

  Nick folded his arms over his chest and stared at the floor, trying to keep a taunting expression off his face.

  Wyatt walked away from Nick, as if Nick didn’t matter. He stood before his wife, his beautiful and adoring wife, and he was humbled. “I’m sorry I didn’t hear you. I know I tend to have tunnel vision about my work.”

  “You’ll never change,” Ariel told her husband. “I don’t want you to. I’m proud of you, of the work you’re doing. But I deserve this money, and I want you to be proud of the work I can do.”

  Wyatt nodded. Ariel sat, and Wyatt took the chair next to her.

  Nick returned to his seat. He slid the envelope down to Francine, who passed it to Sheila, who passed it to Ariel. Ariel put it in the pocket of her capris.

  Wyatt grumbled, “Where’s the waiter? It’s time to go.”

  Jade-Marie kicked Jason’s foot under the table.

  Jason shared a glance with Jade-Marie. “We’re going to skip out now and leave you oldies with the check. It’s a beautiful night. We want to walk on the beach.”

  Nick said, “Wait, we’ll be ready as soon as—”

  Francine put her hand on his. “Darling, let them go.”

  * * *

  —

  The moment they were out of the restaurant, away from their parents, Jade-Marie twirled in a circle.

  “Now I can breathe!”

  “Let’s go to the beach.”

  Jade-Marie and Jason walked through the town, down toward the Brant Point lighthouse. They passed boutiques, restaurants, homes, and were away from it all, walking next to a large swath of open land, tall grasses swaying in the slight breeze. The moon was high in the sky tonight and somehow it made the sky seem even wider, higher, more inviting, as if the universe was larger than they had dreamed.

  “I’ll never understand the world,” Jade-Marie said.

  Jason nodded. “Haldane—he was a scientist—said that not only is the universe stranger than we imagine, it’s stranger than we can imagine.”

  Jade-Marie smiled. “I love that.” After a moment, she said, “I want to go to bed with you.” Jade-Marie stared up into Jason’s face as she spoke. She knew she was being daring, but there. She’d said it.

  “I want to do more than that,” Jason said, his voice low.

  Jade-Marie’s heart thumped. “More than go to bed?”

  “Yeah, like, make love. Get to know each other. Make love again. Spend lots of time with each other. Make love again. Like that. You know how I feel about you, Jade-Marie. You must. I mean, the way we danced out at Cisco’s…”

  “You’re only going to be here a week.”

  “No, I’m here for the summer. I got a job at Cabot’s Marine, remember?”

  “Oh, right. Your father’s angry about that.”

  “He’s always mad at me. I’m an adult. I can do what I want.”

  “Can you? Are you? I mean, if you’re going to work at Cabot’s, don’t you need to at least let the university know you’re quitting? That would be the mature thing to do. Not just let your father deal with it.”

  “You’re right. I should tell them. I’ll do it tomorrow,” Jason said.

  They came to the beach by the lighthouse and walked silently to the water’s edge. Boats dotted the harbor with circles of light. The sea was calm. They sat down together on the sand.

  Jason said, “You’re thinking I came to the island and got all island-happy, right? Like I’ve been transported to fantasyland.”

  Jade-Marie nodded her head, smiling. “Lots of people feel that way when they get here.”

  “Right. Like you. You’re working here this summer.”

  “Maybe the winter, too. I’m ambitious, Jason. I’d like to run a hotel, especially this hotel. The hotel business is what I know, and I like the size of this hotel, the challenge of off-season possibilities. I love this island and I hardly know it. But I’m not set in concrete. Working here this summer will be a good testing ground for me. I’ve got a lot to learn. And believe me, working for a hotel instead of staying in one is not in any way a fantasyland.” She paused, reflecting. “One thing I know for sure is that I’m not going to let my work, my ambition, get in the way of being with my family. I mean my husband and children, when I ever get around to having a family. I’m like my father, yes, but not totally like him.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” Jason said. “When I get married and have children, I want to be in their lives. I want to show up at their recitals and teach them how to ride a two-wheeler bike. I want to be, I don’t know how to say it, with the real moments.”

  Jade-Marie said, “I know, like when she’s got the flu and throws up or the first time at the dentist or gets a kitten.”

  “Or a puppy.”

  Jade-Marie said, “Yeah.”

  Jason turned to face her. In the darkness, he could see the white flash of her teeth as she smiled, and the way she was looking at him.

  Slowly, he put his hand on the side of her face. He could feel the warmth of her skin. Jade-Marie slowly turned her head and kissed the palm of his hand. He cupped the back of her head and brought her mouth to his. Her breath was warm and sweet. She put her arms around him. He felt her body yielding, and together they lay on the sand, pressing their bodies together, kissing. And kissing more, longer.

  When they drew apart, they lay side by side, looking at the stars. Jade-Marie’s head was nestled on Jason’s chest.

  “I came all this way to find you,” Jason said.

  Jade-Marie said, “And I came all this way to be found.”

  “We won’t be rash and rush things,” Jason said.

  “Right. We’ll see how the summer goes.”

  “But,” Jason said, and his mouth went dry with fear and hope, “if we want to make love, we will.”

  “Oh, yes,” Jade-Marie replied, her voice light. “I think we need to have lots and lots of sex before we decide we belong together.”

  “I think it would be a good idea to start now,” Jason said.

  “I think so, too. But not out here. Too many people.”

  “Too many people in the lobby of the hotel,” Jason said. “They’ll see us, stop us, and want to talk.”

  “Yeah, but, Jason, guess what. I have the key to the back entrance.”

  Jason sat up. “You might be the perfect woman for me.”

  Jade-Marie sat up next to him. “I certainly hope so.”

  Jason stood. He reached out his hand to pull Jade-Marie to her feet. They held hands as they walked back to the hotel.

  twenty-three

  That Summer

  The summer was coming to an end. Sidewalks were no longer congested with people and baby strollers and dogs. Restaurants weren’t overbooked. The Rose Hotel had empty rooms. Occasionally a cool breeze drifted in from the sea.

  At the end of the day, Sheila removed her apron and put it into the closet with her supply caddy. She searched for Mrs. Reardon and found her in the kitchen, drinking tea and studying her reservation book, a woeful expression on her face.

  “Mrs. Reardon?” Even though the door was open, Sheila knocked lightly.

  The older woman looked up. “Oh, Sheila. Come in, dear, sit down.”

  Sheila pulled out a wooden kitchen chair and sat. She was braver now than she had been at the beginning of the summer and needed to be honest more than likable. “I wondered how much longer you’ll need me.”

  Mrs. Reardon nodded sadly. “I’m afraid I need to let you go now.”

  “Now? That’s a week earlier—”

  “Yes, but that charming Mr. Johnson has made a miserable mess of things for me.”

  “Oh, dear. I suppose he’s not returning to the hotel after his accident.”

  “More than that, Sheila. Never mind that he had booked into September and I was counting on that income and I turned down reservations because he was staying. Said he was staying. He owes me for a month. Almost two months.”

  Sheila twisted the hem of her shirt. “Maybe he’ll send a check once he leaves the hospital…”

  Mrs. Reardon shook her head. “When his wife came here to collect his things, I told her that he owed me for more than a month, but of course she was worried about him and I didn’t press it because she seemed nice. She told me the police consider both drivers at fault, so she’s not worried about legal matters. First of all, she has to concentrate on helping Frank recover. She was too distraught to talk about money.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Sheila didn’t know how to console her employer. She was on the verge of tears herself.

  “No, I’m sorry,” Mrs. Reardon said. “I know I told you I’d give you a bonus if you worked to the end of August, but now I’ve lost his September reservation and he owes me for August. I can’t give you a bonus. My financial affairs are a mess.”

  Sheila sagged in her chair.

  “I wish things were different, Sheila.” Mrs. Reardon’s tone softened. “I like you. You’ve been a good, steady worker for me. I don’t want to let you go, but it’s only a week early, and thanks to that accident—”

  “You’re letting me go today?”

  “I hate it more than you do,” Mrs. Reardon said. “I’ll have to clean the rooms I do have rented. But I can’t pay you for another week.”

  Panicked, Sheila raised her voice. “But that’s not our agreement! That’s not fair!”

  The landlady gave Sheila a cold stare. “Life’s not fair, Sheila. And this island isn’t perfect just because it’s pretty. We year-rounders have to scrape to get by in the winter. We count on every penny we make”—she pounded the table with each word—“to help us pay for heat and food in February. If losing a bonus and one week’s salary is a tragedy for you, you’re lucky.”

  “I’m lucky,” Sheila echoed. She stood up, shaking. “Goodbye, then.”

  “Goodbye, dear. I’m so sorry.”

  Shattered, Sheila left the kitchen, walked down the hallway, opened the door of the Rose Hotel, and stepped out into the afternoon.

  She composed herself. What could she do now? It was after five. At the Sand Palace, Sharon Waters would have left, locking her office with the telephone in it. She’d started doing that when unknown numbers showed up on her bill. Ariel was undoubtedly with Wyatt, and Nick was probably drinking with friends. Sheila was alone on this island, and she always had been.

  At the corner of Main and Union, behind the Lion’s Paw, was a small parking lot with a bank of pay telephones. Sheila headed in that direction, walking faster as she got closer, until she was almost running, as if for her life. She reached the phones. For once, no one else was using one. She took up the receiver from the phone on the end. It was dead. No signal. Sheila let the receiver dangle and hurried to the phone at the other end. It worked. She put some quarters into the slot, dialed the operator, and asked to make a collect call.