“I planned to wait to propose until I’d made enough money to make a down payment on a house. But I want to be with you now. I want to be here for you now.”

  Helplessly sobbing, Barrett pulled tissues from her pocket and blew her nose heartily. “Sorry that I’m such a mess. I think I’m transitioning from sad tears to happy tears.”

  “You’re happy? Good. I want to propose to you, with a proper ring, but I don’t want to rush things.”

  Barrett touched his face, his beautiful face. “Paul, I love you. I want to marry you. But you’re right. There’s so much going on, I can’t keep it all in my head.”

  Paul said, “We don’t have to hurry, although I’d like to live with you right away.”

  “So that we can wake up each morning and drink coffee together?” Barrett suggested.

  “I wasn’t thinking of coffee,” Paul told her. He pulled her close to him and hugged her tightly. “You know, the garage I’m renting for my studio? I can stop renting and put that money toward a house of our own or at least for a nice apartment.”

  “Oh, no,” Barrett said. “I don’t want you to stop sculpting for a minute. We’ll work things out. We’ll find a way to be together.” She put her hand on his face and gazed at him, and all at once her sadness floated away. “I want to be with you, Paul. And when I’m with you, you and I will be a family.”

  * * *

  —

  Saturday, Barrett was glad it was raining, a heavy, thundering, wind-driven rain that was flooding the streets and streaming along downtown sidewalks. On Facebook, the Nantucket Year-Round Community had posted videos of the rain-swollen waters surging over the piers and along Lower Main, where Nantucket Blues was. She couldn’t safely open her shop.

  And that was fine. It was the perfect day to spend like this, lazing around with family, making plans.

  Eddie, Jeff, and Barrett were on the floor, playing Chutes and Ladders with Bobby. Or pretending to. Bobby sat on Jeff’s lap. He spent more time gazing up at Jeff’s bristle-covered jaw than he spent on the game. Dinah and William were relaxing in overstuffed chairs, doing crossword puzzles. Dove was stretched out on the sofa, her head resting on a pile of pillows, the rest of her snuggled beneath a down quilt.

  It was clear to everyone that Bobby was fascinated by Jeff. Over the past week, the family had gathered at Children’s Beach in different combinations. Sometimes Dinah would be there and leave, and then Jeff would stop by, and Barrett would take Bobby for lunch while William/Bill manned Nantucket Blues. To Barrett’s surprise, her father was an excellent salesclerk and in turn it was providing some kind of therapy for him. He’d always enjoyed teaching. Now he enjoyed chatting with strangers, helping them choose the perfect gift. Once when Barrett had been in the back room, discussing an order with a supplier, she overheard her father talking to customers and realized with a shock that her father could be charming.

  Barrett and Eddie had discussed their father whenever they had a moment by themselves. They’d decided that Dinah had somehow opened a portal into their father’s personality that their mother had slammed shut. William also seemed enchanted by Bobby and often took him to the aquarium with the touch tank or to Squam Swamp on a hike.

  It was odd, though, and frightening and sad, how quickly Dove was declining. Her face, feet, and ankles were swollen, the whites of her eyes were yellow, and although she was taking pain medication, Dove was uncomfortable and struggling.

  One evening after dinner, their father had asked Dove for a brief conversation in her bedroom. After half an hour, he’d returned to the kitchen.

  “Bobby, your mother and I were talking about this really fun place called Small Friends. I thought I’d take you over there to check it out.”

  “Will you leave me there?” Bobby asked.

  William answered gently. “Not the first time. The first time I’ll stay with you every minute.”

  “Because,” Bobby explained carefully, “my mom is going on a trip pretty soon and she’s leaving me here. She said Eddie will be my mommy and Auntie Barrett will be my aunt and you will be my grandfather.”

  “I am your grandfather and I’ll be right here,” William promised.

  Bobby nodded. “Okay.”

  * * *

  —

  By eleven o’clock in the morning, Eddie was in the Book Barn, sending Dinah’s work emails. Barrett was at her shop with their father. Dinah had driven her silver Mercedes into town to do research at the Nantucket Historical Association.

  Bobby was with his mother at Children’s Beach. Eddie had driven them there and planned to pick them up at noon, unless Dove called.

  Eddie opened her journal. She hadn’t had a chance to write in it for a few days. Well, she hadn’t wanted to write in it.

  She knew what she had to write would break her heart open.

  Dove is dying. It will happen soon.

  I am so afraid.

  I don’t know how people can stand this. Suddenly, and I can’t tell anyone this, I’m weirdly grateful to Stearns because he died so quickly, efficiently, completely. We didn’t have to watch him hurtle over the winding road, crash down the steep mountain, landing with a broken neck—the coroner said his neck was broken. His death would have been instantaneous. We didn’t have to be with him as he died, we didn’t have to witness him—was he terrified? Was he anguished for those few minutes when he realized he was losing his son and his wife? I hope he didn’t even know. I hope he thought: Cool. I’m flying.

  I don’t think Dove’s passing will go quickly. I promised her, and myself, that I’d stay with her in the hospital, and Barrett will join us if it’s necessary for her to stay overnight. Dove doesn’t want to die in the hospital, but it has come to the time when she needs help with her pain.

  She says that she’s not afraid to be dead. She believes once she is truly dead, once her body is dead, as Dove puts it, she will reunite with Bobby someday far into the future, she hopes ninety years in the future.

  She says she’s going to be with Stearns. She knows he is waiting for her.

  I never disagree with her. If believing in life after death is foolish, then let her be a fool. And what do I know, anyway? What do we all know? Maybe she’s right.

  All I really know is that I’m watching a friend pass over a bridge that is blurred by clouds and will soon become invisible like this island is when mist and fog surround it. How will she know how to place her feet? I’ve asked her this.

  Dove says that when she steps forward into the mist, the bridge will appear beneath her feet.

  I’ve got to go pick Dove and Bobby up from Children’s Beach.

  * * *

  —

  The three friends were in a private room in the Nantucket Cottage Hospital. Their father and Dinah were home, taking care of Bobby. Dove was in a hospital bed with tubes going into her slight, shrunken body and nurses coming in to check on her every fifteen minutes. Eddie sat on one side of the bed, holding Dove’s hand. Barrett was on the other side, holding Dove’s other hand.

  “How do you feel?” Barrett asked. Immediately, she corrected herself. “I know you can’t talk but I hope you feel like you’re floating on clouds of whipped cream.” She flashed a glance at Eddie. “I sound idiotic. I hope she doesn’t think I’m taking this lightly.”

  “It’s okay, Bare,” Eddie assured her. “The doctor said she can hear us, but may not understand what we say. Look at her. The pain medication is working. She’s not grimacing in pain. That’s the important thing right now.”

  Barrett nodded. “Hey, Dove, think of all the fun times we had together. Remember the time we made a fort in your backyard? Your mother flipped out because we used the good blankets and pillows.”

  “I remember,” Eddie said. “We made spears out of sticks we found in the trees. We went hunting the monster. Once, we heard a noise near the forest, and we thought it was the monster and we screamed and ran back to our fort and huddled in there, shaking.”

  “Remember that Halloween when we went together and you were Rapunzel and I was the prince and Eddie had to be the witch?” Barrett cackled and made her hands into claws.

  Eddie snorted. “I’ll never forgive you two for that. I didn’t want to be the witch. Who wants to be the witch? You two got costumes with sparkles and sequins. I had to wear a big black hat like the witch in The Wizard of Oz.”

  “Eddie,” Barrett argued, “witches are good.”

  “Not when they wear the black hat,” Eddie retorted.

  Their eyes were fastened on Dove’s face, but she showed no sign of comprehension.

  Barrett said, “Remember when you got that karaoke machine for Christmas and we decided we were going to become a trio singing old-fashioned songs? We recorded us singing and when we replayed it, we fell on the floor laughing because we were so terrible!” She glanced at Eddie. “Is it okay to be silly?”

  “Yes,” Eddie answered. “But, Dove, we have serious things to tell you, too. We found your mother’s phone number. She’s still living in Florida with a guy named Archie. She’s kept the last name, Fletcher. We called her…and left a message…but she hasn’t called back so far.” A surge of sorrow clogged Eddie’s throat. She waved her hand to Barrett, telling her to take over.

  “We can’t find your father’s address. The last person we spoke with said he’d moved to Costa Rica.” Barrett paused. “You know, we haven’t heard from our mother in years. We want to tell her she has a grandchild, but the last we heard she was in Amsterdam and we can’t find her on social media or by searching.”

  “The three of us never had a perfect mother.” Eddie felt tears beginning to well in her eyes. “But they did what was necessary, they kept us alive and healthy.”

  “Maybe it was the location,” Barrett suggested. “Like a spell was cast over our neighborhood by on old witch who curses the area so that mothers didn’t want to stay.”

  “But we’ll be good mothers,” Eddie promised. “We’ll take good care of Bobby. Jeff and I will be the best parents we can be. And Auntie Bare and Grandpop will always be there for him, too.”

  “So the thing is, Dove, if you can hear us, we promise we’ll take care of your little boy.”

  For a moment, it seemed as if Dove was speaking to them. Her breath was raspy, and her jaw moved. The doctor had said she would be in no pain because of the morphine drip.

  “Is she going?” Barrett whispered to Eddie.

  Eddie reached out and took Barrett’s hand. They each held Dove’s hand.

  “Dove,” Barrett said, “we’re all holding hands, like we did when we ran and jumped into the swimming pool.”

  “The three musketeers,” Eddie said. “And you get to go first this time.”

  * * *

  —

  A nurse came into the hospital room, put her hand on Dove’s wrist, looked at a clock on the wall, and wrote something in a notebook.

  Eddie was sobbing, standing bent double with her arms pressed into her belly.

  Barrett’s voice shook. “What do we do now?”

  “Now you both go home,” the nurse said. “Be glad you have each other. Be with your family. Drink a lot of water. Sit by the ocean. It’s not going to stop hurting right away. You have to accept it, the pain. It’s like having a baby.”

  Eddie choked out, “This is how it feels to have a baby? Well, give me a hysterectomy, because I’m never doing that.”

  “Me, either,” Barrett said. She looked at Eddie. “I’ll be a spinster, living with a dog and a horse.”

  The sisters smiled weakly. Barrett walked over to Eddie and hugged her, and they stood like that, crying and laughing and hurting.

  “Is there someone you want to call?” the nurse asked.

  Eddie nodded. “I’ll call our father now.”

  * * *

  —

  By the time William arrived at the hospital, both women were numb. It helped, in an odd way, for them to have so much paperwork to deal with. Dove had efficiently left her strongly worded wishes. She wanted to be cremated. She did not want Bobby to know that she was being cremated. She wanted to be scattered in the ocean and she didn’t want Bobby to attend.

  Eddie closed the Book Barn and removed its presence from Facebook. Barrett closed her shop for a week. She added the words Reopening after Labor Day to her Closed sign, even though she couldn’t imagine that would really happen.

  Nothing seemed real.

  When it did seem real, they went to one another and wept.

  The hardest thing was telling Bobby that his mother had left on her trip. The first day he seemed happy enough, but by the third day, Bobby asked when his mommy was coming home from the trip. Several times he cried. Twice he went into a full-scale tantrum that left him exhausted and sad. They did their best to keep him happy. Bill and Dinah took him on the fast ferry to the Cape, played miniature golf with him, returned to Nantucket on the fast ferry, and bought him a hot dog and potato chips for the trip home. Jeff took Bobby for a ride in his truck one afternoon. They drove on the beach to Great Point, where Jeff held Bobby’s hand tight as they looked at the hundreds of fat, grunting seals. Another day, Paul brought Bobby to his workshop to show him how he carved his wood into the shapes of boxes, bluebirds, and bookends. Paul gave Bobby a very small carving of an angel. He gave Bobby sandpaper and taught him how to smooth the wood.

  In the evenings, the family ate comfort food—pizzas, chicken baked in cream sauce, twice-stuffed potatoes, tubs of ice cream.

  After a week, they were notified that the urn was ready. The sisters waited until sunset. They stood on the beach at Cisco and looked at the calm, mysterious water sliding onto the sand.

  “Take off your shoes,” Barrett said.

  “What?” Eddie looked confused, but she put the urn down in the sand and slipped out of her sandals.

  Barrett unstrapped her own sandals. She held out her hand to Eddie.

  Together, they walked into the water, which was still warm from the summer sun. Eddie carried the urn in her other hand, holding it tight against her chest. The sand shifted beneath their feet. With each step, they went deeper into the ocean, and they felt the water grow colder against their legs.

  Eddie stopped walking. The waves were up to their chests. “More?” she asked Barrett.

  “A few steps more,” Barrett replied.

  The cool ocean washed against their shoulders. Eddie held the urn out in front of them. Barrett took the lid off and held it while Eddie shook the ashes into the water.

  “Goodbye, Dove,” Eddie said.

  “We’ll see you in ninety years,” Barrett said.

  “Say hello to Stearns for us,” Eddie said.

  The sisters stood together as the sea surged against them and around them, touching them with the waters of all the oceans, carrying fish and shelled creatures and pebbles smoothed by millions of years of tumbling. Carrying the salt of tears, the whispers of secrets, the sweetness of dreams.

  Carrying Dove’s ashes.

  Carrying Dove.

  * * *

  —

  In September, when most of the summer people were gone, Dinah signed the contracts on her new house. She and Bill invited his family to come for a celebration.

  Barrett and Eddie drove Bobby up the hill to the cliff overlooking Nantucket Sound.

  Dinah and Bill were at the door, waiting for them to arrive. The house was large, with many high windows showing the blue waters and the ferries, sailboats, and yachts coming in and out of the harbor.

  “Bobby,” Bill said. “Come with me. I want to show you your room.”

  “He has his own room?” Eddie asked.

  “Can we come see it, too?” Barrett asked.

  Bobby took Bill’s hand. Dinah and the sisters followed them up the stairs and into a large bright room with a captain’s bed and sailboat wallpaper and a toy box that looked like a treasure chest, overflowing with toys. Best of all, in front of the windows overlooking the sound, a small, shiny brass telescope stood.

  Bill knelt and showed his grandson how to use the telescope. “You’ll get used to it,” he promised. “You’ll be able to watch boats coming into harbor and going out again. You’ll be able to watch the birds flying and maybe you’ll even spot a whale.”

  “Mommy told me she’d be in the clouds,” Bobby said, looking hopeful and very serious.

  Dinah knelt next to Bobby. “Do you understand that when your mommy floats past you in the clouds, she won’t look like herself?”

  Bobby nodded. “She said she might look like a pillow or a soccer ball or a bird. But she said I would know it was her. And she would know it was me.”

  “Your mommy is very wise,” Dinah told him.

  “Can I look in the toy box now?” Bobby asked.

  “Of course.”

  * * *

  —

  The next morning, after breakfast, Eddie said, “Bobby, you’re about to burst out of your shirt, and you need new clothes for preschool.”

  Bobby announced, “I want a T-shirt with a shark on it!”

  “And that’s what you shall have!” She was kneeling in front of the little boy, trying to fix a strap on his sandal. “But we’ll get you some underwear and socks and pajamas, too. And we’ll check out beds and sheets for your new room.”

  From the first floor, Barrett called up the stairs. “Are you guys ready?”

  “Put on your backpack,” Eddie told Bobby. “Yeah, we’re on our way,” Eddie yelled at Barrett.

  “I don’t want to be late,” Barrett reminded them.

  They hustled out to the car, slammed doors, fastened seatbelts, and Barrett drove quickly to town.