She used the bathroom she shared with her sister, smoothed her hair and put on lipstick—she might run into old acquaintances and she wanted to look good. When she got downstairs, she found her father back in his study. This wasn’t the time to talk to him about his books. She’d wait and gang up on him with Barrett.

  She went out to the back porch. There, in the shadow of the barn, was her trusty old Jeep. At least she hoped it was trusty. She checked the hook by the back door and was relieved to find the keys. There had been times when her father had used a car key as a bookmark. Barrett had added fat rubber toy buoys to their key chains.

  “Bye, Dad!” she called, and stepped out the back door and down the steps to the yard. The horse and dog were at the other end of the property. The barn door was closed. Her father’s Land Rover sat in the driveway. She settled in, adjusting the seat, fastening her seatbelt, checking her hair in the rearview mirror.

  She was nervous. Or tired. Or overexcited. It had been a lot, seeing Jeff again, so soon, so unexpectedly, when she stepped off the ferry. And then her father, who seemed good, but all the books, so many more books than when she left, were worrisome.

  How brave Barrett was, to remain on the island, to open a shop here. Her baby sister, only twenty-six years old, opening a shop. Making her dream come true.

  * * *

  —

  Barrett had made her own open and closed signs. Sky blue background, white lettering, and pale imprints of shells, mermaids, and gems. The sign was turned to closed because she still had work to do, but the overhead lights were on while she unpacked the white paper bags printed with Nantucket Blues on the side. It would have been cheaper not to have the bags printed, but her friends told her it was a good investment. The bags would serve as walking advertising. She’d ordered three different sizes, for jewelry, housewares, and sweaters.

  She was on her knees behind the counter when someone knocked on the shop door. For a moment, she hesitated. The door was locked, and no one could see her from outside, so she could wait down here behind the counter until whoever it was got a clue, saw the sign that was hanging right in front of them, and left. She hated turning people away before she’d even opened her business.

  “Barrett! It’s me!”

  Barrett jumped up so fast, she hit her elbow on a shelf. That was her sister’s voice!

  She raced around the counter, across the small room, and tried to pull the door open, then remembered she’d locked it. She turned the lock, opened the door, and crowed triumphantly.

  “You’re here! You’re really here! Oh, my God, you look so fancy!” She threw her arms around Eddie and squeezed until they were both breathless.

  Eddie returned the hug. She pushed Barrett away, holding her shoulders with both hands. “Let me look at you. Barrett, you’re so pretty.”

  Tears of happiness rolled down Barrett’s face. “Have you been to the house yet? Where’s your luggage? Did you take a boat or a plane? Are you hungry?”

  Eddie laughed. “Let’s go inside. I want to see your shop.”

  Had she ever been happier? Barrett wondered. She took her sister around the small shop, her heart racing. Eddie looked so sophisticated, with her dark blond hair styled in a short spiky cut and her black leather ankle boots and her sleek black dress. Her makeup was flawless, and did she have false eyelashes carefully woven into her own?

  And oh, God, please let her approve of the shop. It was way too sweet for Eddie, who’d never met a mermaid she didn’t dislike, who read books instead of playing with dolls, who had always been and would always be older, smarter, more sophisticated, and prettier than Barrett. Okay, maybe prettier was the wrong word. Maybe more beautiful, more elegant, more fabulous.

  “I love your shop,” Eddie said.

  “You do?” Barrett burst into tears. “Sorry, sorry to be so emotional, it’s just that I’m so happy you like it.”

  “It’s a clever idea, such a range of blues in such a range of items. There’s no other shop like it here. I think you’ll make a fortune. Please. Enough with the tears. Let’s take a coffee break.”

  “Oh! I don’t have a way to make coffee here—”

  “Great! Now I know what to buy you for a shop-warming present.”

  Barrett said, “Oh, Ed, you don’t have to buy me a present! I mean, I can afford to buy a Keurig. I just hadn’t thought about it.”

  “Well, too late. I’m on the case now.” Eddie took Barrett’s arm. “Let’s go to Born & Bread.”

  Barrett forced herself to take a few deep breaths as she went around her shop, checking that any electric appliances were off. She locked the door and they set off walking through town to the coffee shop. It was busy, but not crowded. The season hadn’t started quite yet. They chose chocolate croissants and coffee and settled at a table by the window.

  “Have you seen Dad yet?” Barrett asked.

  “I did. On the bright side, he was dressed. On the worrisome side, the first thing he did when he saw me was to ask where to find a biography of Charles Lamb.”

  Barrett squinched up her face. “Oh, Eddie!”

  “It’s all right. He suddenly realized who I was. It doesn’t seem like things have changed much with him. He’s still obsessed with the book he’s writing.”

  “I know.” Barrett dipped her head for a moment. “He doesn’t play tennis or work out at a gym, although in the off-season he sometimes takes Duke for a walk on the beach.”

  “He used to be so active. Maybe he needs anti-depressants.”

  “I don’t know, Eddie. Dad’s lost his son, his wife, and his job.”

  “He chose to leave the college,” Eddie pointed out.

  “Still. It’s a lot. He does email his old friends, but he needs to make new friends.”

  Eddie reached over and held Barrett’s hand. “Don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll help deal with it somehow. But let’s not talk about that. Tell me, who are you seeing? Anyone special?”

  Barrett almost cried anyway, because Eddie held her hand and tried to cheer her up. Eddie was one of God’s can do creatures who hated being sentimental, so she must be seriously upset about their father.

  Barrett shrugged her shoulders. “No one special since our last phone call. It’s okay. I see friends I used to work with, but I had to finish some online business courses, and with the house, and getting the shop ready, I haven’t had time.”

  “No one special for me, either. I go out a lot, with Dinah. She’s always got mobs of beautiful people around, but in the city, it seems everyone is too busy climbing some kind of career ladder to really get involved. I’ve had dinner with a few men, gone to an art exhibition or cocktail party. You know. I’ve told you everything. But I’m not looking to settle down. Are you?”

  “Good grief, no!” Barrett answered. “But, Eddie, I’m only twenty-six. You’re twenty-eight. You’re almost thirty!”

  Eddie dabbed her napkin to a bit of chocolate on the side of her mouth. “Guess who drove me home from the ferry.”

  Barrett’s eyes lit up. “No.”

  “Yes. He had brought his grandmother to the Hy-Line. He offered to drive me home, so…I said sure.”

  “How is he?” Immediately, Barrett imagined her sister married to Jeff, pregnant, living on the island where Barrett could see her every day.

  “Good.” Eddie changed the subject. “I’d rather talk about you.”

  Barrett said, “What a great idea! Hey, listen, I’m truly grateful you’re home for a while. I want this shop to be a success. I plan to be there every day, all day, starting during Memorial Day weekend. I can’t continue as Dad’s maid, chef, and chauffeur, and his book hoarding is out of control—”

  “I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been back more often,” Eddie said. “Maybe I can convince him to clear out some of the books. I’ll do the grocery runs and all the cooking while you’re running your shop. When I go back to New York, I’ll hire a part-time cleaning company for the farmhouse.”

  Barrett turned her spoon over and back, hesitating.

  “What?” Eddie demanded.

  “It’s just…I missed you so much.”

  Eddie squeezed her hand affectionately. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to your shop. What time do you get home?”

  “If I can get stuff more organized, I’ll be there by six.”

  “Great.” Eddie stood up. “See you at dinner tonight.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” Barrett stood, too, and hugged her sister. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

  * * *

  —

  Eddie drove out to Bartlett’s Farm to buy some irresistible treats and a cartload of spring flowers to cheer up the inside of the house and put in the window boxes. She sang as she headed back to the farm. She knew Barrett had tried her best, but her younger sister was just too sweet to be bossy enough to get their father out of the house and into real life. Tonight, dinner out at a local, low-key restaurant. Tomorrow, a lecture at the library. Next, friends for her father—and a boyfriend for Barrett had to be waiting out there somewhere! Eddie smiled. She could do it all. She hoped she could do it all in a month.

  As she pulled into the driveway, her cell buzzed. Dinah. It hadn’t been even twenty-four hours since Eddie left New York. But Eddie was in a good mood.

  “Hi, Dinah!” Eddie put the car seat back and got comfortable. Dinah never had a little bit to say.

  “Eddie. Someone’s stalking me.”

  Eddie rolled her eyes. “Dinah, calm down. Why are you whispering?”

  Dinah hissed, “Because I don’t want anyone else to hear.”

  “Okay. The doors are all locked?”

  “Yes. And Sara is here.”

  Eddie rolled her eyes again. At this rate, they’d get stuck like her mother used to predict when she crossed her eyes as a child. Sara was Dinah’s agent, and even more take-no-prisoners than Eddie.

  “Honey, if Sara’s with you, you’ll be fine.”

  “She can’t spend the night.”

  “Where is Sara now?”

  “Out buying Scotch. She says she’ll have a couple of Scotches with me and I’ll sleep like a baby.”

  Eddie swore under her breath. “Dinah, hard liquor often makes you sick. It gives you headaches. Sometimes you throw up. Remember? Just drink wine, okay?”

  Dinah’s voice strengthened as she burst into tears. “Oh, Eddie, please come home! I can’t remember all this stuff when I’m writing! You know the ladies in my book drink sherry!”

  “I can’t come back, Dinah. I just got here. Look, I wrote down the information you need on the notepad by the kitchen landline. Ask Sara to go over it with you.”

  “Fine, but honestly, Eddie, I’m afraid this guy will find a way to sneak into my apartment. I can’t stop imagining what could happen.”

  Eddie spoke calmly. “Your life and your books are two different things, Dinah. Remember, you’ve got extra bolts on all your doors. Locks on your windows. A state-of-the-art alarm system. Plus, your favorite doorman, Jorge, will be there, and he would never let a stranger into your apartment.”

  “But—”

  Eddie interrupted. “Dinah, why do you think you have a stalker?”

  “Remember the book signing I did last week? At Barnes & Noble? And the man in the camel-hair coat who bought three books?”

  “That’s hardly stalking.”

  “Wait a moment, please! Yesterday, when Sara and I went out for lunch, the same man came in a few minutes after I did. He sat at a table behind me. He was looking at me. And this afternoon, when we went for a walk down Fifth Avenue, he was across the street.”

  “Dinah. Dinah, slow down. First of all, he couldn’t have known what time you’d go for a walk, or what streets you’d walk on. Maybe he lives in your area.”

  “When we were having lunch, Sara said, ‘Don’t look now but you have a fan.’ ”

  “That’s probably exactly what he is. A fan. An admirer.” Eddie spoke with humor and affection. “Come on. You can’t believe that a stalker would wear a camel-hair coat.”

  “They do in my novels!”

  “Right. And we’ve talked about this before. Your novels and your life are two completely different realities.”

  “I know that! But this man is not imaginary. Eddie, if you don’t come back, I won’t be able to sleep and then I won’t be able to write, and I’ll miss my deadline, and everything will be a mess!”

  Eddie heard genuine alarm in her employer’s voice.

  “Dinah, I’m not coming back for a month. We’ve talked about this. I thought Sara was planning to spend the night.”

  “One of her kids has the flu. She has to go take care of him.” Dinah whimpered. “Never mind about me.”

  “Okay, Dinah, here’s a plan. You feel safe in hotel rooms, right? Why don’t you go over to the Ritz or the Waldorf Astoria and get a room. Not a suite. You don’t want too much space. Just one really nice room without a connecting door. Spend the night there. You’ll be safe.”

  Dinah began to cry, her sweet breathy cries, as if she were a doll with the air being squeezed out of her.

  Eddie stayed strong. She knew Dinah wasn’t faking her fear, and she had so much sympathy for her. Yet the more sensible voice in her head said, in a sarcastic tone, Get a babysitter.

  It wasn’t such a bad idea. All the babysitter had to do was sleep in the guest room, or maybe on the sofa near the front door.

  Dinah sniffed. “Sara’s back.”

  “Good. Listen, ask her to spend the night with you after she’s got her child settled. Or she can bring him to your place. They can both sleep in the guest room.”

  “Fine.” Dinah’s voice went all haughty. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

  The phone blinked off.

  Eddie sat in the car for a moment, wondering if every person alive was crazy, and if so, did that mean she was crazy, too? Probably. Seeing Jeff at the boat had knocked her off-balance, that was certain, but she hadn’t had time to process it yet.

  four

  Today Eddie believed she could conquer the world.

  Last night she had taken Barrett and her father to dinner at Crosswinds, the restaurant at the airport that summer people never went to because it wasn’t expensive enough. They’d ordered cocktails and pineapple ginger shrimp stir-fry, and several men had come to the table to say hello to William. They hadn’t seen him in a while, they said. Where had he been? They wanted to ask him to join their men’s Winter Group, but they hadn’t been able to find his email, and it didn’t matter now because they were facing summer, but they’d be in touch with him come fall. When they got home, Eddie and Barrett went into his office, woke his computer, and saw that their father still used his college email address. Eddie set up a new account for him.

  “What do you want the name of your account to be?” she asked him.

  Her father came and leaned over her shoulder as she sat at his desk, tapping away on his laptop. “I don’t know. Professor Grant?”

  “Dad.” Eddie shook her head. “You’re not a professor anymore so get over yourself.”

  Barrett agreed. “She’s right, Dad. Do you think Lindsay Kellogg uses ‘retiredtransplantsurgeon@gmail’ as his address?”

  The three of them discussed possibilities that became sillier and sillier and they laughed together, and for a moment they were a family again, until Eddie ruined it by saying, “How about vaguelysenilebookhoarder@gmail?”

  “Not funny,” Barrett said.

  “But true?” Eddie nudged her sister.

  “I’m not a book hoarder,” William protested.

  “Sorry, Dad. I’ll bow out. I’ve got to go to bed.” She kissed the top of his head and pecked a kiss on Barrett’s cheek. It wasn’t until she got to the top of the stairs that she realized this was the first time in two years that she’d been frank and forthright about her thoughts, because no matter what, her father and sister would still love her and couldn’t fire her. She had this job—daughter, sister—for life. Nothing said family like an honest argument.

  She was tucking herself into her familiar bed when Barrett knocked on the bedroom door and stuck her head in.

  “He’s calling it WGrant400,” Barrett said.

  “Why the ‘400’?” Eddie asked.

  “He said it was a tribute to the French film The 400 Blows about a teenage boy.”

  “Oh, dear.” Eddie took a moment to let thoughts of their brother rest in the atmosphere.

  Barrett lifted the mood. With a big smile, she said, “Thanks for tonight, Eddie. Dad was so happy.” She came into the room, bent over the bed, and hugged Eddie tight. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too,” Eddie replied.

  Barrett left the room, singing quietly, an old habit of hers. Eddie turned off the bedside light, pulled up the covers, and closed her eyes. Immediately, she wondered when she’d see Jeff again. Her forbidden pleasure.

  * * *

  —

  Barrett didn’t even wait to eat breakfast. She rose early, dressed, and left the house before someone could ask for coffee or toast. She jumped into her red Jeep, which was dented and scratched on the outside but had four-wheel drive—necessary for the beach—and a large hatch area so she could pick up and deliver packages. She parked in her secret spot near Commercial Wharf by the town pier and walked the few short blocks to her store.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about Eddie, how great it was to have her back home, how quickly she’d gotten their father to connect with the world, and how it seemed all of Eddie’s clothes were black, which might be fine for New York, but not for summer on Nantucket. She decided to stop in at Murray’s Toggery on her way home and buy Eddie a present. A T-shirt? No. Sweatshirt? Way no. She’d find a silk navy blue button-down.