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when they visit, but I’m always glad when they leave. My daughter fusses that I need to get my hair cut, start a diet and exercise program, and wear my hearing aids, which I hate—they make my ears itch. My son does something in computers, and he’s always yelling on his Bluetooth or pounding away at his computer. His wife left him last year, and I can’t say I blame her, but I feel sorry for their kids.” Silas looked at Eleanor. “So tell me about your grandchild.”

“Alicia’s daughter, Ari. She’s lovely. She just graduated from Bucknell.”

“Is that right? How is that possible? How old is Alicia?”

“Alica’s forty-six. She had Ari when she was twenty-four.”

“And you had Alicia when you were thirteen, right?” Silas joked.

“Right,” Eleanor agreed with a smile. “Cliff is seven years younger. I had two miscarriages in between. I’m glad he came along. We get along better than Alicia and I do, but I worry that Cliff isn’t married yet.”

“Maybe he’s gay.”

“I don’t think so. He would have told me—he knows I would be fine with that.”

A young couple rode up on their bikes, easily swung both feet to the ground, and walked into the market.

“Youth,” Eleanor said. “I can’t remember when I last rode a bike.”

Silas nodded. “I can’t ride a bike anymore, but I can do a lot of other things.” He grinned playfully as he stood up. “I’d better get my victuals. It was awfully nice chatting with you, Eleanor. We should do it again.”

“I’d like that.” Eleanor stood up, automatically putting her hand on her back where it always pinged when she rose. “Goodbye for now.” She headed away from the market and began her walk to her house.

Back home, she put the baguette on the counter, hung her tote bag on its hook, and went to the living room window to see what the ocean was up to. It was an odd habit, she knew, as if she expected to see a pirate ship or Neptune himself appear on the vast sheet of blue.

The sea was calm. She spotted a fishing boat in the distance. Restless, Eleanor decided to replace the lightweight puzzle boards where they belonged, with half of a lighthouse puzzle finished and two other boards with puzzle pieces turned faceup. They took up only one-third of the dining room table, so she and Ari could eat here if they wanted. Eleanor had had to pack them up and hide them under her bed before the entire family arrived Friday. Alicia thought doing jigsaw puzzles was a sign of dementia, even though Eleanor had forwarded Internet articles about how they helped the brain. Eleanor thought doing puzzles must be a bit like taking Valium plus a light hallucinogenic. She went into a kind of Zen zone when she worked her puzzles, and she could truthfully say that she felt her brain percolating, sort of lighting up with pleasure. Well, she would never say that to her daughter or son. They’d put her in an assisted-living home for sure.

Seven

At seven twenty-five on Monday morning, Ari parked her Subaru in the Jetties Beach parking lot, took a last swig of coffee from her go-cup, and checked her face in the mirror. She’d put on a ton of sunblock, pulled her hair back in a ponytail, and dressed in a bathing suit with shorts and a tee over it. She was ready for whatever the day would dish out.

She walked across the sand to the long pine Mobi-mat that was rolled out from the restaurant to the water. Today the tide was in and the boulders were almost underwater. A scrum of adults and children were at the end of the mat, parents checking in their kids and hurrying back to their cars.

A cute woman Ari’s age was organizing a group of children all wearing matching red tees printed with a dancing duck and the words CAMP NANTUCKET.

“Hi!” Ari said. “Do you know where Beach Camp is?”

The other woman wrinkled her nose. “Over there,” she answered, waving to the far left where another group of children and counselors wore miscellaneous ragged tees, shirts, and bathing suits.

“Thanks!” Ari said brightly, but the cute woman had hustled her charges away from Ari as if she were contagious.

Ari walked down the beach toward the other camp. A young man was talking to one of the parents while a small girl tugged on his leg. Ari waited until the parent headed back to the parking lot, and then she stepped forward.

“Hi. I’m Ari. I spoke with Poppy and Cleo Saturday—”

“Right! Hi, Ari. Welcome aboard. I’m Cal Marshall.”

Cal Marshall was short and muscular, like a wrestler. Like his cousins, he had dark hair and eyes and a great smile.

“Cal!” The little girl tugging on Cal’s leg tugged harder.

Three little boys ran up to Cal. “Come on!”

Cal waved his hands, palms down, in a slow-down gesture. “Hey, guys, meet Ari! She’s going to be a camp counselor. Let’s head back and get in our morning circle.”

The four children yelled “Hi!” to Ari. They raced back to a group digging in the sand and building sand castles. Another counselor waited with them, a pretty woman with short blond hair, blue eyes, and a tee that couldn’t hide her lovely figure.

“Hi,” the woman said. “I’m Sandy.” She held out her hand.

Ari shook hands. “I’m Ari Paget. Are you another Marshall?”

Sandy laughed. “There are a lot of them, aren’t there? No, my last name is Spendler. This is my second year, so if you have questions, feel free to ask.”

A young guy with spots and glasses stuck out his hand. “I’m Greg. I volunteer here sometimes. It’s like herding cats.”

Ari laughed and said hello.

Sandy took Ari’s arm. “So the first thing we do here is have morning circle.”

Cal was clapping his hands. “Sit down. Sit in a circle. That’s right. No, Nita, you can’t sit in the water. Come over right here.”

With a lot of

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