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Beck’s voice lightened. “I go to the gym. I work out, and if the weather’s good, I run. I hike. Hiking somewhere new is my best therapy for myself.” With a crooked grin, he added, “Also, playing tennis. I need to play a lot of tennis with you.”

“I’m up for that,” Ari told him. “And I won’t bill you for therapy.”

After lunch, Beck walked Ari to her car in the parking lot. Cars were all around them, people slamming doors, yelling greetings, carrying tennis rackets and life jackets.

“This isn’t the time or the place,” Beck told Ari. “But I hate it like crazy that I won’t see you tonight. I agreed to this family thing months ago.”

Ari leaned against her car. Beck stood only a few inches from her. She longed to put her hands on his chest, to rise up on her toes and kiss him. “I understand. We have lots of time.”

“I hope we have all the time in the world,” Beck said.

Then, surprising her, he pulled her to him, bent down, and kissed her mouth firmly, right out there in the sunlight.

Ari was breathless.

“I had to do that,” Beck told her. “And I’m going to do that again the next time we meet.”

Ari felt as if she were absolutely glowing as she sank into her car. She waved at Beck and drove out onto the street, and she couldn’t stop smiling.

Fifteen

Sunday morning, they agreed that Ari should pick Alicia up at the ferry while Eleanor waited at home. Alicia looked as cool as ice as she stepped off the ferry in her clamdiggers and striped linen sweater. Ari kissed her cheek and led her to the car, gathered her mother’s luggage, and put it in the back. Her mother was aloof, as if waiting for something terrible to confront her, so Ari babbled about her Beach Camp job as they rode back to the house on the cliff. Her mother pretended to listen. Alicia wouldn’t force her daughter to tell her what this important talk was about without Eleanor there.

The day was overcast, threatening rain, and windy, so Eleanor had made a small fire in the living room fireplace, where it glittered and gleamed like a casket of topaz. She’d prepared crackers and cheese, as well as her blueberry muffins, with sugar liberally sprinkled on the tops. When Alicia arrived, Eleanor rose from the sofa and welcomed her with a hug, which her daughter coolly returned.

“Mom,” Alicia said. “I’m going crazy. Could you tell me?”

“Let’s sit down.” Eleanor had dressed in slacks and an old, familiar wool sweater.

Alicia sat, keeping an eye on Eleanor as if her mother could vanish at will.

Ari, in jeans and an old Bucknell sweatshirt, sat next to her mother.

“Now.” Alicia’s back was ramrod straight. “Tell me.”

“Yes, of course,” Eleanor said. “And we’re sorry. I’m not even sure this is the right course of action.”

“Mother, tell me.” Alicia held back her anger.

“Ari and I have reason to believe that Phil is having an affair with a young woman on the island.”

Alicia sat very still, not reacting. She cleared her throat. Calmly, she said, “You have reason to believe? What does that mean?”

Ari spoke up. “It means I have seen Dad with a young woman several times here on the island. I think Dad’s having an affair.”

Ari’s mother’s face became very pink. She put her hand over her eyes for a brief moment. “That is possible. There have been some nights when Phil hasn’t come home. I let myself believe he was at the hospital. When we were very young, newly married, he used to sleep at the hospital.” Her voice was trembling, but no tears appeared. “You know, Mother, this is your fault.”

“My fault?” Eleanor’s eyes widened. “How in the world do you get to that conclusion?”

Alicia said quietly, “You were such an irresponsible mother. You didn’t give me proper guidance.”

Eleanor said, “I don’t understand.”

Alicia looked agonized as she tried to explain. “I wanted to be a little princess, like Daddy thought I was. I wanted to be…precious, protected. You allowed me to have a Barbie doll so I thought that was how women looked. You never made us stop watching TV when we were teenagers so I didn’t do well in my classes. You let Cliff have a dirt bike and he ended up with a cracked rib. You were like the Queen of Free Love. Your curfew on the island was midnight, and you didn’t even enforce that. You let me run free. You told me I should marry whomever I chose.”

“Not when you were fifteen, I didn’t,” Eleanor clarified.

Alicia cried, “You insisted I attend a coed college instead of Smith because, you said, it’s more fun if boys are around. You said I should marry the man that makes me dizzy with love!”

“I’m completely lost,” Eleanor said quietly.

“You were always, like, ecstatic if I brought a boy home to dinner, especially if he had a motorcycle and a dragon tattoo. But I was too scared to sleep with anyone, and then I met Phillip. Phillip made me feel safe. He treated me gently. And you thought he was boring!”

“I never said Phillip was boring,” Eleanor said. She smiled, just a little. “Although, he is boring.”

Alicia cried, “You see! I’m not what you wanted in a daughter. You wanted Janis Joplin and you got Jane Austen. You let us go to concerts where there were all kinds of drugs and slimy people. You were so cool, so lenient.” Alicia fell back onto the sofa, tears exploding from her eyes, sobs wrenching her body. “Phillip isn’t boring,” she said. “I’m boring. That’s why he’s having an affair.”

“Oh, my dear,” Eleanor said. “I’m afraid I was trying to be a better mother than my mother was to me. My mother was a strict authoritarian. She had rules for everything. How to hold a fork. When to speak to an adult. Why I needed to improve my

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