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little prayer that the next few moments wouldn’t be too horrible.

“I have to tell you something, Beck,” she said, her voice trembling.

Beck smiled slightly. “Okay.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Beck rocked back in his chair as if punched. “Wow.”

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I guess I’ve been hoping it would all, somehow, disappear. And, Beck, I like you so much…” She bit her lip. “I’m trying not to cry. I know it’s not fair if I cry.”

Beck asked, “Do you want to tell me who the father is?”

Ari nodded. “Peter Anderson is the father. I told you about him. He’s been the only serious man in my life. I was going to marry him this summer. It happened three days before I broke off with him, at the end of May. I knew I was going to break off with him, but he was so stressed, I couldn’t tell him then. I’d only just gone off my birth control pills…”

Talking had settled her, calmed her. She took another sip of water and crossed her arms on the table, gently pushing the empty bowl of chowder away.

“He was, understandably, upset when I ended it. Angry. Hurt. I came to the island to stay with my grandmother, having no idea I was pregnant.”

Ari looked down at her hands. “I met you before I knew. I sailed with your family and had dinner with you and I did know by then, but I hadn’t really processed it. Plus, so many people come to the island and have summer romances and then it’s all over in September.” Ari looked up and met Beck’s eyes. “I’m falling in love with you, Beck, and it’s the absolutely wrong time. I’ve messed this all up. I’m so sorry.”

Beck looked at her steadily. “Have you told Peter?”

“Yes. It was awful. I drove to Boston two weeks ago and told him. He was angry. He wants nothing to do with a child, if I go through with the pregnancy, but he said he’d pay half for an abortion.” Ari’s lips quivered in a weak, wry smile. “That’s so Peter. To pay for exactly half of something.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Are you going to have the baby?” Beck asked.

“I am,” Ari said, and burst into tears. “I don’t know why, but I am. I love children. I know I’ll be a good mother. It’s not so very strange these days for a woman to have a baby on her own and raise it on her own. Lots of single women do it.”

“Do your parents know?”

“Ha. My parents. No, they don’t know. They’re having their own problems. My grandmother Eleanor knows. I’m sure she’ll help me somehow. I’ll have to postpone my work toward a master’s degree. As for the rest…I haven’t figured it all out yet.” She looked at Beck, desperation in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Beck. I’m so sorry. It was like nothing I’ve ever known, meeting you, being with you. I know I should have told you sooner, and stopped seeing you.” She dropped her head in her hands and cried.

Beck didn’t reach to touch her, and she was glad. It was too confusing. She willed herself to stop crying. After a moment, she wiped her eyes and looked at him.

Beck was looking at her, not with anger, and not with pity. “This is a lot to deal with. It’s certainly not how I thought this weekend would play out.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Ari. You must know I have feelings for you, too. I don’t want to rush any decision. I’m having trouble getting my mind around this. But you are here, now, and I have tickets for the ballet tomorrow. There’s no reason we can’t spend this weekend together as friends. As for the future…let’s not think about it. Or, rather, of course we’ll be thinking about it, but let’s…” Beck gave a short laugh. “As a therapist, I’m bungling this. As a man, I’m completely at sea.” He grew serious. “Because to be with you would mean to act as father to another man’s child.”

“To my child,” Ari whispered.

“So here’s the plan. We’re going to be good friends this weekend. Tonight we’ll watch my favorite television series, Q.I., which stands for Quite Interesting. It’s a sort of quiz show where the panelists get points not for having the right answer but for having an answer that’s quite interesting. It’s funny, and it’s smart. Tomorrow we’ll go to Boston as planned, see the museums, have dinner, attend the ballet.”

“That’s a good plan, Beck.” Ari took a deep breath. She had done it. She had told him. She had told him two things, actually, two enormous, significant things: that she was pregnant, and that she was falling in love with him. She was relieved that they could be friends for the weekend. She was glad, and sad, that she slept in Hen’s bedroom that night.

Their day in Boston was perfect. At breakfast they were stiff, uncomfortable with each other, but by the time they were in the city, the awkwardness had passed. Beck was such an amiable, intelligent companion. He wore a lightweight navy blazer that set off his blue eyes. Ari wore a flowered summer frock that flounced when she walked and her amethyst necklace and earrings. It was fun to dress up after being in the sand and water five days a week. She saw people turn to look at him, or maybe, also, at her. He looked a bit like Prince William back when he had hair, and she looked like Kate Middleton. Kind of.

They toured the Museum of Fine Arts, and then, such a change, the Museum of Science. They had a delicious meal at the Atlantic Fish Company. They talked about everything—their families, their school years, their friends.

But when they were seated in silence at the Boston Ballet, Ari was miserable. She wasn’t moved by the swelling music or the exquisite performance of the dancers. She only wanted to leave the auditorium and

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