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run away from Beck’s car all the way to Logan Airport, where she could take a bus to Plymouth and a taxi to Beck’s house, and settle in her own car and drive herself back to Hyannis and take the car ferry home.

The logistics of travel would drive a Gothic romance heroine mad, Ari thought, with an inner smile. She was sitting here being too dramatic. Probably because she was pregnant.

Probably because last night she had told Beck she was pregnant.

Tonight Ari and Beck sat side by side in the middle of a center row. She knew he was aware that her knee could so easily have touched his, and he could have so easily taken her hand, but that didn’t happen. She could feel how uneasy he was now, in the dark, so close. She knew that this weekend they could have made love for the first time, and become lovers. They could have talked about the future. Well, they had talked about the future. Now they were thinking about the future. Separately. It was a relief when the ballet ended.

They listened to a local radio station on the drive back to Plymouth. It was after midnight when they returned to his house.

“I would ask if you’d like a nightcap,” Beck said with a smile. “But…”

A nightcap, Ari thought, and immediately an image flashed into her head, from a beautifully illustrated version of The Night Before Christmas: “And mamma in her ’kerchief, and I in my cap, / Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap…” It was all there, in the picture she’d studied as a child—the warm house, the children snug in their beds, their mother in a ruffled cap, their father in his stocking cap with a pom-pom on the end. If she could wave a wand, that would be her and Beck and this thimble-size baby inside her, and another child, one of theirs, together. But she had no magic wand. She was foolish to imagine such a sight.

When she looked at Beck, she knew he saw the longing in her eyes, the desire, but she said, because she had to, “No, thanks, Beck. This was a wonderful day. I’m glad I spent it with you. I’m sorry I can’t…spend the night with you.”

Ari wanted him to take her in his arms and say, I don’t care if you’re pregnant, I want to marry you and be with you forever because I’m wild with love for you.

Beck said, “I enjoyed being with you, Ari. Have a good sleep.”

He didn’t kiss her good night. She walked down the hall to the guest room in total misery, but when she was in her light summer pajamas, tucked between the cool cotton sheets, she fell asleep at once.

She slept late the next morning. She showered, dressed, and found Beck at his desk in the third bedroom he used for an office.

“Good morning,” he said. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Just toast. I can make it.”

“Nonsense. I’ll make it. You’re my guest.”

She followed him into the kitchen and sat at the table. He made fresh coffee and sat across from her. He wore board shorts and a rugby shirt. The hair at the back of his neck was damp from his shower. She wanted very much to touch him.

“What time does your boat leave?” Beck asked.

“I’m on the one-thirty back to the island,” Ari said.

“I should have driven down and picked you up.” Beck stared at her steadily. “I’ll do that next time.”

Ari’s breath caught. “Next time? Are you saying there will be a next time?”

“I hope so.” Beck crossed his arms and leaned forward on the table. “Ari, nothing in my life has prepared me for, well, you. I really need time to let it sink in, not just that you’re going to have a baby in—when—February? Of course, I need to think about that. But what has happened between us, how I feel about you—it’s all been sudden, hasn’t it? I think I fell in love with you the moment I saw you on the island with my sister, in front of the Hub. I saw you and I thought: ‘There she is.’ But I think I need time, we need time, to get to know each other better. Especially because an innocent child will be involved. I don’t know if I can do this. You probably don’t know what is right for you, either.”

Ari reached over and softly clasped his warm, muscular arms. “Thank you, Beck. You are so smart, so good, and I want you so much…in so many ways.”

“Let’s see where the summer takes us,” Beck told her.

“Yes.” Regretfully, she took her hands away from his arms. She rose, went into the guest bedroom, and slung her duffel bag over her shoulder.

Beck was at the front door. He was already holding it open. He smiled, a small, melancholy smile, took her bag from her and carried it to her car, put it in the hatch, and went to the driver’s-side door where she waited.

“A thought,” Beck said. “Talk to your friends. Your closest friends, not only your grandmother, but your friends.”

“Yes, I’ll do that,” Ari said.

He bent to kiss her mouth, lightly, quickly, before standing straight and stepping back. He smiled, but his eyes were troubled.

Ari was trembling. Automatically she got into the car, pulled the door shut, adjusted the seat, strapped on her seatbelt, checked the rearview mirror, and started the car. Beck stood steadily, his hand lifted in a gesture of farewell.

Ari slept for the two hours and fifteen minutes it took the ferry to cross the sound and dock in Nantucket. She drove home in a stupor, feeling hungry and exhausted and guilty and cranky.

The house was quiet. “Gram?” she called. A movement from the window caught her eye and she saw Eleanor with the garden hose, watering her flowers. The summer humidity had made her salt-and-pepper hair fly up in wispy twists all around her head. That’s

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