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I just want you not to do this. It’s not going to turn out like you expect.”

I eye her with amusement. “And what do you think I expect?”

“You know damn well,” she says with a snort. “The saintly, widowed therapist—who the jaded TV chef had the good fortune to marry—steps in to save the day and mend the well-publicized rifts of his screwed-up family.”

“I’m not exactly a therapist,” I correct her. “A child psychologist who works with migrant families doesn’t get to do much therapy. I’m more of a social worker these days.”

“That’s therapy in my book,” she says tartly. “The thing is, you might fool a lot of people, Christina O’Connor—”

“Murray.” I correct her more playfully this time, but she ignores me.

“My point is, you don’t fool me. You’re a lot more vulnerable than you appear.” Nellie Bee picks up her towel to wipe the sand off her feet, and I stare at her in surprise.

“What does that mean?” I demand. “When have I ever claimed not to be vulnerable? I’ve always been vulnerable and not afraid to show it.”

She turns flashing green eyes on me. “Oh bull crap. You put up a good front, acting so calm and composed. But I know it’s an act. I’m worried about you, Chris. Really worried.”

“Worried about me? That’s ridiculous.” Like her brother, Nellie Bee’s intensity can be a bit overwhelming. But you know where you stand with her. Then it hits me that something else is bothering her, something she’s hesitant to say—which is not like her. “C’mon, Nellie Bee; spit it out. What’s this really about?”

We stare at each other until she throws her hands up in the air, flapping the towel dramatically. “Okay, okay. I didn’t want to say anything but—”

“I knew it! What?”

“I think this reunion thing’s an elaborate ploy to get Bram back—”

“Is that what’s bothering you? I’ve known that all along. No reason for you to worry, though. If he decides he wants to return to the show, I’ll play the good wife and be supportive of his decision.”

“Not the freaking show!” Nellie Bee screeches it so loud that a couple of seagulls standing near us lift their wings and take off, squawking in protest. Looking around to make sure no one hears her, Nellie Bee leans toward me and lowers her voice. “I’m talking about Jocasta. She’s the one who wants him back.”

I blink at her, baffled. “You mean she got the food network to film a special so she’d have a reason to see him again?”

“Of course not, idiot. Jesus! Use that brilliant mind of yours here. She merely seized the opportunity the network offered. They proposed a big special, Bram Stoker O’Connor on the twenty-fifth anniversary of the launch of his show. It’ll be modeled after the original special they did on him—the young O’Connor family at home on Fripp Island. Then they’ll show viewers where he is now—divorced but remarried, his son grown up with his own family, and everyone—including the ex-wife—getting along beautifully. It’ll be a family reunion to end all family reunions.”

“I still don’t get why you think Jocasta orchestrated it.”

“She didn’t! What she orchestrated was Michael’s insistence that either she be a part of it or he wouldn’t come. And I know that because Michael told me himself. His mother begged to be included.”

“That doesn’t mean she wants to get back with Bram, Nellie Bee. Or that Michael’s complicit. He just wants the grandparents of his daughter to be on good terms. That’s what he told Bram, and Bram agrees.”

“Bram doesn’t know pea-turkey. Of course he doesn’t see through her scheme. He’s never seen through her.”

“But . . .” My head’s spinning, either from the mojitos or the craziness of such an idea. “He must’ve eventually come to see her for what she really is. I mean, Jocasta left him for another man and took Michael with her. Losing both his wife and son almost destroyed him.”

“I hope he told you that he tried to get her back, even after she broke his heart?” When I acknowledge that he did, Nellie Bee goes on. “I’m not sure what his version is, Chris, but I can tell you what I saw. He’d been a fool for that woman, and I’ve never seen anyone so devastated as he was by her betrayal. When she filed for divorce and was awarded full custody of Michael—by claiming, rightfully, I must concede, that Bram traveled too much to take care of a child—my brother fell apart. Then Jocasta remarried and he plunged into despair. That’s when he tried to drown his sorrows with booze. He was barely able to go on with the show.”

I nod and look out over the ocean, remembering Bram telling me this before we married and observing the pain it still caused him. I’d insisted on complete honesty about our pasts. Both of us had loved before and had our lives shattered by loss, me by the unexpected death of my husband, whom I’d loved dearly, and Bram’s by divorce and estrangement. Bram swore he was over his ex-wife, but hearing the story from Nellie Bee’s point of view makes me wonder. Did he ever truly get over her? “Go on,” I say, bracing myself.

Nellie Bee’s gaze holds mine. “Here’s the thing, Chris. Because Bram was so well-known by then, their private life became public. You might’ve seen the article People did. Their angle was the one that hurt Bram most, how Michael turned against his dad. He bought his mother’s lie that she only left his father because he ran around with other women and neglected her and their son. Jocasta played Michael’s disillusionment with his dad for all it was worth.”

“Why do you think that her second marriage didn’t work out?” I ask, though I figure her response will be the same as Bram’s: husband number two wised up quicker than he did.

Nellie Bee refutes that. “It didn’t work out because the new guy wasn’t Bram. Bram’d become a celebrity

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