Settling into the rocking chair by the fireplace, she chose to let the others do the talking. As a writer, she preferred listening, anyway.

“Your granddaughter is charming,” Donna said after she and Claire were seated, and Lucy had gone outside.

“She has her moments,” Claire responded, winking at Annie. “She’s a good girl, but I worry that she’s like her father. Spunky sometimes to her detriment.”

“And she has a sister?”

“Abigail, yes. We hardly see her anymore; like her mother, she never enjoyed living on the island. The girls are polar opposites.” Then Claire offered a sly smile and added, “Lucy is the smart one. She knows how to get her way.”

Donna laughed. “Then she’s bound to succeed at whatever she does in life.”

If she can learn to control her enthusiasm, Annie thought, absently shaking her head.

“Annie?” Claire asked. “You disagree that Lucy will be successful?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. I was just marveling at her energy. I don’t think I came close to having that much at her age.”

“None of us did, dear,” Claire replied, a look of bewilderment crossing her face. “I’ve often wondered how John turned out as well as he did. If I only could get back the days—and years—that I spent worrying . . .”

“We always worry about our children, don’t we?” Donna said. “Even before I met Annie, I worried about her.” Then she turned to her. “You didn’t know that, did you?”

“Well, no.” Annie had no idea how else to answer.

Donna looked back at Claire. “When I learned she was on the Vineyard, I was so pleased. I loved it here when I was young.”

At first Annie thought she must have misheard.

Then Claire asked, “Oh? Family vacations?”

Donna shook her head. “No. I worked here one summer after I graduated from high school. I was a waitress at a restaurant—the Blue Lagoon in Vineyard Haven. Do you remember it? It was a small place; it’s probably long gone.”

Annie was too shocked to speak.

“I remember the name,” Claire said. “But years ago, except for once or twice a year when we went off island to buy clothes and supplies that we couldn’t get here, we only went to Vineyard Haven to get the boat, not to eat out. There weren’t many restaurants then.”

“They mostly made fried clams. Not strips, mind you. Whole bellies. Only whole bellies.”

Annie froze. That was how Murphy had liked her clams. Whole bellies, never just strips.

Claire laughed. “So you were here only that one summer?”

“And for spring break just before it,” Donna replied. “When I came down to apply for the job.”