Having settled the tourists and the year-round tenants into their rooms and shared smiles at their oohs and ahhs, Annie was in the kitchen, where the caterers were finding their way around. She knew she was in the way, but she was trying to avert her eyes from the backyard where Kevin and Jonas were now hauling the twin bed up from the cottage to put in the Inn where it belonged. She turned from the window; sleeping in her own bed that night would be a final sign that Donna was really gone. That, and the sealing-waxed envelope that Annie hadn’t yet opened, had been her remaining ways of holding on to her birth mother. She’d decided to open the envelope the next morning, after the Grand Opening was done. She’d be alone; John had a midnight-to-noon shift, with long days and nights in the near future, because, as of that very day, another Vineyard summer had officially begun.

“Hey, Annie,” Jonas said as the men jostled their way into the kitchen, raising the bed over their heads, “John and Lucy are here. And the dog. They’re outside talking to a girl who wants to see you.”

“Who?” Annie didn’t want to be distracted.

Jonas shrugged and only said, “Don’t know. But she looks cool.”

Kevin laughed, and they paraded past the caterers, their bounty held high.

Annie marveled at how much Jonas had changed, how his shyness had abated now that he’d come to terms with his mother, now that he could look forward to summer and to getting his career off to a good start. Annie felt a little sad for Taylor, but glad for her that she’d moved on. Taylor had already sent a post card from Hawaii, but hadn’t written “Wish you were here.” As for Kevin, Annie could only hope that, in time, he would find happiness again.

She excused herself from the caterers and went out to the yard.

She saw John and Lucy talking to someone whose back was toward her. Restless, of course, was the first one to spot Annie. He bounced toward her and leaped onto her white jeans and red-and-white-striped jersey top.

“Stop!” Annie cried. “Please! I love you, but get down!”

John and Lucy simultaneously called off the dog; the person they’d been talking with turned around.

“Oh!” Annie cried. “You’re here!” It was Francine—beautiful, and so grown-up—all the way from Minnesota. She was holding Bella, the dark-haired, dark-eyed child who was no longer a baby but a real little girl. Annie began to cry; so did Francine.

“I’m here to work for the summer,” Francine said. “If you’ll have me.”

“Of course! Your room is almost ready. In fact, your bed just walked by.” Annie knew it would give her comfort to know that the bed was for either Francine or Bella.