Mel wasn’t sure. If someone had asked her when she was sixteen what she’d be doing in ten years she would have assumed Nate would have married Joanna, making her officially a relative of Mel’s and not just a best friend. She would have imagined they would have had a couple of kids, cousins to the bunch of kids Mel planned to have with Greg. She’d pictured long blissful summers punctuated by family barbecues, and noisy Thanksgivings.

All of which went to prove that planning was a waste of time.

Mel and Greg had Eden, but nature had dictated no more children. Joanna had married Cliff Whitman, and Nate’s significant other was currently his rescue dog, Bess.

“Your mom was kind to her. Joanna adored her. How is she doing by the way?”

“Her arthritis is worse. I’d like to be around more for her, but finding someone to help out in this place isn’t easy,” Mary-Lou said. “Do you think your brother has seen the news? I wonder if he still thinks about her. Took him five years before he’d risk getting tangled up with another woman after she walked out.”

“This is all history, Mary-Lou. Nate did fall in love again and he did marry.” She hated talking about her brother with anyone, but she knew he wouldn’t want to hear himself painted as a victim.

“And divorced a few years later.”

“You can’t blame Joanna for that.” Although for a while, she blamed Joanna for a lot of things. Why wouldn’t she? Joanna had left Nate. Nate, who she’d always said was her soul mate. Nate wasn’t just Mel’s brother, he was her twin. When he hurt, she hurt. He was older by four minutes and he’d always defended her. She did the same for him. She’d had a right to be angry, and an equal right to be angry that Joanna had turned her back on their friendship so easily.

Mary-Lou tilted her head. “Reckon she’ll come back?”

“Back here? No. Why would she? She hasn’t been back in twenty years.”

“True, but sometimes when bad things happen it’s a wakeup call. You realize what’s important. What you turned your back on. You want home.”

“Silver Point isn’t her home. Hasn’t been her home for two decades.” And none of us were important, Mel thought. I wasn’t important.

“She still owns Otter’s Nest.” Mary-Lou gave her a meaningful look, which Mel understood.

Joanna’s father, perhaps with some prescience, had left Otter’s Nest to Joanna and not his second wife.

Maybe he’d known, Mel thought. Maybe he’d known deep down what Denise was like, and that one day Joanna might need somewhere that was hers.

How would he have felt to know Joanna wasn’t living there?