Mercer smiled and fetched the drinks. When she returned she twisted off the top of a beer bottle and said, “So what have you been up to?”

“The same, always the same. And you?”

“I’ve been teaching and writing.”

“I read your book. Liked it. I used to look at your picture on the back and say ‘Wow, I know her. Known her for a long time.’ Tessa would’ve been so proud, you know?”

“Indeed she would have. So what’s the gossip on the island?”

He laughed and said, “You’ve been gone forever and now you want the gossip.”

“What happened to the Bancrofts next door?” she asked, nodding over her shoulder.

“He died a couple of years ago. Cancer. She’s still hangin’ on but they put her away. Her kids sold the house. New owners didn’t like me; I didn’t like them.” She remembered his bluntness and efficiency with words.

“And the Hendersons across the street?”

“Dead.”

“She and I swapped letters for a few years after Tessa died, then we sort of lost interest. Things haven’t changed much around here.”

“The island doesn’t change. Some new homes here and there. All the beach lots have been built up, some fancy condos down by the Ritz. Tourism is up and I guess that’s good. Jane says you’re gonna be here for a few months.”

“That’s the plan. We’ll see. I’m between jobs and I need to finish a book.”

“You always loved books, didn’t you? I remember stacks of them all over the house, even when you were a little girl.”

“Tessa took me to the library twice a week. When I was in the fifth grade we had a summer reading contest at school. I read ninety-eight that summer and won the trophy. Michael Quon came in second with fifty-three. I really wanted to get to one hundred.”

“Tessa always said you were too competitive. Checkers, chess, Monopoly. You always had to win.”

“I guess. Seems kind of silly now.”

Larry took a drink of water and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. Gazing at the ocean, he said, “I really miss the old gal, you know. We bickered nonstop over the flower beds and the fertilizer, but she would do anything for her friends.”

Mercer nodded but said nothing. After a long silence, he said, “Sorry to bring it up. I know it’s still tough.”

“Can I ask you something, Larry? I’ve never talked to anyone about what happened to Tessa. Later, long after the funeral, I read the newspaper stories and all that, but is there something I don’t know? Is there more to the story?”

“No one knows.” He nodded at the ocean. “She and Porter were out there, three or four miles, probably within view of land, and the storm came out of nowhere. One of those late summer afternoon jobs, but a pretty nasty one.”

“Where were you?”

“At home, puttering. Before you could turn around the sky was black and the wind was screaming. The rain was thick and blowing sideways. Knocked down a bunch of trees. Power was out. They said Porter got off a Mayday but I guess it was too late.”