The question was like a record scratch. She felt the wall go up, her insides tightening like a fist. She took a deep breath, looking at Connor. He was definitely a man who was used to getting what he wanted. And by a third date, sex wasn’t an unreasonable ask. But she couldn’t do it.

We agreed to be friends, right?

“Things are moving a little fast for me,” she said.

He looked surprised—maybe even a little annoyed. But he quickly recovered. He reached for her hand.

“No problem. I can wait. You, Gemma Maybrook, are worth waiting for.”

52

If Celeste and Jack had to name a favorite spot, the salt marshes at Herring Cove would be top of the list. Even at the peak of summer, they could usually find a moment of solitude amongst the great blue herons, osprey, and regal egrets. They dressed in waders and carried binoculars. Jack wore a whistle around his neck in case of coyotes.

Celeste pulled her straw hat lower over her face. The sun beat down as they walked the perimeter of a mud patch, bubbles popping up through small holes—a sure sign that quahogs were underfoot. She reached for Jack’s hand.

“It never gets old,” she said, flush with love for the staggering natural beauty of her adopted town. And for her partner.

Jack stopped walking, his dark eyes sharp and focused on her.

“It certainly doesn’t,” he said, pulling her close. She smelled the faint scent of the tobacco he was supposed to quit. That, and the briny musk of his sweat. “You’re as beautiful as the summer we met. More beautiful. I love these.” He traced her crow’s feet with his finger.

“Oh, Jack,” she said, kissing him. His hardscrabble New England exterior was no match for his romantic heart. A dragonfly landed on his shoulder, then alighted. “I love you.”

“I know you do,” he said. “Say, any thoughts yet about the wedding venue?”

“Well,” she said, swallowing hard. “I started talking to Lidia about it but then the blackout happened and we got distracted.” Okay, not exactly the truth. The blackout did happen right when they were set to talk, but she took it as a bad sign, and immediately called Maud for a reading.

Maud gave her unusual instructions.

“Go to the water tonight,” she said. “Collect thirteen stones of similar shape and size. Keep them by your bedside overnight and bring them with you when you come for your reading.”

Celeste did as she was told, carrying the bundle of stones to her lunchtime appointment. They sat across from each other at a small table and Maud marked each stone with a different symbol; one represented the sun, another the moon, another Mercury, and so on. Then she placed all the stones in a cloth, drawing it closed into a pouch. She then closed her eyes and asked Celeste to do the same.