“The jerk chicken.” It was her favorite thing on the menu, prepared with an apple-pear chutney and served with black beans, rice, and a crisp plantain fritter.

“Jerk chicken? Out of all these options?”

“There’s nothing better. We’ve got a wonderful Jamaican population here, so the food is authentic.”

“Well, I’m having the cod,” Elodie said, closing the menu.

“That’s good, too.”

“I should hope so,” Elodie said. “If you can’t get decent seafood here, where can you?”

After their server took their order, Elodie sipped her Scotch. Suddenly, there was nothing to talk about.

“So what’s going on with you and your Pavlin & Co pop-up?” Celeste said. With everything else that was happening, she’d almost forgotten about it. Probably because she’d tried to forget about it.

“It’s on the back burner for the moment. Things certainly move slowly around here. Doesn’t that ever bother you?”

“Why would that bother me?” Celeste said.

“It’s just . . . why did you choose this place? Don’t get me wrong—it’s a charming town. A perfect getaway. But to never come back to Manhattan? I find it difficult to understand. And I know Mom and Dad always felt hurt by it.”

“They were hurt? How do you think I felt—they never once came to visit me. They only wanted a relationship on their terms. They told us to do what they wanted, when they wanted, and how they wanted. All I did was choose to live my own life.”

“They had strong opinions. But they earned it. Besides, they only wanted for us to be happy.”

Where on earth had her sister gotten that idea? Celeste had certainly never seen any indication of that.

“Let me ask you something: Why did you give them a free pass when it came to Paulina and Liam, but you cut me out of your life?” Celeste said.

“Really? You want to get into all of that, now of all times? Because I’d rather not.”

“You’re here for the summer. We’re under the same roof. It’s the elephant in the room, and I’d like to address it.” Celeste folded her arms.

“Perhaps this dinner was a bad idea,” Elodie said with a sigh.

The silence returned. Across the restaurant, Celeste saw friends of hers seated at a table with their baby daughter in a high chair. They had struggled for a long time to become parents and it warmed her heart to see them happy. It made her think of her own life and her sister’s.

“Did you ever want children?” Celeste said.

“Celeste, I’d like to enjoy my cocktail.”

Celeste shrugged. “I figured since we haven’t had a meal just the two of us in, oh, several decades, we might as well make the most of it.”

“You don’t have children, either.”

“See? We have something in common.”