“Actually, I wanted to ask you something, Aunt Celeste,” Gemma said. “Can I use the spare room across the hall from my bedroom just for a little? I need my jewelry-making equipment.”

She looked nervous, as though she were requesting something huge. Celeste told her yes, of course she could use it for as long as she needed. Really, she was thankful for the interruption.

It was clear from even their brief chat that Lidia wouldn’t see her perspective on the engagement issue. Now she wished she hadn’t brought it up.

She needed to consult with Maud.

32

A week without progress. How much more time could she waste in the middle of nowhere, waiting for Celeste to sign the papers? The answer: not much. Elodie had to push things along. But how?

The early morning sun cast a pink glow on the bay. All was quiet except for a chorus of birds, including an owl hooting somewhere nearby. On the dock, two men wearing high rubber boots climbed into a small boat.

Still wearing her pajamas and robe, she carried Pearl down the deck stairs to the street level. Pearl had made such a fuss upstairs that Elodie worried she didn’t have time to dress or she’d risk an accident in the room.

Elodie had never understood people’s complaints about how much work it was to have a dog. She now realized that was because she hadn’t done most of that work.

At Commercial, she bent down and fastened Pearl’s leash. Then she tugged her along toward the beach but hadn’t gotten half a block before Pearl stopped to do her business. While she waited for her, she spotted Tito heading up the street with Bart in tow.

“You’re out early,” she said.

“I could say the same to you,” he said. “I’d have waited if I knew you’d be on the crack-of-dawn shift.”

Elodie smiled. “This is unusual. I’m going to try to get her back on a later schedule. In the city I have a dog walker, so it’s enough of an adjustment without starting at this ungodly hour.”

“A dog walker?” he said. “You mean, when you’re away on a vacation?”

“No,” she said. “Every day.”

He laughed. “You’re pulling my leg.”

“No,” she said slowly, suddenly self-conscious. “Why would you think that?”

“You pay someone, every day, to walk your own dog?”

“Well . . . yes.”

He laughed harder.

“I don’t see what’s so funny.” She crossed her arms.

“It just seems like a waste,” he said.

“I can afford it.”

“No. I mean, it’s a waste to have a dog but not really care for it. These morning walks with Bart are my favorite time of the day. I wouldn’t miss them for the world.”