She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “It’s quiet here in the winter, and I like that. I can catch my breath, read, watch television, go out with friends. There’s a rhythm to life here. Summer is an enormous challenge. It’s crazy busy. Work and parties and no time to sleep! I like it, though. It’s very cool to see my summer friends return. Over the years I get to know families because they visit the store, and it’s a delight to see how much taller the children are after a winter away, if a kid’s two front teeth fell out, if a woman is pregnant.” Christina put her elbows on the table, folded her hands, and leaned her chin on them, letting herself sink into her memories. “Sometimes the college girls who helped me in the summer have graduated, or fallen in love and come into the shop to show off their engagement rings and fiancés. The shoulder seasons with the Daffodil Festival in April and the Cranberry Festival in October bring in a different crowd. You should come for Daffodil weekend. It’s so much fun, a parade of decorated antique cars out to ’Sconset, and then everyone has the most remarkable tailgate picnics and the dogs are wearing collars made of daffodils, and the cars are absolutely smothered with daffodils.” Christina stopped. “I’m talking too much.”

“Not at all. This is fascinating.”

Christina took a deep breath. “Okay, then, I’ve scrambled the seasons, but I’ll get back to winter. After Christmas, we have time to slow down, have dinner with friends, walk on the beach—even in a parka because the waves can be so magnificent. So I guess I have to say I love it here in all the seasons. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

Andy nodded. “It all sounds great. I haven’t been here long, I know, but I feel like I get the island.” He set down his fork, folded his arms on the table, and leaned forward, his face intense, his eyes shining. “I’d like to start a philanthropic fund to help the conservation groups on the island. Not just for the land, but for the ocean, too. The island is a microcosm of what’s happening all up and down the East Coast. I’d like to see Bittlesman and Company pivot from making money toward giving money to organizations that need it. I want our company to make a difference in the world.”

“What does your father want?”

Andy leaned back. Frustration darkened his eyes. “He’s an old-fashioned man. He was raised to work hard and be frugal. For years, the high point of his life was being known as someone in the Forbes 400. His stroke made him reflect, but it’s not in his nature to be generous.”

I know, Christina thought, but kept that thought to herself.