He held up the magazine. “I found an article in here about the coastal preservation association. I’ve been thinking of joining their board. What do you know about the group?”

Christina relaxed, sipped her wine, and took a moment to think. “I don’t know who’s on that board. Nantucket has several environmental conservation organizations. To be honest, everyone loves the island and wants to protect it, but not everyone agrees on exactly how to do that.”

Andy nodded. “I think I understand. I’ve been on some boards in the city that raise funds for various museums and symphonies. But mostly those have been boards I feel obligated to be on because of my mother’s interests.” He drank some wine. “I’ve been thinking about our talk at Fifty-Six Union. I don’t want to rush in here like some rich city guy and throw my money around and get my face in the paper. Maybe it sounds odd, or arrogant, but I think I’ve changed during the few months I’ve spent on the island—and I know my connection to this place can’t compare with yours, or with that of anyone who grew up here.”

Christina nodded, listening.

“I sailed here this summer,” Andy said. He let out a long breath. “Sailing can be such a powerful experience, even on the quietest day. I’d go up into the Polpis Harbor, or out past the Jetties, and it seemed that everything in my life just fell away, like a weight slipping off my back. I was simply there with the clear water and the unpredictable wind. The sail would luff, and it was like a live thing breathing. The main sheet would tug in my hand like an invisible spirit. I’ve never felt more myself, and never been so far away from the man I’ve been for years.”

“Andy, that’s wonderful,” Christina said. “You sound like a poet.”

“I probably sound like a jackass,” Andy said, grinning. “Just another guy who has an earthy-crunchy moment of bliss.”

“No, you’re wrong,” Christina told him, and now she leaned forward. “Andy, lots of people summer here, sail here, play tennis here, because it’s chic. So many guys I know—good guys, nice guys—sail because it’s fun, and they toss back beers and capsize and right the boat and howl with laughter. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard anyone talk the way you just did.”

“You probably think I’m a nerd.”

“I don’t think that. I think…I think you’re remarkable.” And here we go, her IC groaned.