“I went to William-Dean—the private college about half an hour from here.”

“I know William-Dean. Then you must’ve at least come here a lot in college—to go out or go to the games.”

“Not really. . . .”

“Oh.” Amy again felt as if she were floating, lost. How had Nick come to meet this woman, marry her? None of this made sense, like a picture blurred and off-kilter.

Eliza and Amy turned together in some synchronous mother-way to watch Jack and Lisbeth mingle with their friends. Eliza began to talk of her family, of her sons at home—All-State wrestling and football.

Amy turned back to Eliza and stared at her. She guessed from Eliza’s matching linen pants and shirt, her forehead which didn’t move or wrinkle, her diamond-stud earrings that were bigger than Amy’s engagement ring, that Eliza’s and Amy’s paths in college would never have crossed. Amy’s group was more the “Let’s go to the beach and find a place to crash—don’t forget your bathing suit,” while Eliza’s clique seemed to be the “Let’s go to my parents’ condo in Hilton Head—pack your Gucci bag and don’t forget the curling iron and blow-dryer.”

When Eliza asked Amy what she did, Amy told her about her part-time job at SCAD and although she considered telling her about the island—about the house and land she was trying to save—she was too distracted to even try, and she wasn’t sure Eliza was interested in much aside from her matching shoes and purse. So Amy smiled and cooed when appropriate and talked of her own daughter, a senior in high school and a Georgia state tennis champion in her age group.

Nick entered their sphere a few times to give his comments or opinion on talk that Amy could later never remember. She used her energy to regain her composure after he moved away. She would not allow the past to come rushing at her without warning, flaring heat inside her as she chatted with Nick’s wife. It was . . . inappropriate.

“I’ve been thinking.” Eliza looked away and then back to Amy. “Jack and Lisbeth seem so happy, so . . . I was wondering if you—you and Phil—would like to come to our lake house next weekend with the kids? I think it would be fun. We could all get acquainted while the kids hang out.”

“The lake house?”

“Yes. Well, actually it’s my parents’, but my sister and I share it. It’s at Lake Hardin—that should only be a couple hours from y’all in Darby.”

Ah, yes. Amy remembered parties in college that she had never been invited to on the exclusive lake in South Carolina.

“Yes,” she found herself saying. “Well, Phil has a busy schedule with work, but . . .”

“Well, that’s the benefit of Nick working for Daddy—he can always make his own schedule.”

For Daddy?