Maybe Billy was right—a radical change was called for. Maybe the way to save her daughter would be to let her spread her wings and explore.

Twelve

STEWARDESS: I’m being shanghaied.

IMAKEPESTO: You say that like it’s a bad thing. What’s up?

Camille stared at her computer screen. She and Finn had fallen into a pattern of chatting online and e-mailing regularly. Daily, in fact. And although she was embarrassed even to think it, their digital conversations were the best part of her day. What did that say about her, that the most compelling relationship in her life right now was with a guy thousands of miles away?

STEWARDESS: My father and daughter are determined that we’re going to spend the summer in Bellerive.

IMAKEPESTO: Trust me, there are worse places to spend the summer than the Var. I can’t wait for you to see it. You’re gonna love it. Why do you feel shanghaied?

STEWARDESS: Because I’m being forced to go somewhere against my will. I’m not big on travel anymore.

Lame, Camille, she thought. He’s going to think you’re so lame. He probably thinks so already.

IMAKEPESTO: You sound like my granny . . .

STEWARDESS: Ouch.

IMAKEPESTO: . . . but you look like a stewardess.

STEWARDESS: Double ouch. What decade are you from? The 1960s?

IMAKEPESTO: You’re trying to change the topic. What’s so bad about coming to see me?

STEWARDESS: I’m not coming to see you.

IMAKEPESTO: Ouch.

STEWARDESS: I’m coming to help my father deal with his property. And maybe some things from his past.

IMAKEPESTO: So how did they shanghai you? In case I need to do it myself one day.

STEWARDESS: They renewed my passport without my permission OR my signature. Total forgery. Federal offense.

IMAKEPESTO: How’d they get a passport photo?

STEWARDESS: Too easy. I have the whole setup at my house. My friend Billy and I had an instant passport-photo service when we were first starting our business. Julie found one in the right format on my computer.

IMAKEPESTO: Julie sounds clever. Like her mother.

STEWARDESS: Then my father got the tickets. First class on Air France. I’m sure it cost him the moon.

IMAKEPESTO: Oh, the torture. Tell your dad to PLEASE shanghai me.

STEWARDESS: Anyway . . . It’s my long-winded way of telling you we’re spending the summer in Bellerive.

IMAKEPESTO: You have no idea how happy that makes me.

STEWARDESS: Really? Why?

IMAKEPESTO: Because I kissed you, and it was cool, and I can’t stop thinking about you.

STEWARDESS: I never know when you’re being serious or kidding around.

IMAKEPESTO: Then you’ll have to get to know me better and find out.

STEWARDESS: Or you could just tell me.

IMAKEPESTO: Where’s the fun in that? Okay, let’s tell each other one fact about ourselves. I’ll start. I know how to ride a bicycle backward. Really well.

STEWARDESS: I’m impressed. My turn: I haven’t been on an airplane in five years.

IMAKEPESTO: Whoa, why not? Fear of flying?