She turned and looked at Bill. He and Tina had gotten married after her first one had failed, and they’d been together for fourteen years. He wasn’t crazy about the furnishings business, always grumbling about how much time it took Tina away from him, but he’d never failed to be there when his support was required.

Like tonight. He hated crowds, and here he was in his suit and tie. A wrinkled ill-fitting suit and tie, but he’d tried. He wasn’t quite as tall as she, and was used to being towered over by the women in his life. He had a mop of wild gray hair that always made her think of Albert Einstein, a poet’s sorrow-filled blue eyes, and the stained, callused hands of a ceramic artist.

And a big glass of what was undoubtedly spiked punch in his hand.

“Yes, I’m missing being outside,” she said with a smile for the first person in O.B. who hadn’t looked at her with wariness, frustration, or open hostility. She wondered if he still took Prozac like water to even out his moods. Or maybe he really was fond of her. “I miss it a lot.”

“How’s your mom?”

“Unnerved by the fire.”

He sighed, sending his hair into movement like wild cotton in the wind. Gray cotton. “An unfortunate coincidence, that was.” He looked around at the interior of the new shop, at the fresh, bright paint he’d put on the walls himself, and all the beachy stock within them. One entire wall was devoted to his handmade lighthouses. “Nice, huh?” he asked.

“It’s great.”

“Yeah. Great.”

But they both sighed unhappily. “With all the free food and drink around on every surface, no one’ll ever want to leave,” he grumbled. “This thing’ll go all night.”

“The trick is to get out of here before the crowd shows up,” she said.

Just the thought made her feel better, until she remembered Camille had picked her up and brought her here. At the time it’d seemed like a good idea, a way to spend an extra few minutes together, but now she realized the folly of that. She was stuck without a ride.

Bill looked at his watch. “If you’re going to escape, you’d better hurry. People are going to arrive.”

Too late. A couple walked in, followed by a handful of others. Then Diana and Madeline called her over to help finish the balloons and put out the boat-shaped party favors.

Around them the place began to hum with conversation and laughter. Summer concentrated on breathing and hanging balloons. It wasn’t too crowded yet, she assured herself. Not crowded at all. Just because her toes had been stepped on twice already and she couldn’t see the front door…

“Here. Pour.” Diana handed her the champagne and a tray of glasses. “And look alive,” she said, then turned to grab Madeline.