There was no way Walter and the woman could have disappeared in that short time. Colleen broke free of Beckett and jogged the few yards to where they had stood only moments ago. She scanned the river walk, back and forth, and then looked toward the parking lot to see them climb into a bright red VW Bug—he in the passenger side, she in the driver’s seat.

“Walter!” She hadn’t planned on calling out his name; she hadn’t planned on running toward the car. But she did.

The driver was quick on the pedal and the car gone before Colleen reached the pavement. Beckett was behind her in a moment. “Colleen . . .”

“I know that was him. He’s cheating on my sister.” Tightness gripped her chest.

“I’m sorry.” Beckett’s voice came sad and low in her ear.

“I have to go home. I have to tell her.”

“Are you sure it was him? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said with certainty now. “But what I’m not so sure of is if she’ll believe me; she’ll think I’m making it up to get back at her or . . .”

“I don’t think it so much matters what anyone believes as long as we speak the truth, right?”

Colleen stared at this man she’d only come to know days before and smiled at him. “Who are you, Yoda?”

He laughed so deeply that Colleen could only smile in return.

Chapter Twenty-three

Except for memory, time would have no meaning at all.

Pat Conroy, Beach Music

SIX DAYS UNTIL THE PARTY . . .

Morning came with the sound of Colleen’s nieces’ voices overlapping outside, and she knew that her sister was at the house, and she knew what she must do—tell the truth. Colleen had slept as poorly as if she’d slept on a bench at the river park where she’d seen Walter kiss that woman. She rose with dread and dressed quickly, poured a fortifying cup of coffee and went to find Hallie and the girls on the screened porch.

Rosie and Sadie sat on either side of Hallie as she read to them from a picture book that Colleen recognized from their childhood—Where the Wild Things Are. Hallie’s voice lowered with great authority and her girls laughed.

Colleen entered and they all looked at her, the overhead light falling onto their faces causing shadows that made the little girls indistinguishable from one another. “Aunt Lena!” The one on the left jumped off the swing and ran to her side. It was Sadie, the more reticent of the two.

“Hi, girls.”

Hallie sat stock-still. “There you are. We were hoping you’d be up soon.”

“Can I talk to you?” Colleen couldn’t find small talk or jolly jokes for the little girls.

“Yes.” Hallie shifted on the large seat and Rosie jumped down with her sister.

“Does this mean we need to go inside?”

“Yes, sweetie.”