It did and it didn’t. While a lack of supplies was part of the reason Alice hadn’t been painting, it wasn’t the whole reason. She also connected the activity with her father, or the man she used to think was her father, Phil. Phil was a trumpeter, jazz by training and inclination, but often taking jobs with rock bands to pay the bills. He was in Japan right now, doing sideman work for a pianoless quartet, and had been out of contact with the family since he and Maggie split at Christmas. He and Alice had always been close, their shared artistic interests a strong bond between them. Picking up a paintbrush or a sketching pencil now only reminded her of him, of all she’d lost in learning the secret of her paternity.

“I’ve got something for you,” Tommy said. “Well, for us. Wait here.”

He disappeared, and a minute later she heard the slam of a trunk. When he reappeared, he had a blanket draped over his shoulder, a couple of plastic bags dangling from his wrist.

“You brought lunch?” Alice said, delighted.

“I wasn’t sure what kind of sandwiches you liked so I got a few—tuna salad, ham and swiss, roast beef. There’s a vegetarian option in there, too. Avocado and cheddar, I think. Take whichever you want. I like them all equally. And there’s fruit salad and soda, diet and regular, and chocolate chip cookies for dessert.”

“Oh, Tommy,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck, “you went to so much trouble.”

“It was no trouble,” he said, blushing. “I mean, I wanted to do it.”

There were a scattered tables and benches around the base of the lighthouse. Alice and Tommy, though, chose to have their picnic on a shady spot a couple hundred yards away from the area designated for the public, just on the other side of a swell in the land and so out of sight. They spread the blanket on a bit of ground that was half grass, half sand, laid out the food and drinks.

After they’d finished eating, Alice curled up next to Tommy, settling her head in the crook of his arm. It was a warm day rather than a hot one, a soft breeze passing over her, working its way into her clothes. As she stared at the sky above, watching a fat white cloud blow across the sun, momentarily eclipsing it, she realized that she hadn’t thought about her mom or Richard or her fight with Charlie in almost an hour, and it was because of Tommy and the perfect afternoon he’d arranged. She stretched her neck up, pressing her lips to the underside of his jaw. He laughed and told her she was tickling him, then leaned over and kissed her for real.