“I see,” said Jeremy. “Did they walk over to the club by themselves?”

Lu shook her head.

“They couldn’t have walked over to the club with my mother, because my mother called me, and she was here, she wasn’t with the boys.”

“Right,” whispered Lu.

“So . . . who’d they walk over with?”

“Maggie.” She watched a small muscle in Jeremy’s jaw clench and unclench.

“Maggie, who you said you weren’t going to use anymore?”

“It’s not what you think,” she said. “It’s not even remotely what you think. It’s not what your mother thinks.” And then she took a deep, deep breath. She said, “It started a while ago, when the boys were little.” It occurred to her that this could also be an explanation for a love affair. Then, in a voice that was so shaky and uncertain it didn’t even sound like hers, she told him all of it.

Chapter 54

ANTHONY

HE HAD THE feeling that if he could only talk about everything with Joy it would all make sense—he could recapture the sense of peace he’d felt those weeks with her. But he couldn’t find her. He couldn’t find Maggie either. The Jeep wasn’t outside the cottage and nobody answered the door. He could hear Pickles sniffling and snuffling on the other side, though, so he let himself in. Pickles greeted him joyfully, like he was a sailor who’d been at sea for six months. Anthony couldn’t get over how much Pickles licked his face and pawed at him and nibbled at his ears. It felt like the dog wanted to climb right inside his shirt with him.

“Well, that makes one of you,” he told Pickles. Pickles wriggled her hindquarters so hard Anthony thought her tail might fall off.

“Joy?” Anthony called. “Maggie?” The cottage was quiet and immaculate. Nobody answered.

He called Cassie: she didn’t pick up her phone. She didn’t want to talk to him; she was hurt and angry. He texted her. Storm coming. R u someplace safe? No answer.

He tried Joy Bombs—Olivia Rossi was there, but Joy wasn’t. Olivia told Anthony the shop was closing early because of the storm; Joy had called to tell her but hadn’t said where she was calling from. Anthony looked for Joy’s Jeep at Mansion Beach and Scotch Beach. He drove up Spring Street. He lucked out with parking at Mohegan Bluffs, arriving just as somebody else was leaving. He ran down all 141 steps. Nope. He jogged back up. He didn’t have to stop even once to catch his breath, but little good that did him now.

He drove all the way out to Corn Neck Road and checked out Settlers’ Rock. All he found was a family of five having their photo taken by a kid in a blue sweatshirt that said Art Academy of Cincinnati. “Say, ‘Christmas!’” said the photographer. “Think snow! Let’s get this done before the storm starts!”

“Christmas!” said the family members obligingly. They smiled.

Anthony didn’t want to think snow. He wanted to think about Joy. He wanted to talk to Joy. Where was she? His head was spinning. He stood for a moment and gazed out at the water, and he thought about what a different person he was from the one who had first driven up this road in June, thinking that the island was too small to hold his regrets and his grief on its shores. How wrong he’d been.