Anthony unpacked his single suitcase into the dark recesses of the dresser drawers. Next he started up the old Le Baron and followed the directions on his iPhone to the Block Island Grocery, a gray-shingled building that smelled of sea air and tourism. Once inside, he saw that the produce section looked like it could fit in the pocket of the produce section at his local Whole Foods. He spent three thousand dollars on four items. (Not really, but it felt like it.) Even to get those four items he had to fight through the throng of people waiting in line at the deli for their sandwiches to take to the beach. They all looked so happy, so hopeful. So sandy! He couldn’t stand it.

As he was leaving the store he perused the notices on the bulletin board. Somebody was selling a mini-fridge; seven other people were selling surfboards; a housecleaning crew of six respectable, responsible women was looking for summer housing. But was anyone selling peace? Was anyone selling absolution? A place to live, a career?

He drove to the end of Corn Neck Road, passing three wobbly bicyclists—wobbly, maybe, because the big wicker baskets on the front of the bikes, stuffed with beach towels, set them off balance. The road ended in a small parking lot. Across a vast sea of rocks he could see a lighthouse, and a small pack of people trooping toward it on foot.

He turned the car around. Was this all there was to this island? Was this really it? What should he do now? He could go back downtown. (He put air quotes over the word in his mind; one street did not a downtown make.) He could get ice cream, but he wasn’t hungry. He could buy a T-shirt, but he’d packed seven of his favorite gray shirts and didn’t need one. And anyway those activities might require smiling. They would definitely require interaction with human beings. And for sure they’d require money. No, thank you, to all three.

He proceeded back down Corn Neck Road. In no time at all he came to the seashell driveway, the cottage.

Anthony had come here to hide from the world. But how on earth was he going to be able to hide in a place so small?

Chapter 2

JOY

www.DinnerByDad.com

You might think, chili in the summer? Believe me, I know. But trust me. This dish has enough light flavors and summer vegetables (hello, yellow squash!) for even the longest day of the year. And speaking of long days! When Jacqui comes home after a long day in the courtroom there’s nothing Charlie and Sammy and I like better than to have a fabulous one-pot meal waiting. Cleanup is a breeze, and we can get right out and enjoy our evening. We wait a long time for summer out here, and when it finally arrives we don’t want to miss a minute of it!

Somebody was double-parked, blocking Joy’s spot with a well-worn tan Chrysler Le Baron. (Mid-nineties, she guessed.) “No way, mister,” she said out loud. “No way.” Still June, and already this was starting? No way. She didn’t live through the long, sometimes lonely winters here, the days when the wind whipped right off the Sound and sometimes the only living creatures you saw were your daughter and your dog, to have her parking spot usurped by a summer person. Joy leaned on the horn.