Noah was actually a lot like Poppy. Sometimes he started his sentences the way Poppy started hers, like “Wouldn’t it be great if…” or “Don’t you think that…” He was always imagining possibilities.

The wind picked up off the river and blew so hard she could have been pushed over. Stay loose, stay loose.

Cars, bikes, and other runners zipped past her as she ran. It felt like everyone had a place they were supposed to go, including Poppy, who was planning to come to the Cape as soon as she had the house in Milwaukee squared away. Ann wasn’t holding her breath.

Ann ran so fast that it felt as if she were fleeing the scene of a crime. She wished she could start running toward something instead of away, but what?

She would have to face Poppy’s questions. There was so much Ann hadn’t told her, so much Poppy didn’t know. It seemed every question started with Michael, and every answer circled back to Anthony. Don’t think about Anthony!

She tried to push away her last image of him, slumped in a wing chair, blood trickling out of his nose, his mouth.

TWENTY-ONE

Poppy

Dawn, Connie’s best friend, met Poppy in the baggage claim of General Mitchell Airport, an airport Poppy hadn’t set foot in since she’d come home for Christmas a decade ago, when Ann and Noah had waited for her just beyond security. Noah was jumping up and down with excitement, unsure which traveler she was. Is that her? she could still overhear him asking. Is that her? And Ann saying, excited, “That’s her!”

Dawn wrapped her up in a warm, fragrant hug that smelled like department store perfume. They stood like that for a while, clinging to each other and crying, until Poppy’s giant and worn backpack containing everything she owned, and decorated with a slew of colorful airport tags, slipped off the conveyor belt and landed with a thud against the bumper rail, like a dead body.

Poppy almost didn’t recognize Dawn, even though she’d once been a steady presence in her life. She looked a lot older than she had the last time Poppy had seen her, heavier. Had it really been a decade?

Dawn took Poppy’s hand and gave it a chubby pat. “Just look at you, as beautiful as ever. And so tan! I sure wish you could have brought the sunshine and warmth here with you. Where were you again? Hawaii?”

“Panama. On an island called Isla Colón.”

“Panama! Well, how about that. There’s a place I’ve never been.”

“It’s nice,” Poppy said. “You’d like it.”

“I’d like any place without this crud.” She pointed at a chunk of snow outside the window. “I keep telling myself I’ll retire somewhere warm, but who am I kidding? My whole pathetic life is here.”