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Chapters (47)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraphs
  5. Prologue
  6. Part One
  7. ONE
  8. TWO
  9. THREE
  10. FOUR
  11. FIVE
  12. SIX
  13. SEVEN
  14. EIGHT
  15. NINE
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. Part Two
  25. EIGHTEEN
  26. NINETEEN
  27. TWENTY
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. TWENTY-SEVEN
  35. TWENTY-EIGHT
  36. TWENTY-NINE
  37. THIRTY
  38. THIRTY-ONE
  39. THIRTY-TWO
  40. THIRTY-THREE
  41. THIRTY-FOUR
  42. THIRTY-FIVE
  43. THIRTY-SIX
  44. THIRTY-SEVEN
  45. Acknowledgments
  46. About the Author
  47. Newsletter Sign-up

There was nothing Maureen could do, Ann knew this. Yet the little glimmer of hope made Ann feel better. “Let’s hear it,” Ann said. She’d indulge her, even though Anthony’s debts had cleaned her out. Now Ann had more money than Maureen did.

Maureen tapped her glass against Ann’s. “You won’t believe it, my dear. The most wonderful thing happened recently. Terrible and wonderful, which is how wonderful comes to me these days, but this is such terribly wonderful good news. I think I can help you, Ann. Help both of us. If you’ll let me.”

THIRTY-FOUR

Poppy

Poppy walked along the shore of Duck Harbor Beach. It was nice to be there so early in the day. She was reminded of the morning she’d gone surfing with Dirk, when she was in her wet suit before the sun had come out. That’s when she first learned how special it was to commune with the ocean in the dark, the water black, endless, lumbering, and mysterious, shimmering in the moonlight.

She’d walked for half an hour or so, and already the sun had begun to rise from under last night’s heavy cloud cover. The beach and sky were bathed in a dusty, rose-colored light. Seeking calm and a clearer head, she’d chosen to walk the bay instead of the back shore. The water here was less aggressive; the waves were gentler. Her mother had always preferred the less dramatic bay side for picnics and beachcombing, and even though Poppy surfed, she suspected she preferred the bay side, too.

When she looked up the long beach, she could see Pilgrim Monument in P-town way off in the distance. She noticed the ribbons of seaweed marking the highest crest of the last very high tide. Terns picked at the sand, while gulls swooped overhead. She took a deep breath of the salty air and tried to relax. It helped to think of Brad. That morning he got out of bed to make coffee for her. She explained that she needed to spend some time alone, and he handed her an old Campbell-plaid thermos, the one her father used to take with him when he’d gone fishing, and kissed her on the forehead. “I understand,” he said. “I’ll hang here with Noah. He promised to show me some of the tools in the barn. Good thing your dad told him what they were used for back in the day. They look like they belong in a surgical museum.”