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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

It felt good to brag about Avery through her artwork this way, because Michael wanted Ann to know that his daughter was beautiful and bright, and that she wasn’t the red-haired stepchild or pushy outsider Ann likely thought her to be.

It took a while, but Ann began to return in kind, and the refrigerator slowly became a metallic Switzerland. Michael saw that Ann had posted a photo of Noah eating an ice cream at Emack & Bolio’s, and a clipping from the Cape Cod Times of Noah leading a kayak expedition as part of a youth group at sea camp. Michael couldn’t get over how much the kid looked like Anthony, but still different. Anthony’s hair had been straight, while Noah’s had some wave to it. They were both stocky, but Anthony’s build had been more solid. Noah wasn’t chubby, not exactly, but he looked like he still had some baby fat he hadn’t grown out of yet. Anthony was intimidating, while Noah seemed approachable. Noah looked like someone who wanted to make friends, while Anthony was on his guard. Michael wanted to meet this kid, and he was grateful Noah hadn’t grown up with Anthony in his life, because he was the kind of kid Anthony wouldn’t have wanted to deal with.

MICHAEL KNEW HE’D HAVE TO TALK to Ann eventually. So far, thanks to their lawyers, he hadn’t had to say a single word to her. But that couldn’t last. They weren’t permitted to do any major remodeling or repairs unless they were in agreement. Fortunately, nothing major had come up so far, although the old oil furnace probably wouldn’t make it through another winter, and Michael was starting to think about a kitchen remodel. He had a feeling Ann was, too. With that awful mushroom-print wallpaper, how could she not? The drawers swelled shut in the summer and hung loose in the winter. The Formica countertops curled up at the edges, revealing moldy particleboard underneath. The old faucets leaked, and the linoleum floors were pocked and chipped.

He could subcontract the job himself, but he knew Ann would have good ideas about the layout and a strong opinion about the details. It was a big project, one they’d need to sit down and discuss, and they’d need to agree on a budget.