“We have enough in common. I studied at art school. He is an artist.”

“A union of kindred spirits, true harmony, is very much my idea of a good marriage. But above all, I wish for true love.”

“Love can also bring a person to ruin, or heartache.” She meant Eduard. When I bristled, she quickly changed the subject. “My aunt is gifting us two down comforters and four down pillows.” Her fingers fluttered in the air as if she was fluffing the pillows already. “Mama is giving me another double set for when we shall have guests staying with us. Do you think that will be enough?”

“Mmm.” A man and a woman descended the steps of our resort, distracting me. They cut across the sand to the water’s edge. They stood in place for a few seconds, the man with his hands on his hips, the woman straight backed and holding a parasol, as if conducting an inspection. Then they marched back. “On a day visit, with ‘see the sea’ on their calendar, checked,” I speculated, then felt a flash of shame at ridiculing them. Judge not, so you yourself shall not be judged. “Perhaps I am the same. Finish school, pass exams, gain teaching certificate—all checked, one after the other. Be patient until Eduard’s proposal. Except, I’ve never had patience. And now I’m losing even hope. Will I ever know happiness?”

“I imagine happiness like needlepoint. Dots of color, precious moments placed next to each other as time passes, small joys doled out over a lifetime.” A dreamy smile stretched Anna’s enviable, fashionably thin lips. “You look back, after forty or fifty years, and you see the most beautiful picture.”

“I’d take a year of pure joy over small moments spread out over a lifetime.” I’d been gathering those moments for years. A glimpse. A smile. A flower gifted. They stubbornly refused to add up to a proposal. Eduard’s small gestures were too few and too far between, leaving me starved. “I would prefer unbridled passion.”

We reached the steps and hurried up, cutting across the wooden walkway. Thump, thump, thump, our shoes tapped out a rhythm, a strange heartbeat.

The porter opened the Kurhause’s front door for us. “Mevrouw Bonger. Mevrouw Dirk.”

We crossed the high-ceilinged lobby, leaving a light dusting of sand on the marble floor in our wake.

Anna careened around an assistant who pushed a cart of vitamin water. “Mama will be in a mood if we made her wait.”

We marched past another assistant who was helping an older gentleman to his feet, then we burst into the apartment, Anna first.

Nobody was waiting for us.

“We’re not late.” She was breathless with relief.

I simmered with impatience. She stood between me and the hall table. “The mail?”

“Oh. Here. Two for you. One from Dries, and one from Theo.” She handed me the letters. “The rest are all for Papa.”