It was true that his new job didn’t sound as impressive as Mitch’s or Mom’s. But it sounded a lot better than what he used to do, trying to sell real estate when nobody seemed to be buying houses. Or at least, no one seemed to be buying houses from him.

Then he asked question after question. About which events she was swimming and who her friends were and what the best part was about summer in Gray Island. Ten questions in a row—like there were so many things he wanted to know—and not a single one about how she was doing in school.

She started to write back immediately, but it would take a long time to reply to all those questions in just the right way. She stopped partway through, leaving the rest to come back to later.

It was the first time she could ever remember leaving questions until the next day because she was looking forward to finishing them and didn’t want to rush, not because she got too discouraged and had no idea what to say.

Chapter 27

That night, as Annabelle lay there in bed picturing Caroline snuggled up next to Connor, she almost convinced herself she could leave Gray Island and go live with her dad.

The shame she felt over Connor—it was big. Really, really big. But it probably wasn’t anywhere near as big as the shame Dad had felt that day when her old coach had sent him home from swim practice. If her shame was as long as the marsh that stretched along the bottom part of the island, his was probably ocean-sized.

He was proof that people messed up sometimes and could bounce back and be okay. That not everybody did the right thing all the time. Maybe he would understand her in a way Mom and Mitch didn’t.

But then the next morning, Mitch knocked on her door. “Waffles or pancakes?” he asked, as if that were even a question. And she couldn’t imagine not living with him, even though things had been weird.

Waffles were still her favorite, just like they had been the day she and Mitch had first met and he’d made her a whipped cream smiley face. As the first batch filled the kitchen with their sweet, warm smell, she breathed it in and tried to calm down.

Maybe last night hadn’t been quite as humiliating as she’d thought. Maybe Ruby and Genevieve and those other girls didn’t actually realize what had happened with her and Connor. And maybe Connor didn’t actually realize she liked him. Maybe he’d been about to tell her something else. About swim team or something.

Maybe it wasn’t quite as obvious as she’d feared, how badly she fit here. Only Mom noticed the barely different wood beams on the deck. Maybe only Annabelle knew what a mess she’d made of everything.

When Mitch dropped her off for her first physical therapy session the next morning, things felt almost normal between them.