Table of Contents
ALSO BY LUANNE RICE
Deep Blue Sea for Beginners
The Geometry of Sisters
Last Kiss
What Matters Most
The Edge of Winter
Sandcastles
Summer of Roses
Summers Child
Silver Bells
Beach Girls
Dance with Me
The Perfect Summer
The Secret Hour
True Blue
Safe Harbor
Summer Light
Firefly Beach
Dream Country
Follow the Stars Home
Cloud Nine
Home Fires
Blue Moon
Secrets of Paris
Stone Heart
Crazy in Love
Angels All Over Town
For Jessie Cantrell, Mike OGorman,
Sarah Walker, and Ted OGorman
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, I am grateful to Andrea Cirillo.
My sincere gratitude also goes to the teams at Pamela Dorman Books/ Viking and Penguin Books, especially to Pam Dorman, Julie Miesionczek, Clare Ferraro, Kathryn Court, Dick Heffernan, Norman Lidofsky and their fantastic sales teams, Lindsay Prevette, Carolyn Coleburn, Nancy Sheppard, Andrew Duncan, Rachelle Andujar, Stephen Morrison, John Fagan, Maureen Donnelly, Hal Fessenden, Leigh Butler, Roseanne Serra, and Amy Hill.
Much gratitude to Ron Bernstein.
Thank you to Amelia Onorato for showing me the process of creating a graphic novel.
I am thankful to Jessie Cantrell and Mike OGorman. My cats would especially like to thank Ted OGorman and Hallie Clarke.
Many thanks to Adrian Kinloch.
Thank you to Audrey OBrien Loggia for sharing the Vineyard, Galway, and St. Clerans with me.
Sending good wishes to James Lee in Ireland, with thanks for all the wonderful places he showed me.
PART I
Three white frosts on three successive mornings were taken by old-time Vineyarders as a sort of scriptural ending of winter and beginning of spring.
HENRY BEETLE HOUGH
CHAPTER ONE
Dar McCarthy sat on the granite step of her mothers rambling, gray-shingled house, listening to surf break beyond the pond. There had been a gale last night, driving in wild ocean waves, and through the salt ponds wide bight she could see gray-green seawater tower and crash, the foam bright white in the first morning light.
Last nights high wind had blown out all the clouds, and the dawn sky was turning what Delia used to call happy blue. The sun hadnt yet melted the frost, which glimmered on the old stone walls and spiky brown grass, the lilac branches and the stone Buddha in the herb garden. Her mothers ancient cats skulked home from a night of hiding under the barn, looking tufty and tiny and old.
What did you catch? she asked. They ignored her as usual, rubbing at the screen door to be let in, leaving snags of gray fur in the wire mesh. Dar obliged them, reaching up to twist the brass knob behind her head. As the five cats ran in, Scup, her mothers black Lab, ambled out. He made a quick round of the yard, padding paw prints in the frost, then came to sit beside her on the step. They leaned into each other.
Scup nosed her hand with his white muzzle. He was thin; she could feel the ridge of his spine. She petted him for a while, and then he barked. She had promised him a car ride. Standing, she patted the pockets of her down vest to make sure she had her car keys.
They never locked this house, called Daggetts Way centuries before Dar was born, and she never locked the Hideaway, her tiny yellow beach cottage at the west end of her familys fifteen-acre property on the Atlantic Ocean in Chilmark, Massachusetts.
Opening the hatchback of her teal blue Subaru, she let Scup in and smelled the fresh air. Daffodils were ready to bloom in clumps around the yard and by the corner of the weathered shingle house; tiny buds had formed on tips of the lilac bushes. After a long, cold Marthas Vineyard winter, April was here. Dars hands felt icy, so she closed the hatch and jammed them in her pockets. She was shivering not only from the morning chill.
She knew this feeling so well, from when she was twelve; everything that mattered in life was about to give way. Back then shed had no real preparation, but now small warnings were everywhere: bills, deadlines, contracts, constant and unwanted calls and e-mails from Island Properties.
Climbing into the car, she discovered that Scup had jumped into the passenger seat. She looked into his deep brown eyes and wondered if he sensed impending change. He had seen the boxes she had been collecting from Alleys and the Chilmark Store.
Pulling out the driveway onto South Road, she knew she was early to meet the ferry. She turned right, passing the cemetery, driving along the oak- and stone-wall-lined road, seeing the sun rise over the trees. One car came toward her, heading westanother year-rounder. They both waved. She turned into the parking lot at Alleys Store, scanned the trucks for Andy Mayhews. There it was, dirty white with a hoist in back and his logo painted on the door.
She climbed the porch steps, looked for Andy but didnt see him, said hi to everyone standing around drinking coffee. Stopping at the bulletin board, she riffled through all the business cards and notices until she found a note written on a thick card embossed with Harrison Thaxters family crest; this was how they communicated.
When are the girls arriving? hed scrawled in fountain pen. Reaching for the pencil dangling from the board by a string, she wrote back, Today! Then, not knowing whether hed be by any time soon, she added, (Friday, April 9th).
Whens he going to get a phone? Andy asked, handing her a large steaming black coffee.
Whens he going to get a house? she asked.
They both chuckled. Andy, Harrison, the McCarthy sisters, and a tight group of friends had grown up herefirst summering on the island, then some of them digging in and becoming yearrounders.
You okay? Andy asked, standing close, their arms touching.
Yes, she said. Going to pick up my sisters. I cant wait.
You sure about that? he asked. He was tall, and the top of her head just grazed his chin.
Pretty sure, she said, giving him a big smile, as if they hadnt talked about this last night, as if her sheets might not still be warm from where theyd slept. Its going to be hard, getting ready to leave all this.
You dont have to he began.
Thanks, Andy, she said, putting her finger to his lips.
You want me to come with you? he asked.
She shook her head. You have a stone wall to repair.
I found some pretty granite, covered with lichens, he said. Will you come see later?
Ill try, she said. Its going to be sister time for the foreseeable future.
He started to say something else but stopped himself.
What? she asked, but he shook his head.
See you tonight, he said.
They pressed each others hands, and she made her way back to the car. Backing out of the parking lot, she rolled down the window to wave. Sipping coffee, she let the chilly air in.
