Philipʹs buddy threw up on him.ʺ ʺOh!ʺ ʺThat was after the other kids bet the buddy that he couldnʹt eat four hot dogs in four minutes.ʺ
ʺI see. I guess summer camp is where boys train to be frat brothers.ʺ
Will grinned at her, and she slipped her hand in his. ʺPhilipʹs group is called the Badgers. Heʹs the best pitcher and hitter of the Badgers.ʺ
ʺOf course heʹs the best. Heʹs my brother.ʺ Will laughed. ʺHe likes rowing. I canʹt wait till he comes for vacation — I want to take him kayaking on Pleasant Bay.ʺ
Ivy turned to look at Will. His dark hair whipped in the breeze. He had the longest lashes, which softened his intense brown eyes. ʺIf I remember right,ʺ she said, ʺyou promised him that you two would dress up as pirates.ʺ
ʺRight, well, maybe heʹll forget about that part.ʺ Ivy shook her head, grinning.
ʺPhilip doesnʹt forget that kind of promise. I hope you two donʹt terrorize girls sunbathing on the beach.ʺ Will laughed and put his arm around her shoulder.
They walked on, talking about Philip, then shifting their conversation to some of the week‐end’s quirky guests. ʺThe people in the starfish room,ʺ Will said, re-ferring to the suite decorated in a scallop and starfish motif. ʺWas that woman his wife or mother?ʺ
ʺThe only thing Iʹm sure about is that she wasnʹt his younger lover.ʺ
ʺMaybe he is her younger lover,ʺ Will suggested. Ivy laughed out loud. ʺBernʹs going to be filling up her notebooks with characters.ʺ
They found the easy rhythm they had known for nearly eight months, walking and talking together.
Strolling back to Willʹs car, Ivy gazed up at the lighthouse, its double beacon turning against the starlit sky. ʺIf s beautiful,ʺ she said. ʺSo are you,ʺ Will replied softly, pulling her toward him.
Her arms slipped around him. He lowered his head. She would have known Willʹs kiss blindfolded — gentle, loving, asking, giving. She knew the curve of his upper lip, the place between his neck and shoulder where she often rested her head, the space between his knuckles that she liked to trace, and the way her hand fit into his. Ivy knew and loved these things, as much as she loved Willʹs kiss.
But she could not stop thinking of Tristan.
AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER, IVY STOOD ON THE cottage doorstep, watching Will as he whistled his way back to his; room in the renovated barn, where he hoped to get in some painting. Needing time and space to think, Ivy walked around to the ocean side of the inn. With just two couples staying on until Monday, the Adirondack chairs on the porch and lawn were empty. Shrubs edged the lawn, then gave way to scrub trees and brush that covered the steep side of the bluff down to sea level. At the end of the yard a vine‐covered arbor led to wooden steps, fifty‐two of them — Ivy had counted — running down to a narrow boardwalk that connected to a path through grassy dunes.
Halfway down the steps was a landing, a small platform with facing benches built into it. Ivy sat down, facing north. During the day, the view was spectacular, the ocean sweeping in behind a sandy point, making a sparkling inlet where lobs term en and pleasure boaters moored. On a moonless night like tonight, the boundaries of land, water, and sky were nearly indistinguishable; the dunes and beach were so deep, Ivy couldnʹt hear the waves break. But the ocean was present in the salty tang and damp breeze. It was like that when Ivy thought of Tristan — she couldnʹt see or hear him, but still, she sensed his closeness.
Ivy swallowed hard. What was wrong with her? She had dated Will much longer than she had known Tristan, so why couldnʹt she stop thinking of Tristan?
She remembered what Tristanʹs mother had once said to her: ʺWhen you love someone, itʹs never over. You move on because you have to, but you bring him with you in your heart.ʺ
Ivy had thought sheʹd succeeded in moving on. What pained her even more was that Will thought so too.
Ivy loved Will. But did she love him enough if she didnʹt love him the way she loved Tristan?
Maybe her idea of love was too lofty; maybe she expected too much of herself and Will.
Ivy descended to the sand, then walked to the edge of the water, finding release in the ceaseless rush and draw of the sea.
She had no idea how much time had elapsed, but when she finally returned to the cottage, she saw Beth standing on the front step, cell phone in hand. ʺIvy!
Thank God youʹre back!ʺ ʺIs something wrong?ʺ
ʺWeʹve got to get to Kelsey before she does something stupid. Stupider,ʺ Beth corrected herself, grimacing. ʺGet your car keys. Iʹve got the address, sort of.ʺ
ʺWhereʹs Dhanya?ʺ
ʺWith Kelsey. And only a little more sober than she is.ʺ
ʺWhereʹs Aunt Cindy?ʺ Ivy asked. ʺOut still.ʺ
Bethʹs cell phone rang. ʺHere we go again.ʺ After a moment of listening, she said, ʺDhanya, I told you before. Take the keys away from her. Throw them in the ocean if you have to. No, no! If s not a good idea for you to drive!ʺ
ʺBack in a sec,ʺ Ivy said. ʺShould I get Will?ʺ Beth called after her.
ʺNo, heʹs painting, and itʹll take too long for him to clean up.ʺ
Ivy returned with her keys and wallet, and they sprinted to the car. ʺWhere are we going?ʺ Ivy asked, starting the engine. ʺTo a road somewhere off Route Twenty‐eight.ʺ
ʺBeth, three‐quarters of Cape Cod is off Twenty‐eight!ʺ
ʺShe said Marsala Road. But Iʹve never heard of it.ʺ Ivy entered it into the GPS, with Orleans as the town, then Brewster, then Harwich. ʺNothingʹs coming up.ʺ
ʺShe said they passed a lighthouse. Try Eastham and Chatham — they have lighthouses. Chatham first My cousin always goes where the money is.ʺ
ʺMarsala Road, come on, Marsala Road,ʺ Ivy said
ʺMorris Island Road!ʺ Beth exclaimed suddenly. ʺI bet that was it. She was slurring her words. I think thereʹs a place in Chatham named Morris Island.ʺ
Ivy typed it in.
ʺI have an idea for a new app,ʺ Beth added, ʺone that interprets directions from drunken party girls.ʺ She pointed to the highlighted route on the screen. ʺThere it is, south of the lighthouse.ʺ
Ivy pulled out of the crushed stone driveway and onto Cockle Shell Road. ʺI know the way as far as the lighthouse. Will and I walked that beach tonight.ʺ
Ivy wound her way through the community. Once they got to Route 28, she pushed the speed limit, glad it was 11:50 p.m. and the weekend crowd had departed.
ʺI could strangle Kelsey,ʺ Beth said. ʺI could just strangle her.ʺ
ʺTry to get her on her cell.ʺ
ʺI did — I couldnʹt.ʺ
ʺThen try Dhanya again. We need an address.ʺ
As Ivy drove, she thought about Will. Heʹd be upset with them for not asking for his help. But Ivy couldnʹt ask one more favor, knowing all that he had already done for her, knowing that while she was kissing him, all she could think ofʺSheʹs not picking up,ʺ Beth said. ʺKeep trying.ʺ They drove through the commercial edge of Chatham and passed the lighthouse. Beach houses lined both sides of the road, most of their windows dark. ʺStage Harbor should be coming up on the right,ʺ Beth said, looking at the GPS screen. ʺThere it is. The road weʹre on goes directly to Morris Island. ʺ
A minute later they entered the islandʹs wooded community. Ivyʹs headlights showed a narrow, winding road and stripes of trees. ʺWant me to keep going?
Itʹs not that big of a place, just a few streets,ʺ she said, glancing at the map.
ʺMaybe we can go slowly and listen for the party.ʺ