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coming over to help Carley make several dozen cookies for the bake sale Margaret’s kindergarten class was running to raise money for a trip to Boston. Carley would talk things over with Vanessa then, and make plans to see Maud, too.
    Perhaps Carley could start a bake shop? She loved to bake. But there were already too many good bakeries on the island. Was there something she could sell on eBay? Should she take a course online? What kind of course? The wind whipped the waves up so that they crashed down on the sand in a relentless roar. The low winter sun sparkled on the water, sending shards of light into her eyes. She couldn’t think. She needed help. She’d be tired enough when she got home to be calm around her girls, and tomorrow she would begin again.

7
    • • • • •
    S aturday morning, Carley whipped her hair back into a high ponytail and slid her feet into flip-flops. She went down the back stairs. Sounds led her to the den, where Cisco and Margaret sat side by side on the sofa, munching cereal out of the box and staring at the television set. They were not supposed to watch television in the morning, but since their father’s death, Carley had relaxed the rules. Cisco and Margaret seemed normal now, after the first crushing weeks of sorrow and shock. And that was what mattered, that her girls were healthy and happy.
    “TV,” Carley said, disapproval in her voice.
    “It’s not TV,” Cisco argued sweetly, tossing her mother a glowing smile. “It’s
Swan Lake.
”
    Carley couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re going to grow up to be a lawyer.”
    “Just like Daddy and Granddad!” Margaret squealed. “I am, too!” She’d seen the DVD of the ballet before and didn’t really care about it, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be with her sister.
    And
there
! Carley thought, her heart lifting. Margaret mentioned her father without sadness, without crying. She was
healing
. They all were. She gave herself a moment to soak in the glory of her daughters. Their black hair, ebony eyes, and snowflake skin, direct genetic echoes of their father, gave them a fairy-tale-princess aura.Like their mother, they were tall and lanky, which sometimes made them clumsy. As adults, they would be stunners.
    She tore her eyes away. “I’m making coffee. Vanessa will be here soon.”
    While she drank her coffee and ate her granola, she flipped on the computer and scanned the newest recipes for cookies. She loved cooking and baking, loved experimenting with unusual ingredients. The kitchen was at the front of the house, facing the street, giving the long living room and den the fabulous blue views of the waters of Nantucket Sound. She’d see Vanessa’s SUV when she arrived.
    Carley was sipping her second cup of coffee as Vanessa parked her car, lifted out a bag of groceries, and came up the walk.
    No doubt about it: Vanessa was gorgeous. A sex bomb. Carley and Vanessa were the same age and the same height, but Vanessa’s figure was voluptuous while Carley was wide-shouldered, small-breasted, and angular. Carley’s hair was a glossy brown, manageable, no bother, but Vanessa had wavy black hair that bounced and tossed around her face in sensual curls as rounded as her body. Men always did a double take when Vanessa walked into a room.
    Vanessa was just naturally
nice
. Humorous, easygoing, and generous, in spite of a life that had more than its share of woe. The only child of two only children, Vanessa lost her father when she was in college, and during the past year her beloved mother had died of Parkinson’s disease. Fourteen years ago, she’d married Toby when he was in med school and in spite of her fertility goddess looks, hadn’t been able to get pregnant. Some women might be bitter, but not Vanessa, who loved life and people, who had a great, exuberant excess of energy and compassion. She was a natural giver. She sat on almost all the major nonprofit boards on the island: The Boys and Girls Club, A