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little to say for several minutes, while we concentrated on eating. Finally she touched her napkin to her lips. “A notable meal, my dear chef, even by chez Jackson standards. I take back all the nasty stuff I said about you earlier.”
    â€œMadam is too kind.”
    â€œI like your new stove.”
    â€œit’s not as pretty as the fireplace, but it does a better job of heating. Why, I’ll bet that if you took off all of your clothes, you’d still be warm as toast.”
    â€œI dare say, but I plan on finishing this meal before testing the rest of your domestic offerings.”
    â€œWe could take turns eating the remains of this repast off various parts of each other’s body.”
    â€œI don’t believe I’ve ever heard you mention this particular urge before.”
    â€œI’ve been waiting for just the right moment to tell you.”
    She gestured with her fork. “Eat, Jefferson. You’re the guy who doesn’t even like to go on beach picnics because you’re afraid you’ll get sand in your food. You shouldn’t be thinking about eating off a body that’s been in an emergency ward all day.”
    â€œRomance is dead, just like people say.”
    Afterward we sat in front of the new stove and had Brie, French bread recently from my oven, coffee and cognac.
    â€œSo Phyllis Manwaring’s little girl is swinging with somebody, eh? I always imagined Phyllis had some Yale lawyer and a big formal marriage in mind for Heather. I wonder if Heather’s guy meets the standards.”
    Zee gave me a wry smile. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t make any difference because as far as I know, Phyllis doesn’t know anything about it. Heather is trying to make it on her own. She doesn’t confide in Mom and Dad.”
    â€œI thought you girls told your mothers everything.”
    â€œSure you did. I wonder what Vincent will think of the beau, if he ever meets him. I mean, Vince Manwaring’sso straitlaced that he’s still got his tie on when he comes down to the island for the weekend. And ever since he’s decided that Connecticut needs him as a senator, he’s even worse than before. Having a daughter sleeping with who-knows-who can’t be a political asset.”
    â€œMaybe Heather is picking out the man of her parents’ dreams.”
    â€œWho knows? Maybe she’s slumming.”
    â€œMaybe he’s a caveman.”
    â€œSome women like the caveman type.”
    â€œNow, now, let’s not talk about your feelings for me. Let’s just gossip about other people. What else is hanging on the hospital grapevine?”
    â€œWell, Cotton Williams seems to have a new woman.”
    â€œWhere’s the news in that?”
    Cotton Williams, better known as Shrink, was a psychiatrist who had landed on the island several years before. He was then newly shed of a wife and needed a change of scene from New York. He had settled into the Vineyard lifestyle quite nicely and now had a good practice, since islanders are just as prone to psychological malaise as anyone else. He had not remarried, for the very good reason that a long string of attractive women had found him irresistible for varying lengths of time.
    â€œIf my rumors bore you, you can give me yours.”
    I looked at my nails. “Sorry, I never gossip.”
    â€œIn that case, I’m going home.”
    I hooked an arm around her shoulders and slid her closer to me. “Wait a minute, wait a minute, I’m thinking, I’m thinking! Let’s see. Did you hear that Jeanette Norton wants Carl to sell his land to a developer instead of to the Commission?”
    She snuggled against me. “Who’s Jeanette Norton? I’ve heard of Helene Norton. She’s the daughter Carl is staying with on the Cape, isn’t she? Who’s Jeanette?”
    â€œJeanette is Carl’s ex. Helene’s mom. When she left, she didn’t get