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Of all the things Julia had imagined over the years that might have come between her mother and Zoe, this wasn’t one she had ever considered. She was struggling to absorb it. “Did anything
happen
?” she whispered, not daring to ask it any louder, it was such a bizarre thought.

Zoe let out a breath. Looking out the window into the fog, she nodded.

Julia was stunned. Zoe and her father. She was
stunned
. “And Mom found out.”

Eyes distant, Zoe chewed on her lower lip. When she spoke, her tone was dry. “Not from me, that’s for sure. I knew it would be the final nail in the coffin.”

“
Dad
told her?”

Zoe looked at her now. “Apparently he couldn’t live with the guilt. He’s a very sweet man.”

“Then you don’t hate him?”

“Because he chose Janet over me? How could I hate him? Janet is a remarkable woman. She was remarkable even back then. And look at the life he had with her. He had the three of you, had the house, had a social life that he might have attributed to Janet, but that was part of him, too. What would he have had with me? I live on an
island,
for God’s sake.”

“Oh, Zoe. I’m so sorry.”

“No, Julia. I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have known better than to let anything happen.”

“Don’t absolve
him
of all responsibility,” Julia warned. She had her own current gripes with her father, and was therefore feeling a tad less than sympathetic toward the man—that, on top of her feelings for Monte, which were so closely, disturbingly related.

“Oh, I don’t. But it takes two to tango. If I’d said no, nothing would have happened, and if nothing had happened, you all would have continued coming up here to visit, I’d have family, and Janet would be talking with you now.”

Julia felt a burst of anger. “Well, how
stupid
is it of her to be holding a grudge all this time? She got the man. She won. You lost. Doesn’t she see that?”

“I’m sure she does,” Zoe said reasonably. “That’s probably why she let you kids keep on coming to visit. But only you kids. Do you remember that?”

Julia nodded. “We took a train to Portland, and you met us there. I was in charge of making sure my brothers behaved. My parents didn’t come, but it seemed a perfectly natural thing, with us old enough to travel alone. I assumed they used the time to be together.”

“They probably did.”

“With an ulterior motive,” Julia charged.

“Can you blame your mother?” Zoe asked. “Think about it. She’s behaving just like women with straying husbands behave all the time. The affair can end, and be well and truly done. The husband can be attentive and adoring for years, but let him be unexpectedly late coming home from work, and the wife’s thoughts shoot off in one direction, and one direction only. Trust can be rebuilt. But it’s like a heart. Once there’s been an attack, there’s always a vulnerability.”

Julia knew that truth all too well. She had been feeling vulnerable with Monte for a very long time.

“Mom?” Molly asked from the door of the barn.

And right there was the major reason Julia stayed with him. Feeling not the slightest inkling of regret, she looked at her daughter. Molly had grown up in a household with two parents who loved her, just as Julia had.

Now, the girl tapped the Rolex on her wrist, her high school graduation gift from those two parents who loved her. “The ferry?”

Fog was hovering still when the ten-thirty ferry motored out of the harbor and picked up speed. It was only then that Julia realized how sheltered the harbor was from the waves in comparison with the open sea. The ferry was heavy and wide. It had an enclosed area with seats, plus benches out front on the bow and, above the wheelhouse, a small upper deck. Carrying two cars in its stern from earlier stops, it plowed through the water with remarkable steadiness.

That steadiness notwithstanding, Julia would have rather been anywhere else. Where to sit? Outside would mean feeling the fog and the full brunt of memory. Inside would mean feeling confined, trapped in a space from which she might not be able to escape in the event of a crash. She had survived the other night precisely because she had been at the front of the boat and been thrown out of harm’s way.

Choosing the lesser of the evils, she opted for outside and in the bow. There were plenty of free seats on the benches for Molly and her, and enough other people around to make this ride different from the last one she’d taken. She wore another Zoe outfit, this time denim capris, a tank top, and sandals. More notably, she carried a handsome leather shoulder bag made on the island by one of Zoe’s friends. Zoe had given it to her as a gift.

So she was feeling well dressed and put-together.

But she couldn’t relax. If there had been no fog, she would have been able to see for herself that the channel was clear of other boats. Granted, she didn’t hear one, the way she had heard
The Beast.
But then, this ferry was larger and louder, so she might not hear another boat at all. She trusted that whoever was at the helm had radar. Of course, the
Amelia Celeste
had had it too, and it hadn’t helped.

Eyes alert, Julia scrutinized the fog. She had no idea what she would do if she actually saw another boat headed their way, had no idea how she personally would be able to avert a collision. But she didn’t take her eyes from the cottony denseness, moved them slowly to the right, then ahead, then to the left. She saw shadows, but they went nowhere. She saw the occasional flash of color, likely a channel marker, and all the while her thoughts were tugging her back to the boat ride the week before. Her heart was hammering by the time they reached the area where she calculated the accident had been.

She heard a noise, but it was only the ferry clearing its throat. She saw—or imagined she saw—a Coast Guard boat with divers. It was a ghostlike presence, perhaps conjured up by her imagination, since she knew that divers would still be at work trying to recover whatever was still recoverable on the ocean floor, before it was all swept away and scattered by the tide or by scavenging creatures of the deep.

“Mom?” Molly asked, her voice distant. “Are you okay?”

Julia brought herself back, forced herself to breathe, and took Molly’s hand. “I’ll be fine.”

And she was. Another five minutes, and the fog began to thin. Another five, and Rockland emerged crystal clear beyond what little was left of the mist. Lit by the sun, the harbor glittered, a gift to Julia if ever there was one. The ferry docked stern first, dropped her gates, and extended her ramp to let off the two cars. Passengers followed.

Joyful to be alive, Julia was in high spirits. Molly was every bit as lighthearted, though Julia didn’t know whether her daughter’s mood was from life, Julia’s presence, or the prospect of shopping. Molly loved to shop, so shop they did. They explored every store in Rockland, then fetched the car from the pier and drove north to Camden for more.

Molly was in her glory, picking one article of clothing after another from shelves and racks, and all for Julia, who couldn’t help but be amused. For the very first time, the tables were turned. Just as Julia had taken Molly on innumerable shopping trips for school clothes, camp clothes, college clothes, so now outfitting Julia was Molly’s mission.

“You need these, Mom,” she said, holding up a pair of embroidered jeans, “or—wait, wait—what do you think of
these
?”

“I think they’re perfect for you at your age,” Julia replied with a smile, much as Molly had often done in reverse, “but a little too cute for me. I want plain, ordinary jeans. Does this store have plain, ordinary jeans?”

It certainly did, and Julia indulged. She bought plain, ordinary jeans. She bought plain, ordinary T-shirts. At another shop, she bought shorts and slacks, shirts, and a quilted blazer not unlike the one she had lost. At yet another, she bought a fleece robe, and two doors down splurged on a nightgown and nice underthings, because she
liked
nice underthings, and because she was so impressed to find a store carrying them that she wanted to support it,
and
because Molly insisted.

“You deserve it, Mom,” she said, holding out her hand for the credit card so that she could give it to the salesclerk, playing the mommy in this, too. “After what you’ve been through? Dad owes you.”

Julia focused on the after-what-she’d-been-through part. She kept that in mind at the next store, when she bought not only sneakers and sandals with a gently wedged heel, but Birkenstocks, which she had never owned in her life. The ones she chose were of mocha nubuck, with three straps crossing her foot. She stood before the mirror, turning every which way, playing Molly here, too, wanting to be convinced.

“People on the island wear them all the time,” she reasoned aloud. “Zoe has half a dozen pairs.”

“Get them,” Molly said. “I think you should get
two
pairs. See those other ones, the ones with the single wide strap across the top of the foot? Get them in
red
.” Catching her breath, she pointed at yet another pair. “No, get
those
in red, the ones with the flowers. With rolled-up jeans, they’d be totally cool. Actually, I want a pair, too—but you first. I think you should get three—the mocha ones, the ones with red flowers, and the ones with the wide strap in white.”

“I don’t need three, Molly.”

“Forget need, think
want,
” Molly said, just as Julia had said little more than four weeks before, when Molly learned she had made dean’s list for the spring semester, and they had splurged with a spa weekend. There had been absolutely no practical merit to some of the treatments they’d had, any one of which was more expensive than the Birks, but each treatment was pleasurable. So now, Molly said, “These are fun. After the accident, you deserve fun. Dad owes you. And I
love
the red ones. You have to get those.”

The drugstore was a whole other adventure. Julia bought nail polish remover, cold cream, and moisturizer. She bought shampoo, conditioner, and a hairbrush. She bought foundation, blusher, and eye shadow. The brands weren’t the ones she knew in New York, and, as far as the makeup went, she chose those with the least amount of coverage. Heavy makeup didn’t fit with Big Sawyer. She guessed that much of the time she wouldn’t wear any makeup at all. But old habits died hard. She had felt naked at the funerals, then again going out to dinner last night at the Grill. It didn’t matter that most other women on the island wore no makeup at all. She wasn’t most other women. She was Julia.

So she added several bars of creamy soap to use in place of the no-nonsense soap Zoe kept at the house. She added a bottle of coral nail polish. She added covered elastic bands for her hair, and several tortoiseshell clasps. She added a pair of sunglasses, then, when Molly said that the rectangular ones were fine but that the oval ones were
totally
adorable, added those, too.

By the time she reached the cash register, her basket was overflowing, and she was embarrassed. “Look at this stuff,” she said in dismay. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here. Do I really need all this?”

“Every bit,” Molly said, adding three last-minute bottles. “Bath gel, body lotion, and cologne. The scent is Lily of the Valley. It fits you.” Grinning at the girl waiting to ring up the sale, she said, “We’re all set,” and began unloading the basket. To Julia, she whispered, “You’re replacing what you had in your bags. Didn’t you say insurance was covering this? So if Dad’s getting the money anyway, why shouldn’t you spend it?
He’ll
spend it, if you don’t. I’d rather you get the benefit than someone else.”

Julia’s heart tripped, old suspicions turning over inside. “What does that mean?”

Molly scowled. Seeming frustrated, she finally said, “He’ll spend it on ties. I mean, he has
the
largest collection of ties. My high school friends used to joke about those ties. Like, the girls wanted to wear them as belts with jeans. Each one probably costs more than any belt I’ve ever owned.”

Turning away to afford them privacy, she scolded gently, “Your father works hard. He doesn’t smoke, doesn’t drink, doesn’t gamble. If ties are his only indulgence, who are we to begrudge him that?”

“All I’m saying,” Molly argued, but quietly as well, “is that you have a right to buy things too.”

“Have I ever denied myself?”

“Yes. You’re careful. I watch. You splurge more on me than you ever do on yourself.” She slid an arm around Julia’s waist, gave her a hug, and grinned. “That’s why this is such fun. We’re splurging on
you
for a change.”

Julia smiled at the clerk and handed over her credit card.

“Besides,” Molly added, “whatever of this stuff you don’t use, Aunt Zoe will.”

“Lily of the Valley toilet spray?” Julia asked doubtfully. “It’ll attract bugs.”

“It’ll attract
men.
I’ve never understood why she isn’t with someone. She’s adorable. Men should be crawling all over her.”

Julia felt a twinge. Apparently one man had done just that years before. George, the romantic hero—the philanderer—the unfaithful husband. Trying to reconcile that with the vision she had always held, Julia was shaken. She had assumed her parents’ marriage to be inviolate. Learning that it wasn’t would take some getting used to.