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“She’s busy with her boyfriend,” Maxine said, her eyes darkening for the briefest of moments. If Rose wasn’t mistaken, she was pretty sure her daughter wanted a boyfriend, and that she yearned to belong to someone, as many teenagers did. Rose wanted to tell her daughter that she had all the time in the world to date, although she knew that’s not how it felt when you were sixteen.

What were you up to in high school, Rose Calder?

“Dad wants to take us for dinner Friday,” Maxine said then.

“Oh! Right. Our classic start-of-the-year celebration,” Rose said.

“He’s going to book a table at Clancy’s,” Maxine said. “Good for you?”

“Great for me,” Rose affirmed.

Rose and Mike had divorced when Maxine was three years old, which meant they’d had to grapple with Maxine’s school career from a distance. Although they’d had a few tiffs over the years, especially during that heinous bullying scandal when Maxine was nine, they’d largely gotten along. One of their traditions was having a start-of-the-year dinner at a slightly fancy place, which Mike always paid for. Rose knew Maxine always looked forward to it, if only because it let her briefly experience what it meant to be in a “normal family.” Whatever “normal” meant.

“Oh, I saw that guy again this morning,” Maxine said now, pressing her hand against the kitchen door.

Rose’s stomach tightened. “What guy?”

“That weird guy who came in here yesterday? The guy who ordered a cookie but didn’t eat it?” Maxine said, raising her eyebrows.

Rose ached with fear. She had to fight every instinct within her not to yell at her daughter and tell her to stay away from that creep.

“Where did you see him?” she asked.

“Um, he was sitting at that burger place down the road when I walked here.” Maxine shrugged. “He was typing like crazy on his computer. You said he’s a journalist?”

Rose closed her eyes and willed herself to be normal. “Yeah,” she said finally. “He’s a weird guy. I hope he doesn’t come back.”

“I don’t know why he would. He doesn’t seem to like cookies,” Maxine offered as she returned to the kitchen to fetch something else.

Over the three days that passed between that afternoon and their dinner with Mike, Rose couldn’t shake her fears. Always, she glanced over her shoulder when she left the grocery store, the bakery, or her house, half sure she’d see Harry Orlett standing there, waiting for her. Not seeing him once that week frightened her all the more. She knew he was still on the island, waiting for her call. She could feel it.

At five o’clock that Friday, Rose closed the bakery and went home to change for their dinner with Mike. Maxine was already there, dressed in a cute white dress, a little too much makeup on her cheeks and around her eyes. Rose knew Mike would hate the makeup, and he’d ask why she was letting their daughter grow up so quickly. What could she tell him? Teenage girls wanted to grow up, at least until they didn’t anymore.

It was warmer than it had been all week, so Rose opted for a navy dress and a pair of strappy sandals. Together, she and Maxine walked from their quaint two-bedroom house to the beachside Clancy’s, a rather new four-star restaurant that, Rose was pretty sure, featured a top chef Mike was friendly with. Mike made it his business to know the island’s upper echelon of movers and shakers. Although this had ultimately infuriated Rose when they’d been together—because she’d felt all his relationships were contractual—she respected it now, especially since it secured divine tables for Maxine and Rose with perfect views and delectable bites.

Mike was only a little bit older than Rose, forty-four, with dark blond hair and shoulders he worked out at the local gym three times a week. He’d been away on business for much of August, which had meant that Rose had had Maxine for most of the month. Now that he was back, they would return to a fifty-fifty split (or more like Rose’s sixty to Mike’s forty). Rose knew that when it came to ex-husbands and co-parenting, he was better than most.

Outside the restaurant, he hugged Maxine first and then Rose. Rose hated that he smelled the same as he always had, that sandalwood cologne that made her weak at the knees. She wasn’t in love with him anymore and hadn’t been for years. But she remembered what it had been like to be in love with him, and that was sometimes painful.

She’d really loved being in love, as most everyone did.

At the table, Mike urged Maxine to tell him everything about her first week of junior year. Maxine launched into an explanation of her classes, the gossip buzzing through Nantucket High this year, and her newfound friendship with Minnie, who hailed from Miami.

“Minnie from Miami!” Mike sang, laughing. “She sounds fun.”

“She saved me,” Maxine said. “I mean, after Sarah moved, I thought I’d spend the whole year alone.”

Sarah had been Maxine’s best friend in sophomore year. Before that, her best friend had been a girl named Audrey, who’d moved back to Boston. Maxine had had bad luck.

“I wanted to tell you,” Mike said when Maxine took a breath, “your room is completely redecorated. The new bed’s in there. And that painting you wanted…”

Maxine shrieked, then threw her arms around her father. Rose’s stomach twisted. Although she was terribly pleased that Mike’s career was going well, and she was very happy for him that he’d gotten that big house in ’Sconset, and she was thrilled that he’d set and achieved so many of his goals, she couldn’t help but compare her life to his. Mike was moving up in the world. Rose ran her bakery, helped Maxine with homework, and waited for something to happen.

Suddenly, Maxine spotted a friend down the beach. “I’m going to say hi,” she said. “But I’ll be back before the food gets here.”

“Take your time, honey,” Mike said, just as Rose said, “Hurry back!”

As Maxine scampered down the sand to say hello to who looked like a male friend, Mike and Rose looked at one another and offered nervous smiles. Rose couldn’t remember the last time she’d been alone with him.