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With Adam wrapped across her chest, Anna followed Smith into the light of the late morning. It was mid-March and nearly sixty degrees, the air balmy as it shifted through the trees. In just a few weeks, the first shoots of green would burst from the soil.
“As you can see,” Smith said, extending his arms, “it’s impossible to stay indoors today.”
Anna grinned from ear to ear. “What’s the plan?”
It turned out that Smith didn’t have a plan. He wanted to make up the day “by ear.” Anna, whose days had fallen into a rhythm of Adam’s schedule, relished the idea and promised herself to soak up every minute of spontaneity.
First up was coffee and croissants at the Nantucket Historic Café. They sat on the front patio and watched the sailboats shift across the sloshing water. Anna drank her coffee carefully as Adam slept on her chest, and Smith gave scraps of croissant to Luka. A married couple in their fifties approached, gushing about what a “beautiful family” they were.
“Your baby looks brand new,” the woman said.
“Two months,” Smith said proudly.
Anna’s heart lifted. She realized this probably wasn’t the first time people had seen the three of them (plus Luka) and considered them a family. Was this the kind of nourishing feeling she would have enjoyed with Dean? It was different, she decided.
After croissants and coffee, Smith suggested he take a turn with Adam. Anna helped him wrap the carrier over his shoulders and situate Adam against his chest. Smith was a natural, falling into a loose stride that didn’t shake the baby too much. Luka shuffled along beside him. Anna’s heart swelled.
They wandered through the Historic District, past restaurants that still hadn’t opened for the tourism season, tourist shops that sold seashells and scarves, and the wedding dress shop where Julia had selected her gown for next month. Anna described the cut and color of the dress as best as she could, calling it a “modern-day take on Stevie Nicks, but a classier version.”
Smith was intrigued. “You have a way with descriptions,” he told Anna. “I noticed that the first time I googled your writing.”
Anna’s cheeks burned. As they hovered outside the wedding dress shop, she imagined herself entering in a year or two, a different engagement ring on her finger, toddler Adam at home with his stand-in father, Smith. Was it too much to hope for?
“What do you say?” Anna asked, her throat thick with fear. “Do you want to go to the wedding with me?”
Smith turned to look her straight in the eye. “I’d love to.”
After they looped through the Historic District again, they returned to The Copperfield House to grab Anna’s car. They secured Adam in his car seat, slipped into the front, and whizzed off to the opposite end of the island. Without a vehicle of his own, Smith had only seen areas of Nantucket in The Copperfield House’s immediate vicinity, but with a car, he dove into the nooks and crannies, his eyes wide as he swallowed every view.
“Look at that,” he whispered when Anna stopped the engine at a lookout.
The beach beyond was deserted, just a wide stretch of sand dunes that glinted beneath the March sunlight and surged against a dangerous, dark ocean.
“Growing up in the Midwest means I’m still not so sure about that water,” Anna admitted. “I’m a strong swimmer, sure. But there’s something about the ocean.”
“Something we can’t understand,” Smith agreed.
As they watched the waves rush across the sands, a squawking flock of seagulls surged overhead. In the back seat of the car, Adam made a noise in his throat.
“It sounds like he’s trying to answer them,” Anna said with a laugh. “What are they saying, buddy?”
“They’re saying they want our picnic,” Smith joked, reaching for his backpack between his legs.
Smith unfurled what he’d packed: turkey and cheddar sandwiches with lettuce and tomato, pretzels, grapes, and dark chocolate. Anna took a small bite of her sandwich and closed her eyes, marveling at how wonderful it felt to be cared for. That was something Smith had never been allowed to feel as a child. Oh, she wished she could take that pain from his heart.
“I feel like you should know something,” Smith said, his eyes still on the ocean.
Anna swirled with potentialities. Maybe Smith was planning to leave. Maybe Smith had met someone else—an islander whose stomach was flat. An islander who was uncomplicated.
Instead, he lent her the surprise of the year.
“I’m falling in love with you.”
Anna’s eyes filled with tears. The world around her blurred, the sand morphing into the sky, the ocean frothing into greens and blues. When Dean died, she didn’t think anyone would ever love her again. Yet here she was, nearly a year later, with an aching heart and a fresh story.
Before Anna could answer, Smith went on. Apparently, he’d thought this through.
“You’ve been through a lot. You lost your fiancé, and then you had his baby. I want you to know I recognize that. And I don’t want to push you into anything too quickly.” Smith wrapped up his sandwich, clearly uninterested in food. “But I also want you to know I’m a patient person. I’ve been through enough to know that this sort of connection isn’t common.”
