“Ew,” Link says. “No.”

“You’re young,” Mallory says. “And the worst thing about being young is not being able to appreciate that you’re young because you aren’t old enough to know any better.”

“Mom,” Link says. “I’m going to marry Nicole. Mark my words. We are getting married as soon as we graduate from college.”

“That’s a solid plan,” Mallory says because she realizes these are the words he needs to hear right now. “But don’t wish your life away. What if you start by enjoying every second of your time with Nicole between now and the day she leaves? Be present. Don’t worry about the what-ifs.”

Link’s phone starts to buzz. It’s Nicole; she must be finished with her meeting. Link jumps to his feet.

“Okay, Mom, thanks.” He bends down to kiss Mallory, then answers the phone.

“Come on over,” he says. “My mom made dinner. Greek chicken. She said she thinks us getting married after college is a solid plan.”

At the end of July, Mallory realizes she’s going to have the same problem that she had during the summer of baseball: Link doesn’t want to go to Seattle. Not for the month, not even for a ten-day visit, which is what he’s done the past two years. He won’t go to Washington, DC, to see Coop; he won’t go anywhere. He wants to stay on Nantucket and work at Millie’s general store alongside Nicole until she leaves for Italy.

Mallory isn’t sure what to do about Jake. She can’t cancel his visit. If her cancer treatment taught her anything, it’s that life is too short.

Link might be old enough for Mallory to simply say, Listen, I have a friend coming, a male friend, and I need privacy for the weekend. Can you hang out at Nicole’s house, maybe help get her packed?

But ugh. Ew. No.

Then Mallory thinks of Tuckernuck. She and Jake could sail over like they did back in whatever year and use Dr. Major’s house for the weekend. It will be tricky with the sun—there isn’t a single shade tree on all of Tuckernuck—but Mallory will be careful. She’ll be so careful, if only…please!

She sends Dr. Major an exploratory e-mail. He retired five years ago but Mallory sees him around the island—at the Stop and Shop, in line at the bank and post office—so this won’t come completely out of the blue.

Huge favor to ask…is there any way…Labor Day weekend…such joyful memories of the last time and after my parents’ death and my recent health scare…please let me know when you can.

The good news is Mallory doesn’t have to wait long for a response. The bad news is that Dr. Major tells Mallory that they sold the house the year before. It was just too expensive to keep up and no one ever used it.

Mallory’s spirits flag. She could always suggest that Jake stay on the Greta. They can take long sails during the day and Mallory can run into town for burgers on Friday night, lobsters on Saturday night, Chinese food on Sunday night. They can stream Same Time, Next Year on her laptop. It might be fun?

It won’t be fun. It’ll feel like they’re on the lam. It’ll feel shady and cheap and claustrophobic and second rate.

Mallory could throw money at the problem. She could get a room at an inn—no, an inn would be too small. A hotel. The Nantucket Hotel, the White Elephant, Cliffside. She’ll put the room in her name and Jake can slip in and out. But a hotel means staff—front desk, bellhops, chambermaids—and other guests. It’s too risky.

Could she rent a house, someone else’s house? That’s weird and seems extreme, but is it?

Nantucket is an island with hundreds, maybe even thousands, of homes for rent, and yet Mallory can’t find a home on the water available over Labor Day weekend except for a seven-bedroom out in Wauwinet that rents for twenty-five thousand dollars a week. Although, make no mistake, the house is the highest quality real estate porn imaginable, with jaw-dropping views across Polpis Harbor, a pool, a hot tub, a pool house with a wet bar and an exercise room, a tennis court, an outdoor kitchen and entertaining space, and a home theater.

The house is named Desdemona, which Mallory finds intriguing. Desdemona is the tragic heroine in Othello; Othello kills her for adultery that she didn’t commit. It seems like an odd name for a summer mansion, and yet it’s the perfect name for a house Mallory would rent so that her son doesn’t meet her married lover.

Twenty-five thousand dollars. Before Kitty and Senior died, this wouldn’t even be an option. Now Mallory has the money—but can she in good conscience spend it on one weekend for a house that is so big, she and Jake won’t even set foot in half the rooms?

Definitely not. She can’t believe she’s even considering it. She’ll have him stay on the boat. They’ll sail to Chatham on Saturday, Cuttyhunk on Sunday. If it rains…well, she’s not sure what they’ll do if it rains. The Greta is miserable in the rain. It had better not rain.

Mallory revisits the idea of renting Desdemona. Other people take vacations; they go to the isle of Capri, they go on safari. Those trips must cost twenty-five thousand dollars, or nearly. Fray took Link and Anna and the baby and the baby’s nanny to the Four Seasons in Maui for ten days this past Christmas. That must have cost twenty-five grand. Of course, Fray is in a different category of wealthy from Mallory, but what does money even mean if you can’t spend it on the things that make you happy?

Mallory and Jake don’t need seven bedrooms or a tennis court; they don’t need to watch Same Time, Next Year in a home theater. But they do need to be together in a safe, private environment and if it takes twenty-five thousand dollars to make sure this happens, then Mallory will do it.

What does Doris say in Same Time, Next Year?

I knew…that no matter what the price, I was willing to pay it.

Mallory picks up her phone and calls Grey Lady Real Estate.

“Good afternoon, this is Grey Lady, Jeremiah speaking, may I help you?”

Mallory hesitates. Jeremiah? “Hello,” she says, praying this isn’t who she thinks it is. “My name is Mallory Bless—”

“Oh, hey, Miss Blessing, it’s Jeremiah Freehold.”

Mallory would like to hang up. “Jeremiah, hey there. This is a surprise. Are you—”

“A licensed broker? Yes, I am, have been for years,” he says.

“That’s wonderful,” Mallory says. She knew that Jeremiah had supervised a historically sensitive renovation of his parents’ home on Orange Street and she maybe knew that he’d then gone into real estate, but she is nonetheless surprised—and dismayed—to have Jeremiah on the phone right now. Even all these years later, she still feels mortified about that ride out to Gibbs Pond.

She loves living on an island and being part of a small community, and she also hates it.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Jeremiah asks.

What should she say? She can’t ask about Desdemona. It’s twenty-five thousand dollars a week and she’s a schoolteacher. And what possible excuse would she give for renting it? A family reunion? She has exactly one family member left aside from her child and that’s Cooper. She should never have called. Why did she call? How is she going to get off the phone with Jeremiah?