“Take away my trust fund?” Kirby says. “I think we all know she can’t do that.” Kirby will be given control of her trust fund when she graduates from college or when she turns twenty-five, whichever comes first. This has been her sole motivation for staying enrolled at Simmons.

David sighs. “What’s the job?”

Kirby gives them a victorious smile. “I’ll be working as a chambermaid at the Shiretown Inn in Edgartown.”

“A chambermaid?” Kate says.

“You can’t even clean your own room,” David says.

“Now you’re exaggerating,” Kirby says. She decides to stick with eagerness and enthusiasm because she knows this will be more persuasive than anger and indignation. “Listen, I realize I’ve never held a job before. But that’s because I’ve spent all my spare time on my causes.”

“We’ve spent all our spare time on your causes,” Kate says with a barely concealed eye roll.

“Dad has,” Kirby says. “Remember when I was in high school? You didn’t even want me to march with Dr. King. You told me I was too young!”

“You were too young!” Kate says.

“What you meant was that I was too white,” Kirby says.

“Don’t put words in my mouth, young lady.”

“No one will ever march with Dr. King again,” Kirby says. “So that memory is officially priceless and you nearly kept me from having it. I was with Miss Carpenter the entire time, nothing bad was going to happen; it was a peaceful protest, that was the point! The antiwar protests this spring were different because the country is different now. Students like me are the enemy of the establishment—but you should both be happy I’m thinking for myself and not just falling in line!” Kirby pauses. She sees David softening a bit, but her mother remains rigid. “I want to get a job this summer, and after I graduate, I’m going to pursue a career. I want to be more than just a wife and mother. I don’t want to end up like…Blair.”

“Watch it,” Kate says. “Being a mother is a blessing.”

“But you have to admit—” Kirby stops herself before she shares an ungenerous opinion about her older sister. Blair and Kirby have long been described as the overachiever and the underachiever, respectively. (Okay, no one has ever said that out loud, but Kirby knows people think it.) Blair scored straight As all through high school and went to Wellesley College, where she made the dean’s list every single term. She won the English department’s award for outstanding student, and her thesis about Edith Wharton received some sort of special distinction from a panel made up of professors from all Seven Sister schools. Blair had gotten a job teaching the top-tier senior girls at the Winsor School, a position that opened up approximately once every fifty years. From there it would have been a short hop to a graduate degree and becoming a professor. But what had Blair done? Married Angus, quit the job, and gotten pregnant.

“Admit what?” Kate asks.

That Blair’s a disappointment, Kirby thinks. But that’s not true. The person who’s a disappointment is Kirby herself.

Kirby is tempted to come clean with her parents, to tell them she has just endured the worst three months of her life, both physically and emotionally. She needs to wipe away the memory of the protests, the arrests, her love affair with Officer Scott Turbo, the trip to Lake Winnipesaukee. She had been dealt a losing hand of fear, anxiety, heartbreak, and shame.

She needs a fresh start.

She appeals to David, who has always been more compassionate than her mother. “I’m bombing in my classes at Simmons because they’re boring. I don’t want to study library science and I don’t want to teach nursery school.”

“You want to clean hotel rooms?” he asks.

“I want to work,” Kirby says. “And that was the job I happened to nail down.” Here, she casts her eyes to the floor because she’s not being 100 percent truthful.

“You don’t know anyone on Martha’s Vineyard,” Kate says. “We’re Nantucket people. You, me, Nonny, Nonny’s mother, Nonny’s grandmother. You’re a fifth-generation Nantucketer, Katharine.”

“It’s that kind of us-and-them attitude that’s destroying our country,” Kirby says. When David laughs, Kirby realizes she’s going to get her way. “Spending the summer somewhere else will be educational. Do you remember my friend Rajani from school? Her parents have a house in Oak Bluffs and they said I can stay with them.”

“Stay with Rajani’s family all summer?” David says. “That sounds excessive.” He turns to Kate. “Doesn’t it? Rajani’s family shouldn’t have to shelter and feed our daughter.”

“Correct,” Kate says. “She should come to Nantucket, where she belongs.”

“There’s also a house a few blocks from Rajani’s that I found in the classifieds. Six bedrooms to let, college girls preferred. A hundred and fifty dollars for the summer.”

“That makes more sense,” David says. “We can pay the rent, but your day-to-day living expenses will be up to you.”

“Oh, thank you!” Kirby says.

Kate throws up her hands.

Kirby and her best friend from Simmons, Rajani Patel, drive to Woods Hole in Rajani’s maroon MG with the top down. Kirby secured a room in the house on Narragansett Avenue for the summer. She gave her parents the phone number and the name of the proprietress, Miss Alice O’Rourke.

I suppose she’s Irish Catholic, David had remarked. Let’s hope she runs a tight ship.

When Rajani and Kirby drive the MG off the ferry into Oak Bluffs, Kirby brings her palms together in front of her heart in a gesture of gratitude. She is starting over on her own somewhere completely new.

Well, okay, maybe not completely new. She’s still on an island off the coast of Cape Cod; as the crow flies, she’s only eleven miles away from Nantucket. She could have gone to inner-city Philadelphia to work with disadvantaged youth. She could be driving around rural Alabama, registering people to vote. So this is just a first step, but it will be good for her.

Rajani is excited to play tour guide. “There’s Ocean Park,” she says about a large expanse of green lawn with a white gazebo at its navel. “And to the left are the Flying Horses Carousel and the Strand movie theater.”