But if Madeline pissed off Angie, Angie might nail her on breach of contract. Madeline might be forced by law to return the advance, most of which she’d already spent.

As Madeline saw it, she had two options. She could write the novel about Grace and Benton. Or she could default on her contract and return her advance money—and write another novel down the road, when she was ready.

The morning shows were tempting… but no.

She called Eddie again, to ask for her fifty thousand dollars back.

NANTUCKET

Thornton Bayle, the paving king of Nantucket, who was resurfacing the parking lot of the Nantucket Yacht Club, overheard Eddie Pancik on his cell phone. The Nantucket Yacht Club was right across the street from the office of Island Fog Realty, and pretty much everyone in town knew that when Eddie was having a conversation he didn’t want anyone else to hear, he headed across the street to the yacht-club parking lot.

What Thornton Bayle overheard, late in the afternoon of Memorial Day, went something like this: Madeline, yes, I understand your dilemma. I understand, Madeline! I told you June, and if not June then August. Madeline, if I could I would, but I just can’t right now. You have to be patient. I need you to hang in there. I need you to believe in me. There were two parties involved from the get-go… you knew there was risk. Yes, you did. Madeline, please, I need you to cut me some slack. I will make everything right, but I can’t do it today. You have to give me time, Madeline. Please, just give me time.

Well, he thought. That’s interesting.

JUNE

HOPE

She weathered the rumor about her screwing Brick by holding her head high and not saying one word on the topic. Allegra was back to walking with Brick between classes, making him late for everything, because they stopped in front of every water fountain to kiss.

Hope couldn’t watch them without wanting to barf.

Meanwhile, Allegra was still seeing Ian Coburn. She would tell Brick she was going to “stay home and cram for finals” and tell her parents that she was going to wait at the end of the driveway for Hollis to pick her up for a “study group,” but instead it would be Ian Coburn in his red Camaro, whisking her away to study the fine art of giving a blow job while watching the sun go down from a remote stretch of beach in Madequecham.

Hope should have just told Brick while she had the chance: Yes, Allegra is seeing Ian. Yes, Allegra is screwing Ian.

Indeed, Hope was certain the reason the rumor about Hope and Brick died so quickly was because Allegra put her foot down and stomped it out. She knew Hope was capable of telling everyone about her and Ian Coburn.

A less nourishing thought was that the rumor about Hope and Brick had fizzled because nobody in their right mind could imagine Brick wanting to have sex with Hope.

Hope resumed believing that Allegra would blow it; she couldn’t two-time all summer on this tiny island without getting caught. All Hope had to do was wait.

But waiting was tedious. The school year was drawing to a close, and the weather had warmed up. By the end of the first week of June, Hope had aced all her exams. There was nothing left to study for and no reason, even, to practice the flute. Her job at the rectory of St. Mary’s Church would start right after school ended, but that would be a quiet, antisocial snooze. She would help Mrs. Aguiar file, and she would do some research for Father Declan’s homilies. She would answer the phone and inform an endless string of visitors that Masses were held Saturday at 5:00 p.m. and Sunday at 8:30, 10:00, and 11:30, there was weekday Mass at 7:30 a.m., and there was a Spanish Mass at 7:00 p.m. on Sunday.

For now, when Hope came home from school, she would lie in the hammock strung tightly between two elms overlooking Polpis Harbor, and she would read. Allegra was already heading to the beach with her friends every afternoon to drink the beer that Bluto’s older sister bought for them and then pass out in the sand. Allegra never invited Hope to go, and Hope’s friends were home reading in their own hammocks or getting a jump on their college application essays. Hope comforted herself with the knowledge that next spring she, Hope, would be getting into the University of Virginia and Vanderbilt, and maybe even Duke, while Allegra would be waitlisted at North Podunk Junior College.

Still, it was lonely.

The only bright spot in Hope’s life was her talks with Benton about books. She had started with Goodbye, Columbus, although it had struck her as old fashioned and macho. She had liked Appointment in Samarra much better. Benton had seemed really tickled that she was following his suggestions, and when he saw her, he made a point to ask her where she was in each book and how she was liking it.

The conversations never lasted as long as Hope wanted because Hope’s mother always interrupted—calling Benton over to the henhouse or needing his help with the lawn mower. Some days, Grace made Benton elaborate lunches—seared-tuna Caesar salads or frisée aux lardons topped with poached eggs. And there was always a basket of crusty rolls and a small wooden cutting board with cheese, crackers, sausage, mustard, butter, and Marcona almonds.

Hope longed to be invited to join in these lunches, and she told her mother so.

“This is an important time for Benton and me to talk,” Grace said. “I’m sorry, darling. Would you like me to make you a ham sandwich?”

“A ham sandwich?” Hope asked.

“On a baguette with sweet butter and fig jam?” Grace said. “You can eat it in the hammock while you read.”

That did sound enticing, but not quite as enticing as sitting down at the table with her mother and Benton.