When she pulled into the parking lot at Cisco, she said, “Are you sure you want me tagging along? I can just drop you guys and come back and pick you up later.”

“You should definitely join us, Mrs. Llewellyn,” Parker said. “Our social cred will skyrocket in the presence of a beautiful woman.”

“Dude, chill,” Brick said. He smiled for the first time in who knew how long. “It’s my mom.”

“Should I just drop you?” Madeline asked Brick.

“No, Mom, come with us. It’s cool,” Brick said.

Madeline followed the boys down to the beach and set up three chairs. Cisco was home to the Nantucket surf scene—young guys in wet suits standing possessively next to their boards, and the gorgeous, underfed girls who loved them. Madeline also recognized the elder statesmen of surf—men like Sultan Nash, the housepainter, and Thornton Bayle, paving king, who had ditched work for waves. Then there was a slew of aspirants—from kids Brick’s age all the way down to fourth- and fifth-graders.

Brick charged into the water to bodysurf while Parker plopped into the chair next to Madeline.

“I think he’s doing a little better each day,” Parker said.

Madeline nearly laughed. “Do you?”

“He’s my bro,” Parker said. “And he got done wrong by that… well, excuse my French, Mrs. Llewellyn, but by that bitch, Pancik. That’s the risk you take when you date a beautiful girl. Allegra is the most popular girl in school—well, her and Hollis; I mean, I have no prayer of scoring even one date with someone of their caliber, but the good thing”—Parker held an arm out to indicate Brick, floating alone over the swells—“is that I do not own a time share in Heartbreak City.”

“You guys are all really young,” Madeline said. “I think maybe Brick and Allegra were too immature for an exclusive relationship.”

“It sounds like you’re letting Allegra off the hook, Mrs. Llewellyn,” Parker said. “And I hate to see you being a softie. Allegra had been cheating on him for a while. I saw her at the Cape Cod Mall with Ian back in April. They were at the Chanel counter. I mean, come on, is it not totally obvious what game Allegra was playing? She picked an older guy with money. Brick never stood a chance!” Parker let out a weary sigh. “I just hope our boy bounces back.”

Madeline reached over and squeezed Parker’s arm. “He’s lucky he has a good friend like you.”

“I love that kid,” Parker said. “He’s my bro.”

Madeline smiled, and then she brought her legal pad out of her book bag.

“Is that your new novel?” Parker asked. “My mom tells me it’s a real doozy.”

Madeline had received Grace’s voice mail—This had better not be true, Madeline. This had better not be true—but it hadn’t stopped Madeline’s progress on the novel or even slowed her down. Madeline was going to write B/G until Eddie paid her back her money!

As soon as Madeline got home from the beach, her phone started to buzz. Rachel McMann. Madeline was tempted to let it go to voice mail, but, to be honest, she was starved for female interaction. She ached for Grace every second of every day.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Rachel said.

Madeline sniffed. She already didn’t like the way this conversation was going.

“What?” she said.

“I heard?” Rachel said. “That Grace Pancik…?”

“Oh God,” Madeline said.

“Took Benton Coe, her gardener, as her date to the Sunset Soiree, and now Jean Burton thinks she’s pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” Madeline said. “Grace?” This pierced her. She had tried and tried and tried to have another baby. If Grace had gotten accidentally pregnant by Benton Coe…

But no, uh-uh, no way, not possible. This was gossip at its most insidious.

“Rachel,” Madeline said. “There is nothing going on between Grace and Benton Coe. Grace is happily, happily married to Eddie. So, please, Rachel…?”

“Yes?” Rachel said.

“Mind your own business,” Madeline said.

EDDIE

He walked into the office with one thing on his mind. He had tried calling Barbie at home, and he’d left two messages on her cell—no response.

Eloise was in but on the phone. Eddie collapsed into Barbie’s chair. She was wearing a red Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress and four-inch Manolos and the whopper pearl at her throat.

Eddie wondered if Glenn Daley had ever held that pearl between his teeth.

He said, “I’m selling numbers nine and eleven Eagle Wing Lane to Glenn Daley.”

“Yes,” she said, “I know.”

“You know?” Eddie said.

“Someone in his office sent over the paperwork,” Barbie said. On her desk were two large coffees from the Handlebar Café, Barbie’s new favorite place. She handed one to Eddie that was loaded with milk.

“Thank you,” Eddie said. Barbie never brought him coffee. So this was a peace offering, or a please-don’t-hate-me-for-sleeping-with-Glenn-Daley offering. Eddie was dying to address the issue, but he feared that to do so would be to embarrass them both. But he wanted her to know that he knew. He knew for sure.

“From now on,” he said, “I’m going to schedule the girls.”

Barbie shot a glance across the room at Eloise. She nodded. She was so damn insouciant that Eddie wanted to pick up her stapler and throw it across the office just to get a response.