“American Seasons?” Eddie says. It’s a romantic restaurant and the food is dynamite, but… it’s not cheap.

“Yes,” Grace says, leaving no further room for discussion.

It’s only that night as Eddie is trying to fall asleep instead of obsessing about money ($260 for a haircut and color, Thanksgiving dinner at American Seasons, which will necessarily include champagne and nice wine, and Hope’s second-semester bill at Bucknell), the Christys, the Winter Street Inn, the ways his life would be easier if he could manage to sell the Wauwinet house to the Christys and the inn to someone else, that Eddie wonders about Grace’s new exercise routine and her newly colored hair and, most puzzlingly, her easy acceptance of the news that neither twin will be home for Thanksgiving, historically the most sacred of Pancik family holidays.

It’s almost like she doesn’t care, he thinks. Like her mind is somewhere else.

On Thanksgiving morning Grace announces that she’s going to walk to Children’s Beach to watch the Turkey Plunge. The Turkey Plunge is where hundreds of crazy people race into the water to benefit the public library, known as the Nantucket Atheneum. Grace and Eddie have never attended the Turkey Plunge, because when they lived in Wauwinet, it was simply too far out of the way; it started early and the girls wanted to sleep in. Grace always used to cook an elaborate meal—not just turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes, but also a crab cake appetizer, caramelized Brussels sprouts, Parker House rolls from scratch, and, instead of pie, a gingerbread and poached pear trifle, served in her grandmother Harper’s etched-crystal trifle dish. Madeline, Trevor, and Brick Llewellyn used to join them, as well as Barbie, back when Barbie was single. Eddie carved the turkey and broke out his best vintages of zinfandel, which is the only wine that pairs acceptably with turkey, in his opinion. Between dinner and dessert, Eddie and Trevor used to smoke Cuban cigars out in Grace’s garden.

Eddie’s heart aches for his old life.

Now that they live in town, they can stroll over to Children’s Beach in a matter of minutes, so why wouldn’t they go? It makes perfect sense, Eddie tells himself.

At the plunge he sees people he knows, of course. There are land mines—Eloise Coffin is present with her doltish husband, Clarence, and Eddie steers clear of them, pulling Grace along by the hand. He isn’t sure how Grace managed in the aftermath of his indictment. How did she survive both the news of her affair with Benton Coe and a husband convicted of running a prostitution ring? How did she hold her head up?

Eddie sees Addison and Phoebe Wheeler talking to Chief Kapenash. The chief waves, and Eddie thinks about joining them for a chat, even though he doesn’t much care for Addison.

Grace says, “We can just stand here and be observers, Eddie. This isn’t a networking thing.”

“Oh, I know,” Eddie says. He lets Grace lead him over to a tree where they have a good view of people lining up, preparing to charge the water. Eddie sees Rachel McMann dressed in a black tank suit and a bathing cap decorated to look like a Pilgrim hat. Of course. He sees Blond Sharon and Jean Burton and Susan Prendergast and Monica Delray and Jody Rouisse, Grace’s former garden club cronies. Does Grace still talk to them? he wonders. He should ask her. Whom is she friends with now? Whom does she confide in?

The whistle blows. The swimmers race into the water, shrieking and laughing.

“That looks like fun,” Grace says. “Maybe we should do it next year.”

Eddie would rather eat glass. “Maybe,” he says.

After the plungers have dried off and are enjoying hot cider and doughnuts, Eddie sees a man heading toward them. He’s wearing a black Speedo, the kind that competitive swimmers wear, and has a towel hanging off his shoulders like a cape. Because he’s dripping wet and more than half naked, it takes Eddie a moment to realize it’s Benton Coe.

“Eddie,” Benton says. He offers Eddie a hand, which Eddie shakes as firmly as he can. “Grace.” He bends over to kiss Grace on the cheek.

“How was it?” Grace asks. “Cold?”

Eddie doesn’t bother listening to Benton’s response; he doesn’t care if it was cold or not. All Eddie cares about is Grace’s tone of voice and her facial expression. She sounds calm, normal. At first Eddie feels gratified by this; Benton’s presence doesn’t seem to fluster Grace one bit. But then Eddie realizes that the only way Grace could nonchalantly converse with the man she had a red-hot affair with, who has returned to the island after an absence of two and a half years, is if…

Grace has seen Benton before, Eddie thinks. She has talked to him before.

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Benton says. He wraps the towel around his waist, shielding his lower half, thank God, but giving both Grace and Eddie a wonderful view of his broad shoulders and rippling abdominal muscles. “So anyway, how are you guys? Happy Thanksgiving.”

JENNIFER

Usually, Jennifer loves Thanksgiving at the Winter Street Inn. For starters, Nantucket is easy to get to. Last year was their year to be with Jennifer’s mother in San Francisco, which involved cross-country flights and, by obvious necessity, also involved Jennifer’s mother, Beverly, who is trying on her best day. Secondly, the inn is cozy and Nantucket is both festive and charming at the holidays. Mitzi is an uneven cook, but she does a pretty good job with this meal and she isn’t afraid to delegate. Jennifer has been assigned two salads.

But Jennifer can’t think about the salads, or about Thanksgiving at all, until she gives Danko an answer about Real-Life Rehab. She promised him an answer by Friday the seventeenth. When Jennifer asks for an extension, he gives her through the weekend, but he says he needs an answer by end of business on Monday or the network will hire their second choice.

Jennifer has told no one about the offer or about the fact that she has lost the penthouse project. She did pick up one small job designing and decorating side-by-side nurseries for a fantastically wealthy couple in Back Bay named the Printers, who just found out they’re pregnant with boy-girl twins after twelve years of in vitro. When Jennifer goes to meet with Paige Printer for the first time, she brings along her file of playroom ideas, and Paige loves them so much that Jennifer scores herself a third room to decorate in the Printer home.

The Printer project will take only sixty or seventy hours, sum total, to order for and install. It’s a snack, not a meal, but at least when Jennifer tells Patrick that she’s “off to work,” she’s not lying.

She needs to talk to Patrick! But she wants to think the decision through herself first, and giving real consideration to all the factors involved takes time. She bounces back and forth between Yes, I’ll do the show and No, I won’t with the regularity of a championship tennis rally.

Yes, she’ll do it: There are thousands of interior decorators in the country, and only a couple dozen viable design shows. Jennifer is phenomenally lucky to have been offered a job as the host—not a consultant, and not a pretty accessory to a man. The face, voice, and talent of this show will be Jennifer Quinn. The show has a message; it has a heart. They are rehabbing houses in neighborhoods that desperately need hope. And Jennifer, as a former pill addict, is sending her own message. There is life—a good life—waiting for people out there, postaddiction.

No, she won’t do it: She doesn’t want to be labeled as a pill addict. It’s shameful. It’s a dirty little secret. Danko said there would be endorsements and that her personal business would take off like a rocket, but who wants a known addict to walk into her home? Who wants a known addict repping his products? Nobody, Jennifer thinks. It will be a stain on her character; it’ll be the only thing people will think of when they see her. If she has a bad day, if she loses her temper, if she’s weepy or goofy or impatient or temperamental, people will wonder: Has she had a relapse? Is she back on the pills?

But perhaps the darkest reason Jennifer would say no to Danko’s offer is that once she has announced herself to the country as a recovering addict, she can’t go back on pills. That door—which Jennifer thought was opening ever so slightly a few weeks ago—would be slammed shut and locked forever.

Both the yes and the no arguments are so compelling that she can’t decide between them.