Neither of her boys had ever let her set them up with any of the fabulous people she knew. Had they failed to notice that she understood them better than anyone in the world? Had they failed to notice that she had very discerning taste? “There are many impressive and beautiful women in my circle.”
“I’m not really interested in women in your circle,” Jude said.
Her eyes rounded. “You two arefrommy circle! It's reverse snobbery to say that people in my circle aren’t good enough for you.”
“It isn’t that they’re not good enough for us,” Jeremiah said. “It’s that they’re shallow and not very nice.”
“What!” She needed to keep in mind that her sons enjoyed the sport of needling her. “You haven’t even met the women that I’d like to introduce Jude to. It’s shallow and not very nice of you to stereotype without giving them a chance.” She flourished a hand toward Burke. “Burke is in my circle!”
Burke grinned at her. “Right. And I’m niceandnot shallow.”
“Exactly.” Thank goodness she’d invited Burke. It was a welcome change to have someone sensible take her side.
“I concede,” Jeremiah said, “that Burke is the best person from your circle that I’ve met in years.”
“I agree,” Jude said.
“Thank you,” Burke said warmly to her sons.
“You are also very handsome,” Marisol told Burke, unwilling to miss the chance to praise someone.
Marisol wasn't wrong. Burke, who was sixty-four to Fiona's fifty-eight, was fit and strong. He had the kind of appealingly rugged face that photographers like to feature in black-and-white portraits, thick pale gray hair, and a short beard the same shade of gray.
Fiona had met Burke back in their PTA days when their kids were in elementary school together. She’d thought of him then as Nice Dad. He’d always been good looking, too. But he just wasn’t the type of man a woman would christen Sexy Dad because he’d beensucha devoted husband and father. And so personable. Laid back. A good listener. He put everyone—including her—at ease.
His wife had passed away a few years ago and he’d recently moved back to Groomsport. When they’d resumed their friendship, Fiona had been surprised to realize there’d been a Burke-sized vacancy in her life.
Prior to his homecoming, she would have sworn her life already held all the friends it could contain. She'd spent years investing in phone conversations, meet-ups, and special occasions with friends near and far. She'd brought more gifts for birthday dinners and wedding showers and baby showers than she could count. She had friends from her volunteer organizations. Co-worker friends at her company. Country club friends who played golf as poorly as she did but enjoyed the chitchat and cocktails afterward immensely.
But it was only since Burke had reentered her life that she'd remembered what it felt like to click deeply with a person. They'd been hanging out more and more, and now she understood that she’d been in dire need of a friend like him without even knowing it.
Around the time she'd rekindled her friendship with Burke, she'd decided to try to mend fences with her estranged sister, Isobel. Thus Burke had been her sounding board as she'd talked through the thorny issues between herself and Isobel and the potential actions that might reopen conversation between them.
Fiona understood very well that her actions of thirty-five years ago were, technically, unforgivable. She'd had an affair with Isobel's then-husband. In doing so, she'd destroyed the close bond she'd shared with her older sister. Back then, she'd been so stupid with love and desire that she'd been willing to sacrifice Isobel for Felix. She'd lived plenty long enough since then to bitterly regret that choice.
Now, her hope of establishing a dialogue between herself and Isobel hung on the three things that may have softened her sister. One, time. Two, Isobel was a Christian who believed in grace. Three, Fiona had gotten her comeuppance when Felix had ended up betraying her, also, with the housekeeper.
Recently, she'd worked up the courage to send Isobel a letter. In it, she’d expressed how sorry she was. The letter had come straight back markedReturn to Sender. Isobel had refused it without even reading it. Which had been a setback but not a shock. A disappointment but not an end to Fiona's hopes.
Back when Fiona was eight and Isobel nine, their amateur astronomer dad had taken the family to see a total solar eclipse of the sun in South America. She and her sister were the second and third in a line of siblings that totaled seven. They'd become wealthy women, but they hadn't started out that way. They'd started out in a big, messy, wonderful, middle-class family.
She and Isobel had stood side by side while the South American eclipse had turned the world dark around them during the middle of the day. It had been one of the most wondrous experiences of her childhood. In the awestruck aftermath of the eclipse, they'd turned to each other and made a solemn pinky-promise to experience together the total solar eclipse that was coming to their very own Maine neighborhood decades in the future.
Those decades had come and gone. Maine's eclipse would occur in seven months and Fiona wanted, very much, to make good on their pinky-promise and watch the eclipse together. In part, she wanted that because she missed her sister. In part, she wanted that because their parents weren’t getting any younger. Her mother and father hadn't had all seven of their children in one room for three-and-a-half decades. It would mean the world to them if she and Isobel could reconcile enough to attend the same family functions.
At present, she was taking time to ponder next steps on the Isobel front.
“Are you dating anyone?” Marisol asked Burke.
“No. I’m not.”
“Also busy with work?” Wendell asked.
“I’m retired. I have room in my life for someone.”
Even though Fiona had steered Burke toward friendship when he'd expressed an interest in her, she'd been secretly pleased ever since. It was lovely to know that he found her desirable.
“And you, Fiona?” Marisol asked.
