“It hurt to like him so much,” she said, her voice giving away her emotions. “Have you ever wanted anything so much you could taste it, but knew you couldn’t have it?”
He smiled. “Sometimes I feel that way with Kate.”
“Well, imagine you’re sixteen and stupid.”
“You weren’t stupid, Viv.”
“I was sixteen, though. So I jumped with a vow to let go of my crush.”
“Did it work?” he asked.
She snorted. “Hardly. The fact is, this bridge is…precious and not just because of our summers. Everyone’s summers. Who’s calling the shots? Where’s the historical commission when you need them? Who tears down a landmark without a fight?”
Eli just smiled and turned around to go home. “I don’t feel like fighting City Hall, Viv,” he said. “I’m busy praying for things that really matter.”
She walked back with him, taking a few glances over her shoulder at the bridge that somehow still seemed important. It could be cleaned up. It could be preserved. It could be a tourist attraction instead of a blemish on the beach.
Who else would understand? Peter, of course.
Why did all roads—and bridges—lead back to him?
Maggie loved the beach most in the late afternoon, when the sun softened and the wind carried just enough salt to make everything feel clean. The heat of the day eased. The sand cooled beneath her feet. The sky stretched wide and pale, and she could get perspective on her problems.
Which, since her conversation with Crista this morning, had been mounting.
Jo Ellen, on the other hand, appeared to be fueled entirely by the events of the last twenty-four hours.
“…and I’m just saying, if Connor hadn’t whipped that wheel at exactly the right moment, that truck would have T-boned him! He could be dead, Mags. Thank God for young reflexes. Also thank God he hadn’t had a sip of alcohol. I watch those things, you know. That boy was clean and sober.”
Maggie nodded absently, her gaze fixed on the thin line where sea met sky.
Jo Ellen continued, undeterred. “And Kate being back in Ithaca—honestly, I don’t know how she does it. I mean, now that I’ve been here, washed by this sunshine, the thought of a winter there? I know, I know, it’s July, but the cold comes fast. I’d just lie down on the sidewalk and let nature take me. Now, I’m closewith Kate, but not enough for her to tell me if there was another reason for her leaving so quickly. Like…you know.”
“Mmm,” Maggie murmured.
“Ordoyou know?”
Maggie shot her a look. “What are you talking about, Jo?”
“Well, everything but what’s really on your mind, I suppose.”
“Nothing’s on my mind,” Maggie lied.
Jo Ellen not-so-secretly rolled her eyes, but didn’t press.
Instead, they walked in rhythm along the wet sand, their bare feet sinking and lifting with each step. Gulls cried overhead. A pelican skimmed the water’s surface, wingtips brushing the waves.
I think Anthony is cheating on me.
Crista’s announcement replayed in Maggie’s head like a cracked record.
It was impossible. Entirely fiction. A hallucination born of hormones and fear and too much time alone with her thoughts. Crista always overreacted, in any situation.
Anthony adored Crista, anyone with eyes could see that. He doted on Nolie. In the three years Maggie had lived with the family, she’d never seen anything that indicated Anthony had a cheating bone in his body.
He’d worked closely with Nolie when she was diagnosed with dyslexia, and he cared for his home like a natural protector. He was not the kind of man who betrayed his family.
Maggie knew people, and she’d bet her last dollar on Anthony Merritt.
