Yum Yums was just off the promenade on JFK. There was a line out the door; two of the women suggested turning back, but nobody actually did. Jen got a waffle cone and ate it while walking and declared it one of the better decisions she'd made recently. Lily and Sophie split a sundae. Ava got a single scoop of something dark chocolate and photographed it before eating it.
"You know you can just eat it," Brittany said.
"You know you can just not comment," Ava said, not looking up.
Brittany turned to Meredith. "I like her."
On the way back they took the promenade instead of the street. The air had gone cooler, the ocean shifted from blue to something darker. Nobody said much.
They were almost back to the house when Lily stopped and pointed west. The sky over the mainland had gone apricot and deep rose. "Okay," she said. "It's actually happening."
Someone said rooftop. That was enough—everyone moving, up the front steps, through the house, up the outdoor stairs, drinks retrieved along the way.
The western sky was on fire now—pinks bleeding into orange, the last bright band of gold along the horizon. Behind them the ocean side still held that flat blue before dark. The street below had gone quiet, beach crowd long since retreated, and the sound of the water carried in from the east. From a few streets over came the faint pulse of a restaurant patio. A sprinkler somewhere nearby. A neighbor's wind chime making an effort.
Five women on a deck in Sea Isle City in June. Meredith took a sip of her wine and didn't try to name it.
"We should toast," Lily said, her glass of iced tea held up.
Brittany raised an eyebrow. "You want to do a toast?"
"Okay, someone should do a toast," Lily amended.
Everyone looked at Meredith, because everyone always looked at Meredith, and she felt the familiar pull of being expected to find the right words.
She raised her glass. "To Sea Isle."
It landed easily, and the women raised their glasses—Carrie from her chair, Olivia at the railing, Lori at the far end, Jen in the middle—and the kids joined in from the steps, ragged and good-natured. To Sea Isle.
The sky deepened another shade.
Meredith looked out over the street and thought about Tom, probably home right now with cereal beside his laptop, modeling whatever early retirement scenario he was testing this week. Then Sophie, leaving in the fall, and how she was both ready and not, and how she had the whole summer to figure out what came after.
The colors peaked and then faded. No one moved to go inside yet. The first few stars showed up over the water.
To Sea Isle, Meredith thought, watching the sky go dark.
CHAPTER TWO
The checklist was sunscreen, towels, cooler, chairs, speaker—and eleven people who had agreed to leave at nine and were now treating that as a suggestion.
By the front door, beach bag over one shoulder, Meredith watched the house fail to mobilize. Carrie was looking for the beach tags. Sophie and Brittany had already left. Somewhere upstairs, Ethan had not responded to the last three times Lori had called his name.
"Beach tags," Meredith said. "Who has them?"
From behind the kitchen island, Carrie held up a zippered pouch. "Got them."
"Ethan. We're leaving." Lori was at the top of the stairs now.
"I heard you." His voice came through the door, flat and unmoving.
She stood there a moment longer, hand on the railing. Then she came down without him.
The walk to the beach should have been simple. It wasn't. Someone went back for the speaker. Then someone went back for the speaker charger. Then Olivia pointed out that Carrie had been holding the speaker the entire time.
"I thought this was the sunscreen," Carrie said, looking at it.
"The sunscreen is in the bag," Meredith said.
