Page 5

Willow knew Ralph was right. Her mother’s time was limited. More than that, she knew that the time her mother was spending on earth, just now, was no life at all. She had no conception of who she was, nor of the memories she’d once shared with others.

Willow thought back to her childhood here at the house in Lexington. By then, Donna and Ralph had been divorced for several years. But maybe because they’d grown up together, and maybe because they’d decided to remain the dearest of friends, Ralph lived only a few doors down and visited Willow and Donna all the time. This had confused Willow, at least a little. She’d assumed that Ralph was her father. But Donna had always made it clear that Ralph was Willow’s stand-in uncle, not her dad. “He loves you,” Donna had said, “but he’s not your guardian.”

Back then, Willow had yearned to know who her father was—but asking her mother had never led to any real answer. Now, her mother didn’t remember her father’s name. Willow wondered if that knowledge was lost forever.

Unless, of course, Ralph knew.

Willow raised her chin now and looked at him. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t been brave enough to ask Ralph months, or even years, ago.

“Did you and my mother get divorced because she got pregnant with me?” Willow asked. For she suddenly realized this was what she’d come to assume—that her mother had had an affair, gotten pregnant, and ended her marriage with Ralph.

Ralph’s eyes widened. “Oh no, honey. Nothing like that.”

Willow’s heart dropped. But the way Ralph said it now told her that he knew more than he’d ever let on. “Who was he?” she asked. “I’ve always wondered.”

Ralph twitched with uncertainty. It was clear that he wanted to get up and go.

“You have to understand, she swore me to secrecy,” Ralph said.

“Yeah, but I’m sure she never imagined that she’d have dementia,” Willow shot back. “Now that she’s gone, or nearly gone, wouldn’t she want me to know the truth?”

“I don’t think so.” Ralph’s shoulders slumped.

Willow stood and glared down at this man, this man who wanted to lord his knowledge over her and thought she wasn’t good enough to know her own truth.

“Why did you get divorced?” she demanded. It had never made sense to her. Donna and Ralph seemed more in love and in tune with one another than most married couples she knew.

“Your mother and I were married when we were nineteen,” Ralph said gently. “But things fell apart when we got older. It’s hard to explain.”

Willow rolled her eyes. It was yet another vague answer. “Ralph, I’m going to find out one way or another,” she stammered. “Maybe that means I can’t talk to you for a while. Perhaps that means I have to, I don’t know, get a million blood tests and interview all my mother’s former lovers and former neighbors and friends. Mark my words, though. I’m going to find out who my father is. Don’t you think I deserve that?”

Ralph continued to blink at Willow in a way that made Willow’s blood boil.

What Willow didn’t know was that in threatening to leave him, she’d already gotten her way. He adored her as a stand-in daughter, as he’d never had his own. He couldn’t imagine life without her, just as she couldn’t imagine life without him.

3

Nantucket Island

All that night and into the morning, Rose couldn’t escape her fears about that man, Harry Orlett. What were you up to in high school, Rose Calder? His eyes had demanded venomous answers. He’d told her there was money on the table that was all hers for the taking if she spilled the beans. But Rose’s secrets were trapped so tightly inside her that she couldn’t imagine ever hauling them out. And who would want to know her secrets, anyway?

The answer to that terrified her.

Bleary-eyed, Rose woke up at four thirty the following morning, showered, and changed. Ever since Maxine had gotten old enough to get ready for school by herself, Rose had fallen fully into baker mode, which meant keeping bizarre hours and working tirelessly before the morning rush. For hours, her knees creaking, she baked bread, cookies, cakes, and pies. She listened to the radio, trying to drown out her frantic thoughts. And again, a little after three, Maxine came to the bakery, eager to help sling desserts for the parents and children who’d decided to celebrate the first day of school on the second day instead.

“That was some storm yesterday!” one of the mothers said, smiling at Rose over the glass counter. “I hope nothing was damaged at your place?”

“We were okay,” Rose said. “But it sure was scary to be here! I was busy in the kitchen and didn’t realize what we were in for. Suddenly, all the light went out of the sky.”

“I guess summer’s really over,” the mother said, taking her bags of cookies and heading for the corner, where her hungry kids awaited her.

Maxine came out of the kitchen with a platter of freshly baked tarts. Smiling, she lined the tarts in the glass case.

“Thanks for helping out today, honey,” Rose said.

“You know I love being here,” Maxine assured her.

“Did you invite your friend today?” Rose asked. “Minnie?”