At least Kate was happy by the surprise. When she showed up at her apartment, she threw her arms around him. He clung to her, wanting to ground himself in her scent, her voice. Her optimistic certainty that everything always worked out for the best.
Kate lived in the beautiful Back Bay neighborhood, and they moved outside to sit on her apartment’s wraparound terrace. The sky was clear, but heat and the noise of car traffic rose from the street below. Kate poured him a glass of wine.
“We had a setback today with the wharf building,” he said. “A corporation swooped in and bought it out from under the Community Trust.”
“I’m sorry,” she said very matter-of-factly. “But maybe it will be something good for the town?”
The calm demeanor that he usually loved was suddenly maddening.
“I know what’s best for the town,” he snapped. She looked surprised. “I’m sorry. But we need more housing for workers, not hotel rooms for tourists.”
She nodded. “Okay. But didn’t you once tell me that some ecosystems need to work things out on their own?”
“Sure. In nature. But towns aren’t organic. They’re based on economics, and a social pact.”
“Yes. Which makes them imperfect. As any social pact is.”
She was right. Anything created by humans, experienced by humans—was subject to setbacks and problems. Towns. Institutions. Relationships.
Kate moved her chair closer to his. “Maybe this will make you feel a little better: I’m buying Land’s End.”
Justin put his drink on the round side table. “You are?”
“Yes,” she said, sitting on the edge of her chair, her knees together and hands clasped on top of them. “We’re buying the inventory, taking over the lease, and the location will be our Hendrik’s Cape Cod outpost.”
She reached for his hand. “I’m sorry I’ve been so torn all summer. I wanted to be in Ptown for you, but I still had one foot in the Boston store. I don’t like doing anything by half measure. And now, I won’t be.”
He leaned forward and kissed her. She was right. Sometimes, change was good. And there was no sense doing anything by half measure.
He’d ask her to move in with him.
Fifty-Three
After a week back in New York City, Shelby still hadn’t adjusted. She felt as much a visitor in her own town as she’d felt all summer on the Cape. She was back in her “real” life, but her head and her heart were with Colleen. She thought about her pregnancy and her babies every day. The only updates she got were from social media.
“Are you Shelby Archer?” the woman asked, shouting over the loud music. “I adoredSecrets of Summer.”
Shelby was back at Union Hall. She’d considered skipping her friend Eve’s party, but thought she’d feel worse just sitting alone in her apartment.
“Thank you,” she said to the woman, who introduced herself as “Wendy from Woodstock.” Wendy had long gray hair and wore a spangly caftan. She ran a famous writing retreat in upstate New York. In fact, Eve had mentioned to her at the beginning of the summer the night she’d been debating whether or not to go to Provincetown. Maybe Shelby should have headed upstate instead.
She still couldn’t believe the way things had gone down with Anders. After her conversation with Hunter that day at the Four Seasons, she had tried to leave before he returned, but she had the misfortune of running into him on her way out. Their messy conversation played out on the sidewalk in front of the hotel.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about Hunter?” she said to him.
“That’s what this is all about? Hunter is inconsequential to me.”
“You and I weretogether, Anders!”
“As far as I’m concerned, up until two nights ago in New York, you and I never discussed our relationship in terms of long-term plans. We’ve only just met. I assumed I was free to go about my life, as you have been free to go about yours. Like choosing to spend quite a bit of time with your ex-boyfriend.”
She had to admit, that comment took her by surprise. She’d never have guessed he noticed. But he couldn’t get away with conflating the two things.
“I didn’tsleepwith my ex-boyfriend. You did sleep with my friend. There’s a big difference.”
The fact that she even had to go through the absurdity of explaining it to him made her realize the conversation was futile. Better to cut her losses and get away from him.
Her feelings about Hunter were more complicated. Hunter’s night with Anders had been an honest mistake. Hunter was just being, well, herself. In fiction, a character’s actions needed to stay consistent with who they were. Why should it be any different in real life?Plus, Hunter admitted it. By telling her the truth, she saved Shelby from getting in any deeper with Anders. It didn’t change the hurt, and it didn’t mean she wanted to see her or talk to her. But on some level, she did forgive her.
