Ethan was on the other side of the dock. “Go ahead and hop in,” he said. “I’ll be right in after you.”

I looked down at the boat’s camel-colored interior. It swayed slightly on the wake of a motorboat that had just passed through the canal, and watching the seats move up and down made me light-headed. But I did it. I sat down on the bulkhead, caught the gunwale with my bare feet and slipped in. My heart was pounding as if I were standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon. I lowered myself quickly to the front passenger seat and clutched the side of the boat.

Ethan jumped into the boat with ease and took his seat behind the wheel. The smell of oil and gasoline mixed with the scent of the water. I used to like that smell. I breathed it in, wondering if I could learn to like it again.

“You okay?” Ethan smiled at me.

I nodded.

Putting the boat in Reverse, he backed into the canal, then took off in the direction of the river. I was quiet and anxious, one of my hands still holding on to the side of the boat as we approached the new—to me, anyway—Lovelandtown bridge. This bridge was higher than the old one and the pilings were much farther apart, so that we sailed beneath it with ease. We passed houses that were unfamiliar to me, having been built or remodeled since the last time I’d traveled the length of the canal, and I welcomed that unfamiliarity. We exited the canal and sped into the open water of the Manasquan River. The hot, damp air whipped my hair around my face and a spray of water cooled my eyes, and I found that those sensations brought back not the night I lost my sister, but rather the hours upon hours of fun I’d had in my little boat.

I studied Ethan’s face as we cut across the surface of the water. In his profile, I could still see the boy who’d dissected crabs and kept eel guts in alcohol and lay on his stomach in the reeds, examining marine life in the shallows. Who could have guessed I would be here with him now, enjoying him, wanting him, loving him?

I swallowed hard, suddenly hoping that Ned would not be found responsible for Isabel’s murder after all. It was going to hurt Ethan far too much.

He glanced over at me and smiled.

“You’re lovin’ this, aren’t you,” he said. It was not a question.

I moved closer to him, putting my arm across the back of the seat.

“I’m lovin’ you,” I said into his ear, and I leaned my head against his shoulder.

CHAPTER 34

Julie

Two nights later, my mother, sister, Ethan and I gathered at my house for a barbecue, the main purpose of which was to meet Tanner Stroh. I’d told everyone to arrive at six. It was now six thirty-five, and Shannon and the guest of honor had not yet arrived. I felt wound up as the minutes ticked by. If someone touched me in the wrong spot, I was going to unravel.

I carried the bowl of potato salad from the kitchen out to the porch. My mother sat at the head of the long, glass-topped table, slicing a few of the beautiful Jersey tomatoes she’d plucked from her garden and arranging them on a platter next to lettuce leaves and pickle slices. Outside on the patio, Ethan, who was wearing a blue-and-white-striped apron he’d brought with him, turned chicken and burgers on the grill. Lucy stood near him, nursing a glass of beer and chatting. I could tell she liked him—she’d given me a barely concealed thumps-up sign the moment he walked in the door—and I was glad.

My mother had greeted Ethan warmly in spite of the fact that I knew she had not wanted me to nurture a relationship with him. She seemed her usual feisty self tonight, which relieved me after the somber way she’d reacted to the news of Ned’s letter the other day.

“Do you think it’s too warm to eat outside?” I asked her now. It had seemed cooler earlier, but I was probably in the midst of a hot flash.

“It’s fine.” She transferred the last tomato slice to the platter and set the knife on the cutting board. “What time did you tell Shannon to come?” she asked.

“Six,” I said, lifting the cutting board and knife from the table.

“This young man of hers is going to make a poor impression, strolling in here late.” She took a sip of beer from the glass in front of her. She always said she liked to drink a cold beer about once a year, and apparently tonight was the night. “I can’t wait to grill him,” she said. She actually rubbed her hands together, as if she was talking about devouring some choice morsel of food, and I had to laugh.

“Well, let’s try not to be too obvious about it,” I said over my shoulder as I carried the cutting board into the house.

I was back on the porch with the hamburger buns when I heard a couple of car doors slam out on the street.

“Maybe that’s them now,” I said, placing the plate of buns on the table.

I heard voices in the side yard, and then Shannon appeared on the patio holding the hand of a tall, slender man. Mom and I walked outside to greet them. Tanner Stroh looked freshly showered with short, neatly cut dark hair. He wore khaki Dockers and a short-sleeved Hawaiian shirt in a muted blue pattern. There was a preppy look about him that I knew would be a turnoff to Lucy but which offered me some small bit of reassurance.

He held his hand toward me. “Hi, Mrs. Sellers,” he said. “I’m so glad to meet you. I’m sorry we’re late.”

“Not a problem,” I said, shaking his hand. “I’m glad to meet you, too.”

Until that moment, I hadn’t realized that I’d been expecting him to have numerous body piercings, baggy pants and long greasy hair. He did not look like the artsy sort of guy Shannon was usually drawn to, but he was an attractive man nonetheless. Way too old for her, though. His hair was actually beginning to recede and I could see creases at the corners of his eyes.

Introductions were made all around, and I caught Shannon giving Ethan the same sort of scrutiny that I was giving Tanner, a fact which, I had to admit, made me smile. Everyone shook hands and uttered greetings in a respectful interchange. Tanner was cordial and courteous, and I thought of Eddie Haskell, the kid on Leave it to Beaver who hid his sociopathic tendencies behind impeccable manners.

The food was ready. Ethan brought the platter of burgers and grilled chicken onto the porch and Lucy and I took drink orders. Tanner wanted a beer; Shannon, lemonade. I would be sure to monitor Tanner’s alcohol intake. I realized it would be more than three years until Shannon could legally join him in a drink. She hadn’t even had her driver’s license for a year yet.

Once we were all seated at the table on the porch, it was my mother who got right down to the nitty-gritty.

“So,” she said, her attention squarely on Tanner. “How did you let this happen?”

Surprised, Tanner opened his mouth to speak, but Shannon rescued him. Even I felt ready to rescue him. My mother could sometimes lack tact.

“It was my fault, Nana,” Shannon said. “I forgot a pill.”

“It’s not the best way to start out a future together, Mrs…” Tanner blanked on my mother’s last name.

“Bauer,” she said.

Tanner nodded. “Mrs. Bauer,” he said. “But I love Shannon and we’re going to do our best to have things work out.”

“She’s my only grandchild,” my mother said, “so I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I promise,” Tanner said, looking uncomfortable for the first time since his arrival.

“Where are you from originally, Tanner?” Ethan tried to shift the conversation to something neutral.

“Southern California,” Tanner said. “My family’s still there.”

“How do they feel about…” I waved my hand through the air, encompassing both him and Shannon. “About everything,” I said.

He hesitated. “They’re not happy about it,” he said, and I respected his honesty, “but they’ll accept Shannon. They’ll love her once they meet her.”

Where would he and Shannon spend their vacations? I wondered. With his family or with hers? East Coast or West? Would I ever get to see my daughter?

“Shannon said you’re working on your doctorate,” Lucy prompted him.

“Yes.” Tanner added a second slice of tomato to his burger. “It’s sort of my own independent study program. Part history, part social science.”

“Have you started your dissertation?” Lucy asked.

He nodded. “It’s on the children of Holocaust survivors meeting the children of Nazi perpetrators. I’m half German and half Jewish, so the subject had a natural fascination for me.”

“Wow,” Lucy said, with genuine interest. “How cool.” She engaged him in one of the intellectual, academic discussions that she adored, and her enthusiasm was matched by Tanner’s. Ethan added his own contribution; he’d recently seen something about the children of the Nazis on the History Channel, and my mother talked about a Holocaust survivor who was a regular customer at McDonald’s. Shannon piped in from time to time, showing that she knew something about the topic herself and that their relationship was not just about sex. Why, oh why, couldn’t he be a decade younger or Shannon a decade older? I would have felt so much better about the entire situation.

I seemed to be the only person at the table who could think of nothing to say about Tanner’s dissertation. My mind was elsewhere, and when there was a long enough lull in the conversation, I spoke up.

“Tanner,” I said, “I think Shannon really needs to stay here at least until the baby is delivered and she has her feet on the ground and gets into the routine of caring for—”

“Mother.” Shannon nearly stabbed me with her eyes. “We’ve already discussed this.”

“I’ve got a doctor lined up for her, Mrs. Sellers,” Tanner said, wiping his lips with his napkin. “I have some money put aside that will hold us until I’m out of school and teaching. We’ll be okay. I know it’s upsetting to you, and I was sort of upset, too, at first. I thought Shannon was a lot older when I met her. She looks older, she acts older. She’s so intelligent and…” He looked at my daughter and smiled. “She’s amazing.”