Part 15 (1/2)

Haven't I, too?

Am I a tough cookie???

Do people like tough cookies?

The table was round and too big for them and Scarlett wished some of the others were here with her, wondered what they were all doing for dinner on this, their first day back.

Were there big family gatherings, full of hugs and happy tears?

Were Lucas and his brother surrounded by shocked, grieving relatives and ca.s.seroles?

And what about Max's family? Were they sitting at their table, hoping for the doorbell to ring, for it all to change to happy just like that?

She didn't belong here with these two people.

The view, at least, was lovely.

A long pier.

The water blue like ripe berries.

White clouds like chalk.

A burst of rainbow colors-someone parasailing by.

Just outside the restaurant, by a more casual outdoor seating area, a group of six girls and boys-close friends or cousins?-were laughing and running around in the sand.

Climbing up onto a big rock and then jumping off it.

Over and over again.

C l i m b. Jump. C l i m b. Jump. C l i m b. Jump.

”Do I have cousins?” she said.

Her mother looked at her like she'd just said something inappropriate. ”No, your uncle Tom never married.”

Scarlett nodded.

Another loss.

Then she said, ”So you met at a bar?”

”Yes. A bartender who doesn't drink.” He leaned over and kissed Tamara. ”Speaking of which”-drinks were being delivered to the table by a waiter carrying a small, round black tray-”I ordered your old favorite. I figured she's back. We can celebrate. Right?”

Her mother raised her gla.s.s. ”What a great idea!”

”Are you sure about that?” Scarlett asked.

”It's just one little treat,” Steve said. ”Right, Tammy? You know, after so many years.”

Tammy.

Scarlett's skin felt p.r.i.c.kly.

Was it a big deal?