Page 32 of Summer After Summer

“Good.”

A chorus of oohs dominos across the sand. The waiters have come out with trays full of lobster and corn. In a few minutes we get served giant lobsters that are two pounds each.

“Whoa,” Fred says, playing with a claw. “These are enormous.”

“Do you need help or …?”

“No.” He starts to expertly pull the small legs off, then dissects the body like a surgeon. He catches me watching him. “We summered in Cape Cod every year till my father died.”

“I love Cape Cod.”

“You were thinking I didn’t know how to lobster.”

“I’m an idiot.”

He grins. “You going to eat that, or what?”

I return the smile, then dig in. The meat is sweet, like summer and the ocean combined. The corn is sweet too, out of season but somehow still good. I feel so lucky and happy as we crack claws, drag them through butter, and toss the discards into the large bowls in the middle of the table. When we’re done, the waiters clear the plates and bring us more wet wipes to clean up the mess.

“That was delicious,” Fred says, wiping his fingers and then his face.

“It was. But wait till dessert.”

“Dessert is the bomb,” Sophie says. “Right, Colin?” Her cheeks are pink, and her eyes are unfocused.

“I said one glass of champagne.”

“Hey, you’re not …”

I hold up a hand. “Don’t say it.”

“Okay, sorry.”

“No more. I mean it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Fred taps me on my shoulder. “What’s the dessert?”

“Strawberry shortcake.”

“That sounds great.” He smiles shyly. “I got you something.”

“You did?”

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

“I know, but—”

“No buts,” Fred says, putting a box on the table. “Open it.”

It’s small and blue. Inside is a thin silver bracelet made up of links and a tiny tennis racquet.

“It’s a charm bracelet,” Fred says, taking it out and attaching it to my left wrist. “When something important happens in your life, you get a charm to remember it by.”

I run my thumb over the small perfect racquet. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s not diamonds,” Fred says, touching the bracelet Ash gave me.

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