Page 14 of April Flowers

“Melissa’s off the island, but she’s not far,” Sam said. “She moved to Falmouth a few years ago. Henry’s here, but he married later and has five little kids. Five! So he has his hands full.”

All Noah could say was, “Wow.”

Margot Earnheart was coming back to Nantucket.

Avery sucked more milkshake through her straw and blinked at him. “Who’s Margot?”

Noah sniffed. “She’s an old friend.”

“An old girlfriend?” Avery asked, hitting the nail on the head.

“I haven’t seen her in twenty years,” Noah explained, hoping Avery would take the hint that he didn’t want to talk about what had happened. He looked at Sam. “How is Margot feeling about coming back?”

“You know how hard it is to read Margot. She never wanted to tell anyone anything. I think it’s gotten worse over the years,” Sam said.

Noah tapped his lips with his napkin. He suddenly wanted to leave the restaurant, get in his truck, and drive as far as he could away from this place. But Nantucket was an island. There was nowhere to go.

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

Sam shook her head. “Margot knows the Earnhearts aren’t my family anymore. But I told her I would help her with anything she needs.”

“She won’t reach out for help,” Noah said.

“She probably won’t.”

They held the silence. Under the table, Noah squeezed his hands together. Derek looked almost as uncomfortable as Noah felt.

Like a miracle, their food arrived.

“We’ll let you eat,” Sam said, smiling as she got up. “Avery, welcome back to Nantucket. I hope you’ll let me know if you need anything. We’re not far.”

Noah remembered that Sam had moved into the old Jessabelle House in Siasconset—a gorgeous place on the bluffs about a mile from his place. Previously, the place had been owned by Sam’s Great-Aunt Jessabelle, a wonderful and strong-willed old woman and a librarian who’d never let anyone tell her what to do.

Noah knew that Great-Aunt Jessabelle had died alone.

Noah had always assumed that would be his future, too.

But now, Margot was coming back to Nantucket. Avery was here, and Mona was dead.

Everything Noah had once assumed about life had suddenly flipped on its head.

Avery and Noah ate their food in record time. One minute, it was spread out before them—pounds of french fries, onion rings, greasy and crispy slices of bacon, melted cheese, caramelized onions—and the next, it was gone. Noah paid the bill and got them out of there, giving a final wave to Sam before they disappeared into the freezing night. He hadn’t managed a single word over dinner, and Avery hadn’t pestered him.

But when they got in the truck, Avery hardly hesitated before she asked, “What happened with Margot?”

Noah shot her a look. Slowly, he pulled out of the parking lot and adjusted his hands at ten and two. Now that a child relied on him for everything (whether she liked it or not), he was extra mindful of his driving. (Maybe soon he’d start eating better, too. But that required far more concentration.)

“Why did you run away?” Noah shot back.

Avery groaned and didn’t answer him.

Noah pressed harder, “Where did you go when you ran away? Why did you come to Nantucket?”

Avery groaned again. “Fine. Don’t tell me about Margot. I’m sure I’ll find out some way or another. I’m back in Nantucket. I’ll find the gossip channels.”

Noah’s heart felt heavy. The smart thing was probably to tell Avery the truth about Margot now rather than have her hear the story from someone else. But he couldn’t bring himself to speak the words aloud.

He’d buried that pain so deep in the well of himself. He’d buried Margot there, too.

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