Page 55 of April Flowers

“You dressed up,” Margot said.

Noah laughed. He’d worn his best shirt. “It’s nothing.”

“You look good,” Margot said.

Hilary and Sam nodded earnestly.

“I think Avery’s done me some good,” Noah said finally. “It’s nice not to live alone.”

It was the first time he’d realized that.

From the kitchen came the sound of Lillian talking to Estelle Coleman about an old family recipe, one that had come from her husband Frank’s mother.

“She never thought I was worth anything,” Lillian said. “She always told Frank he should have married someone else.”

“You’re kidding!” Estelle cried. “How awful. What did you do?”

“I broke down crying a few times,” Lillian explained. “But you know how it is. Eventually, I had to go grocery shopping, clean the house, and make sure the kids bathed. Time shuffled me along.”

Noah felt it like a knife in his stomach. Margot winced and rubbed the back of her neck.

“Let’s go outside,” she suggested under her breath.

Margot and Noah whisked through the dining room and out onto the back terrace of the immaculate Coleman Estate, where they stood in rapture as Nantucket waves rolled slowly toward them on a sparkling beach. Noah felt as though they were teenagers who’d snuck out of a family party to sneak a cigarette or something.

He couldn’t hold the silence for long.

“I’ve thought about you all week,” he breathed.

Margot touched his hair gently, her eyes glittering. “Me too.”

“It was intense. Maybe it was too intense.”

“It was bound to be,” Margot said. “We both have so much on our plates. And it’s just been so long since…” She stared ahead, clearly captivated by the water.

Noah’s heart ached with fear. What did she mean? Did she mean she didn’t want to continue whatever this was? Did that mean she didn’t want to stay with him?

We aren’t even together, he reminded himself, feeling bashful.

“Thank you for inviting us for dinner,” he said.

“It’s nice that the Colemans are adopting us,” she said. “I never imagined. Funny that Daniel’s out, and I’m in.”

“Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined this,” Noah said. He dared to reach for her hand and held it loosely. “Have you seen Vic Rondell again?”

“He’s stayed away,” Margot said.

“What do you think he’s up to?”

Margot grimaced. “It’s complicated. But I think it has something to do with my father.”

Noah’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

Margot explained all that she knew. “He was reading diary entries from 1981—five years before I was born. It looks like my father had an affair.”

Noah took a breath. “Oh no.”

“It broke my mother’s heart, of course. It looks like he left for about a year. I never knew any of this,” Margot said, shaking her head. “But when he returned, and they rekindled their love or whatever, they wanted to have another baby. Or my father wanted to have another baby, and my mother probably wanted to keep him around. Keep him happy.”

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