Page 55 of Surfside Sisters

Keely slept fitfully that night, torn between elation about her book and uneasiness about Tommy and Isabelle.

The next morning she took a cup of coffee with her to her desk. She sat down, opened her computer to a new document, and titled it:Poor Girl.

Writing had saved her sanity before. She hoped it would now. She typed sentences and deleted them. She typed more sentences and deleted them. She typed:I’m going crazy.

She didn’t hear from Tommy or Isabelle for three days. The wonderful rush of congratulations from other island friends buoyed her up, kept her floating on happiness for hours at a time.

A large white envelope arrived in the mail on her second day home. Inside was a copy of her signed contract—and a big fat check. Keely’s hands shook. She was being paid for writing a novel! No,twonovels, becauseRich GirlandPoor Girlwere part of one contract, and she had a check for part of her two-book advance. She drove to the bank, deposited her check, and wrote a whopping big check of her own.

That night she handed her mother a beautifully gift-wrapped box with the letter terminating the mortgage inside. Her mother’s face flushed rosy, and tears welled in her eyes.

“Keely! I never dreamed…” Eloise was too choked up to speak.

“I never stopped dreaming,” Keely replied, pleased with herself. She’d never seen her mother look so happy.

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Friends came over one evening, and they sat around drinking champagne, which was rapidly becoming Keely’s favorite drink, and talked and laughed until midnight.

“Where’s Tommy?” Janine asked.

“Oh, he’s out in the Berkshires helping Isabelle pack,” Keely said casually, as if she weren’t nervous about this sudden helpfulness of Tommy.

She managed to fall asleep that night. She woke up ready to write.

Around noon, her phone buzzed and she saw Tommy’s name pop up on her screen.

“Tommy! I’m so glad you called!”

Tommy’s voice was somber. “I need to talk to you, Keely.”

“You do? Are you all right? What’s going on?”

“Keely—I’m with Isabelle.”

“What?”

“Yesterday Isabelle and I talked. We, um, reconnected. I’m bringing her home. And we’re getting engaged. We’re going to choose the ring together.”

Keely laughed in surprise and disbelief. “Come on.”

“It’s true, Keely.” The next words came all in a rush. “I’m sorry.”

Keely couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re joking.”

“Not joking. Isabelle knew I was miserable because you wouldn’t commit. She, well, I suppose she comforted me. And Isabelle was miserable because Gordon dumped her. We realized we love each other, always have, so…”

“Tommy. Promise me you’re not kidding, not trying some kind of sick joke. Because I can’t believe this.”

“I’m sorry, Keely. We never wanted to hurt you. But it’s done and it’s…right.”

“Why? I don’t understand. Help me understand.”

Tommy was silent for a while. “You know I’m not good with words like you. But, it’s like you and I are on two completely different life paths. You want to write and rush off to New York. I want to live on the island and work for Dad and fish. Maybe even, someday, have my own charter fishing business.”

“But what about Isabelle? What does she want?”

Tommy was silent for a long moment. But his voice was strong when he said, “Isabelle only wants me.”

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