“Flick and Addie,” Caroline said, helping the little girl clamber into a booster seat. “Kids, this is my friend, Sierra.”

The two of them offered timid waves. Flick, a boy with perfect café au lait skin and enormous dark eyes, said, “She’s not our mom.”

“Oh?” Sierra was tongue-tied. Then what the hell . . . ?

“Our mom died,” the boy added.

“Oh my God.” Sierra was mortified by the statement, its devastating simplicity and the blunt delivery by the little boy. She’d never been good at talking to kids. It just didn’t come naturally to her. “Oh, shit. You guys. I’m so sorry.”

“She said ‘shit,’” Addie said. “That’s a swear.”

“You’re right,” Sierra admitted. “It was rude of me to swear.” She sent a desperate look at Caroline.

“It’s a long story,” Caroline said. “Maybe another time . . .”

“Of course. Sure.” Sierra didn’t bother to mask her relief when a server with a name tag reading nadine came with coffee and hot chocolate. The kids devoured their breakfast while Sierra could only pick at her scone, her appetite lost in a surge of nostalgia and a sense of things unfinished.

Nadine’s hand wobbled as she poured, splashing coffee onto the table in front of Caroline. “Yikes,” she said, blushing furiously. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Caroline said, using a napkin to sop up the spill before it dripped over the table edge.

Nadine went and got a rag. “I’m really, really sorry.”

Sierra couldn’t help but notice the waitress’s arms. They were marked with an unfortunate constellation of garish tattoos. But the ink didn’t quite mask the bruises. She traded a look with Caroline, and just for that split second, the two of them connected the way they used to in high school.

“Please, don’t give it a thought,” Caroline murmured as Nadine finished.

“Thanks,” said the waitress. “Having an off day, I guess.”

Sierra’s mobile phone pinged, signaling a message. Shoot, she’d forgotten about an appointment to pick out coverings for the downstairs windows. “I have to go,” she said. “Come up to the house one day soon, okay? Bring these two cuties and we’ll catch up.”

“Um, sure. The kids have a lot on their plates right now.” Caroline glanced down at their nearly empty breakfast plates. “Figuratively speaking. Starting school and getting settled in.”

A brush-off? Or the truth? Sierra couldn’t quite tell. “Okay, I get it. And I have a better idea. How about you meet up with Will and me for drinks? There’s a new place down by the docks called Salt. We haven’t tried it yet, but I’ve heard good things.”

There was a beat of hesitation. Sierra couldn’t decipher the beat. She couldn’t decipher the friend she used to know so well. Then Caroline smiled. “I’d love to.”

“That’s great. Let’s make sure we have each other’s digits.” Sierra took out her phone.

“Is this yours?” Caroline turned her phone screen toward Sierra. “Because if it is, I already have it in my contacts.”

“Holy crap,” Sierra said. “I can’t believe you kept me on the list for so long.”

“You were the first kid in town to get her own cell phone. I was so jealous.”

“I got the cell phone, you got the siblings.”

“I would have traded all four of them for my own phone.”

She sighed. “I never liked being an only child. And the preacher’s daughter to boot. God, if you hadn’t rescued me when I first moved to the peninsula, I would have shriveled up and blown away.”

“Rescued you? I think it was more like I commandeered you to be the model for my sewing projects.” Caroline smiled. “So many memories, huh?”

“Well, regardless. They say the friends you make when you’re fourteen are the friends you’ll keep forever.”

Caroline’s gaze cut away. “I’m sorry I’ve been so absent.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re back. It’ll be like old times, you’ll see. Damn, I forgot how much I like hanging out with you.”

“I never forgot,” murmured Caroline.

“Aw, Caroline. I want to hear everything. All your adventures in New York.”

She swirled her spoon in her coffee cup. “It’s a lot.” She glanced at the kids. “Soon, okay?”

Sierra grabbed her bag. “It was nice to meet you guys,” she said to the kids. As she left the restaurant, she saw Caroline gazing out the window, her face stiff with tension.

Chapter 12

Caroline stared at the message on her phone. The week after their icebreaker meeting, Sierra had invited her to bring the kids over for a visit. It was a simple invitation from a friend she hadn’t seen in years. Should she go?

If she didn’t, it would be awkward because it would seem as if she were avoiding them. If she went, it would seem weird because of their long and complicated history together.

Just go, she told herself. Get it over with.

We’re not kids anymore, she reasoned. The past is the past. They could start fresh. Clean slate. A new dynamic, different from the inseparable trio they had been in their youth.

It was a brilliant spring day, the sun blazing deep into the shoreline and meadows, perfect weather for a visit to Water’s Edge, a place where she’d found magic and joy and trouble, years ago.

“Come on, you yahoos,” she said to Flick and Addie now that she’d made up her mind and accepted the invitation via text. “We’re going to see some friends.” She addressed the kids with a casual air she hoped didn’t sound too forced. “On a nice day like this, you’re going to want to play outside, so bring a jacket.”

“Do we have to?” asked Flick.

“No. You could stay here and contemplate your navel if you want.”

“What friends?” Addie asked.

“Sierra—you met her at the restaurant. And Will.”

“Coach Jensen,” said Flick. He lifted his shirt and stared at his belly button.

“Let’s go. You haven’t seen the Jensen place,” she said. “I think you’re going to love it.”

“How do you know?”

“I used to go there when I was a kid and I loved it. There’s a dock and an old barn and a really good climbing tree that’s probably still there. Have you ever climbed a tree?”

“We’re city kids,” Flick said. “What do we know about trees?”

“I want to climb a tree!” Addie headed for the door. Flick followed more slowly.

She bundled the kids into the car. “It’s a nice drive. They live up the road a ways.”

“Why’s it called Oysterville?” asked Addie.

“Because that’s where the best oysters in the world come from.”

“What’s an oyster?” Addie frowned.

“It’s a thing that grows at the bottom of the bay, in a shell. Most of the shells you see around here are oyster shells.”

“You can find a pearl in an oyster shell,” Flick said. “That’s what Miss Liza told us.”

“Your new teacher knows her stuff. Pearls are hard to find, though.” She flashed on a memory of the seed pearls she’d used in her Chrysalis collection. Her stolen collection.

They were quiet as they drove up the peninsula. The morning mist lay softly in the dense thickets that lined the road. Springtime rose up out of the marshes, alive now with blue heron and wild irises and budding trees. She pointed out a porcupine rooting in the bracken. Chittering birds flitted through the forests of stunted pine. In a distant meadow, a herd of elk grazed.

Yet despite the beauty all around, she clamped her hands too tightly on the steering wheel. She couldn’t stop thinking about the things she’d left behind. While living in New York, she believed she’d escaped the old feelings. But coming back brought everything to the surface.

With a nervous flick of her wrist, she switched on the radio and found a local music station.

“That’s Lorde,” Addie said, recognizing the song. “Mama liked Lorde.”

Caroline glanced in the rearview mirror. Addie was holding Wonder Woman up to see out the window. “She did, didn’t she? What else did your mama like?” She wanted the children to know Angelique, to hold the memories sweetly. They were so damned little. Would they remember her?

“Adele,” Flick said. “And Bruno Mars.”

“One of these days we should make a playlist of songs your mom liked, okay?”

Neither of them spoke. As the plaintive song drifted from the speakers, Caroline tried not to feel overwhelmed by sadness. “Hey, guess what? I’m going to be making superhero T-shirts for your school to sell. Isn’t that cool?”

“You mean everybody’s going to get one?” asked Flick.

“Everybody who wants one, yes.” She paused. “Would that be all right with you?”

Silence.

“Are you shrugging your shoulders? I can’t hear you shrug your shoulders.”

“If everyone has a hero shirt, then we’re all the same.”

Oh, boy. “You and Addie had the very first ones. You’re my inspiration. Is it cool that everybody wants to be like you?”

“I guess.”