I just had honeymoon cake with my ex fiance. He nodded once. Strong opening night. There is nothing worse than honeymooning with your ex. You're not technically honeymooning with him.
Clare looked at him. That distinction is doing a lot of work. I like precision. Lily pushed through the door holding a candy bar. My machine won.
Mason bent to pick up the jacket she dropped. His collar shifted. A thin silver chain appeared against his shirt. Something small hung from it. A ring, not his.
A woman's wedding ring. Clare looked at it. Mason noticed. For one second, neither moved. Then he tucked the ring back beneath his shirt and stood.
No explanation, no joke, nothing. Clare looked away first. Grant had come to Maine for reasons she still did not understand. Now Mason was carrying a woman's wedding ring against his chest. Apparently the honeymoon had room for one more question.
She had spent the afternoon wondering why Grant had come. By nightfall, Mason had somehow become the stranger, quietly standing three doors from her apartment back home. By 8. The next morning, Clare had already checked the weather twice, charged her phone, packed a backup battery, printed the trail map, and confirmed her lunch reservation for 1:30. At 8:15, the rental car company called her car had a flat tire.
Clare stared at the phone. "How long? Maybe 90 minutes." "I have a trail reservation at 10:00," the woman apologized. Clare looked at her itinerary as though it had personally betrayed her.
10 minutes later, she stood outside the inn with a backpack, water, bottle, and the expression of someone considering legal action against transportation. A familiar SUV pulled around the corner. Mason was driving. Lily was in the passenger seat, waving hard enough to injure herself. Mason stopped.
Lily rolled down the window. We're going to Jordan Pond. Clare closed her eyes. Of course they were. Mason leaned across the steering wheel.
You okay? My rental car has developed a personality. What kind? Unreliable. Lily looked at the backpack.
Are you hiking there, too? Yes. Come with us. Mason turned to his daughter. Clare noticed.
Lily noticed him. Noticing. What? She said. There are seats.
Mason looked back at Clare. There are seats. Clare hesitated. Her itinerary said leave at 8:30. Her backup plan said call a taxi.
Her common sense said getting into a car with her neighbor and his 9-year-old daughter was significantly better than arguing with a flat tire. Fine. Mason unlocked the door. Try not to sound devastated. I had a plan.
So did the tire. Clare climbed in. 20 minutes later, she discovered Mason's entire hiking preparation consisted of checking the forecast, putting water in the car, and making sure Lily had a jacket. That's it. Mason glanced at her.
What else do we need? Clare opened her backpack, portable charger, bandages, sunscreen, trail map, emergency poncho, protein bars, backup protein bars. Lily twisted around in her seat. What's the backup for the backup? Clare paused.
Mason waited. "There isn't one." He nodded reckless. Clare looked out the window so he would not see her smile. At Jordan Pond, Lily moved ahead of them, stopping every few minutes to inspect rocks.