The committee approved. Outside, Lily asked Clare to take a picture of her and Mason near the harbor. Clare did. Mason looked at her phone. You're not in any of these.
I'm taking them. That explains the physics, not the pattern. Her camera roll had almost none of herself. Before she could answer, Lily called from an ice cream stand. Clare, no sprinkles on mine.
I know. Mason glanced at her. Clare shrugged. She said they feel like sand. They do.
You agree with that? I live with her. They got three cones and walked along the harbor. Lily was halfway through hers when she suddenly stopped. "My bracelet."
Mason turned. The thin blue bracelet she had bought that morning was gone. They retraced their steps. Mason checked every doorway twice before moving on. Once for the bracelet, once for Lily.
Clare noticed that, too. They found it 10 minutes later beneath a display rack inside the bookstore. Lily hugged Clare as if Clare had personally negotiated its return. On the walk back, Mason fell beside her. You're good with her.
Clare looked ahead. She makes it easy. No, she doesn't. Lily shouted from 6 feet away. I heard that.
Case closed, Mason said. Clare laughed. Then the chain at his collar caught the light. The ring. She had promised herself she would not ask.
Apparently, spontaneity was becoming dangerous. Can I ask you something? Mason's hand moved toward the chain. He already knew the ring. For a moment, only the gulls made noise.
Then he pulled the chain free. The ring was small, gold, worn smooth around one edge. It was Rachel's. Clare waited. My wife.
He looked toward Lily. She died 3 years ago. Claire's chest tightened. I'm sorry. Mason nodded once, that was all.
No explanation of how. No story about the hospital or the funeral or the years after. He slid the ring back beneath his shirt. Then he pointed toward Lily, who was attempting to balance her book on her head. She's about to walk into a trash can.
Lily turned just in time. I was not. You absolutely were. The subject changed. Clare let it.
Halfway back to the inn, they passed Grant outside a cafe. He saw them. His eyes moved from Lily to Mason, then to Clare. He smiled politely. Too politely.
Hey. Hey. Clare said. Grant looked at Mason. Good day.
Mason nodded. Apparently, we passed a spontaneity test. Clare sighed. There was a committee. Grant looked at the lobster hat sticking out of her shopping bag.
Something changed in his face. Not anger, recognition. Clare was having fun, and he had not been part of it. That evening, Clare and Mason stood near the elevator while Lily ran back to retrieve her forgotten book. The elevator doors opened.