Page 79 of Surfside Sisters

They had to unlink their hands in order for the waiter to set the drinks on the table.

Was it the alcohol? She had only two drinks. Was it the afternoon of running and playing with Missy, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine, the sense of freedom, letting go of words, letting herself give in to a completely sensual part of herself? Maybe it was the delicious sweet mussels she ate, carefully picking the meat out of the iridescent shells, like a jeweler teasing out a pearl. The tangy taste of the sea. The thick soft bread she used to soak up the broth. The laughter of others around her. The slow fade of the bright blue sky to a dreamy lavender. The boats sliding so deftly into a slip.

Whatever it was, Keely and Sebastian lingered at the restaurant, talking about their pasts in New York and Sweden, their odd lives of writing and scrimshawing, the need for isolation and the need for fellowship.

“Do you still have feelings for Tommy?” Sebastian asked.

Keely smiled. “Honestly, no. The last time I even set eyes on him was over a year ago, at Bartlett’s. He and Isabelle were such a couple, so happy together. I moved to New York, and so much in my life changed. I’ve changed. I love my work and I know I’m fortunate to be able to do what I love. Tommy, at least the Tommy I knew, would have been impatient with me spending so much time in isolation.”

She hesitated, wondering how much Isabelle had told him. “You know Isabelle and I aren’t speaking?”

Sebastian nodded.

“But you called me anyway.”

“It doesn’t matter what you and Isabelle do. I want to see you.”

“Is that true?”

“Of course it’s true.”

“It’s just that your family is so…entwined. Like I have to please everyone, Donna and your father and Isabelle, before I can”—she sought the perfect word—“please you.”

“I can understand why it seems that way. When we were kids, it’s true, our family was like bees in our own hive. But we’re older now, and separate. I live above my print shop. Isabelle and Tommy and Brittany live in the apartment above the garage. It’s true they see Mom every day, usually so she’ll take care of Brittany while Isabelle goes off on errands.”

“Sebastian, I miss Isabelle so much. I’d love to be friends with her again.”

“You probably will be. Maybe it will just take time.”

Keely bit her lower lip lightly, thinking. “I should tell you, Sebastian, I’m seeing someone in the city. Gray Anderpohl. He’s…nice. I…like him.”

“Are you committed to him?”

“No. And he’ll always need to live in New York. While I…I thought I could be a New Yorker, but I’m afraid I’m crazy about this island.” Keely looked at Sebastian. “And then there’s you.” Bravely, she asked, “What are we doing here, Sebastian? I mean…”

“I know what you mean. And I know what we’re doing. What I hope we’re doing. What I’ve been wanting to do for a very long time.”

He paid the check and pulled out her chair. He took her hand as they walked out of the restaurant and up the wharf to his Jeep. He drove to the apartment above his print shop. They went insideand up the wooden stairs. They entered the apartment. He shut the door, and before she could speak, he had his arms around her and his mouth on hers. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back with all the hunger and desire she’d been holdingin all her life. Sebastian picked her up and carried her to his bed.

—

They didn’t come out until the next morning.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Sebastian lying next to her.

“Oh my goodness,” she said. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” Sebastian told her. “Check out the covers.”

The top sheet and light quilt had been twisted into a mountain of fabric.

“It’s a work of art,” Keely said.

“You’re a work of art,” Sebastian told her, and drew her close to him, so that her head was on his shoulder and his arm around her back.

“What time is it?”

His chin dug slightly into her head as he leaned over to check the clock. “Nine-thirty.”

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