Page 61 of Summer Light on Nantucket

Celeste said to her grandson, kindly, “Darling, I’m sure that isn’t true.”

As the sky paled from blue to a smoky lavender, Nick sang “Drunken Sailor” and “Sloop John B.” He told the audience he was adding a few modern sea songs that weren’t proper sea shanties, but belonged to the deep waters. He sang “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” by Gordon Lightfoot.

Afterward he told them, “The depth of Lake Superior is greater than the depth of most oceans. Long before it was called Lake Superior, the Ojibwe named it Gicgi-gami, meaning ‘Great Sea.’ ” Next came Billy Joel’s “The Downeaster ‘Alexa,’ ” and finally John Denver’s “Calypso,” about Jacques Cousteau and his research ship.

When he finished, the audience rose to their feet yelling and applauding.

Blythe looked at her ex-mother-in-law. “Celeste, I think I’m in love with Nick.”

Celeste smiled. “Darling, tonighteveryone’sin love with Nick.”

The event was ending. Families gathered together to walk or ride home. It was only nine o’clock, so Blythe allowed her three children to go into town to buy ice cream, even though she couldn’t imagine how they could want it after all they’d eaten. But then, of course, they were children.

Nick walked across the patio to Blythe. Heads turned to watch him. Blythe noticed various women whispering and for a moment she felt like a fangirl being chosen by a rock star. Nick stopped in front of Blythe, smiling.

She couldn’t help herself. Throwing her arms around him, she kissed him solidly on the mouth. He put his hands on her waist. He had large, warm hands. Blythe nearly fainted.

Celeste cleared her throat.

Blythe dropped her arms. “Nick, you were amazing.”

“You have a beautiful voice,” Celeste said. “Your songs made me remember that we’re all out here on an island, with shipwrecks all around us caused by shoals that have drifted away generations ago. I thank you.”

“Thankyou,” Nick replied.

Blythe stepped back as people crowded around Nick to thank him, to talk about the memories his songs had brought. She returned to her chair next to Celeste. The evening was cool, and they adjusted their shawls over their shoulders. The club’s strings of tea lights came on.

Celeste leaned to whisper in Blythe’s ear. “I’m so proud of him I feel like I’m his mother.”

“I’m proud of him, too, but I certainly don’t feel like his mother,” Blythe said.

Celeste grinned and nudged Blythe’s shoulder.

At last, the crowd dwindled.

“Let us take you for a drink?” a lovely young woman asked Nick.

Nick said, “Thank you, but I already have plans.”

Celeste knocked her shoulder against Blythe’s again and they exchanged a conspiratorial smile.

How odd and wonderful, Blythe thought, that her ex-mother-in-law could enjoy Blythe’s attraction to Nick.

The waitstaff was folding chairs and carrying them away. Nick shook hands with the final admirer.

Nick smiled at Blythe.

Before he could speak, Celeste said, “I’m in the mood to walk home.”

“I’ll drive you,” Blythe offered.

“Thanks, but I’d rather walk. It’s a beautiful night.”

Celeste kissed Blythe’s cheek and strolled across the patio, exchanging goodbyes with the others on her way out.

“Well,” Blythe said, peering up at Nick from beneath her lashes, “now I’m all alone. My children have gone into town for ice cream. I wonder what I should do.”

Nick grinned, acknowledging Blythe’s flirtatiousness. “Why not come for a walk with me? We could head down to Brant Point and watch the boats come and go.”

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