Page 146 of The Book of Summer

“There’s the spirit.”

Evan squeezes her hand. He doesn’t agree, but all that’s left to say is the wrong thing.

“Oh!” he says suddenly, using his free hand to grab his phone from the fake wood table beside him. “This might cheer you up.”

He wiggles his other hand from her clutches and begins swiping through the pictures.

“God, please don’t spring any nostalgia on me,” Bess moans. “I can’t take it. Homesickness is a disease that runs in my family and on top of everything else I’m positively infected with it.”

“I know what you mean,” Evan says with a snort. “And no. This has nothing to do with you. This is pure humor. Here.”

He moves the phone closer to Bess, so she can see the screen.

“I had a friend take pictures for me during the lacrosse tournament. Thought it might be fun to put something together for the boys. What I found was solid evidence as to why we lost so spectacularly. I am apparently the world’s worst coach. Look…”

He ticks over to a shot of a boy splayed facedown on the grass.

“He fell,” Bess says. “How sad.”

“You’ll note there’s exactly nothing happening anywhere in his vicinity. What’s the problem, Jaden? Slippery grass? Stiff breeze?” Evan scrolls through a few more. “This kid’s stick cracked in half, but I didn’t even notice until the end of the game. He just ran around with it broken like that. Oh and check out this clown.”

“Is he doing a somersault?” Bess asks.

“Yes. If you’re not familiar with the sport, that is not a recognized move. And here’s a series I like to call, ‘Where Am I, and What the Fuck Am I Supposed to Be Doing?’”

“Why is everyone facing a different direction?”

“Because they can’t find the ball! Ugh!”

Evan throws his head back. It clangs against the hospital headboard. Bess can’t help but laugh.

“Okay,” she says. “I do feel alittlebetter. At least I’m not the only inept person around here.”

“Can you be fired from a voluntary coaching position, I wonder?”

He swipes past several more.

“Wait!” Bess yelps, though she doesn’t mean to.

She wants Evan to stop, but not for any reason Bess can admit. But stop he has, on what is a selfie, as indicated by arm position. This photo is a close-up of a lacrosse kid andher,the woman from the market. She’s in her same hat.

“Who’s that?” Bess asks, despite her better judgment.

“That kid? Oh, his name’s Jack. He’s my favorite, even though he can be a little shit. Maybebecausehe’s a little shit? And that’s his mom Grace. Cool lady. She’s the one who took the pictures for me. I should introduce you guys. You’d get along great.”

“Fabulous.”

Bess exhales and tries not to cry. Grace and Jack and Evan. How perfectly cute. The asshole will probably make the world’s best stepdad.

She’s about to say something to that effect when the door pops open. And wouldn’t you know, Hurricane Cissy has left her veranda and is now making landfall inside Nantucket Cottage Hospital.

“Well, Elisabeth, that was some elaborate plan to get me out of the house,” she says.

“You came.”

“Of course I came. Hello, Evan. Don’t you think that bed should be reserved for the patient?”

Cissy has on a white cable-knit sweater, no hat. Her hair is a tumbleweed. Bess wonders about the gingham tankini. She presumes it’s still on.

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