“You should always buy a railroad when you get a chance,” Holly replied.
“Now you tell me.” Sam gave Lucy, who was curled up in a corner of the sofa, a condemning glance. “I thought making you the banker would have gotten me a break.”
“Sorry,” Lucy replied with a grin. “Have to play by the rules. When it comes to money, the numbers don’t lie.”
“Which shows you know absolutely nothing about banking,” Sam said.
“We haven’t finished,” Holly protested, seeing Mark dismantle the arrangement on the board. “I still haven’t beaten everyone.”
“It’s bedtime.”
Holly heaved a sigh. “When I’m a grown-up, I’ll
“Ironically,” Sam told her, “when you’re a grown-up, going to bed is your favorite thing.”
“We’ll clean up the game,” Lucy said to Mark with a smile. “You can take Holly upstairs now if you’d like.”
The little girl leaned forward to give Sam butterfly kisses with her eyelashes, and they rubbed noses.
As Mark went upstairs with Holly, Lucy and Sam organized the game pieces and the various colors of paper currency.
“She’s a sweetheart,” Lucy said.
“We lucked out,” Sam said. “Vick did a good job with her.”
“So have you and Mark. Holly is obviously happy and well taken care of.” Lucy wrapped a rubber band around the stack of accumulated money and handed it to him.
Sam closed the game box and gave Lucy a friendly, deliberate smile. “Want some wine?”
“That sounds nice.”
“Let’s drink it outside. There’s a strawberry moon out.”
“Strawberry moon? Why is it called that?”
“Full moon for June. Time to gather ripe strawberries. I would have assumed you’d heard the term from your dad.”
“I grew up hearing a lot of scientific terminology, but not the fun stuff.” Lucy grinned as she added, “I was so disappointed when my father told me that stardust was cosmic dirt—I imagined it was going to sparkle like pixie dust.”
In a few minutes Sam had carried her out to the front porch and lowered her into a wicker armchair with her leg propped on an ottoman. After handing her a glass of wine that tasted like berries and a hint of smoke, Sam sat in a chair beside hers. It was a clear night. You could see into the dark and infinite spaces between the stars.
“I like this,” Lucy said, realizing that Sam had poured their wine into old-fashioned jam jars. “I remember drinking out of these when I used to visit my grandparents.”
“In light of recent events,” Sam said, “I decided not to trust you with our good glassware.” He smiled at her expression.
As she averted her gaze from his, Lucy noticed that one of the Velcro straps on her splint wasn’t perfectly aligned. Awkwardly she reached down to straighten it.
Without a word Sam came to help her.
“Thank you,” Lucy said. “Sometimes I get kind of picky about wanting things to be lined up.”
“I know. You also like the seam of your sock to run straight across your toes. And you don’t like the foods on your plate to touch.”
Lucy gave him a sheepish glance. “Is it that obvious that I’m obsessive- compulsive?”
“Not really.”
“Yes it is. I used to drive Kevin crazy.”
“I’m very tolerant of ritualistic behavior,” Sam said. “It’s actually an evolutionary advantage. For example, a dog’s habit of turning circles on his bedding before lying down—that came from ancestors checking for snakes or dangerous creatures.”
Lucy laughed. “I can’t think of any benefits for my ritualistic behavior—it only serves to annoy people.”
“If it helped to get rid of Kevin,” Sam said, “I’d say it was a clear advantage.” He sat back in his chair, contemplating her. “Does he know?” he asked eventually.
Understanding what he was referring to, Lucy shook her head. “No one does.”
“Except me and Holly.”
“I didn’t mean for it to happen in front of her,” Lucy said. “I’m sorry.”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Sometimes if I feel something very strongly, and there’s glass nearby…” Her voice faded, and she hitched her shoulders in an awkward shrug.
“Emotion causes it to happen,” he said rather than asked.
“Yes. I was watching Holly color a picture, and I was thinking about teaching an art class for children. Showing them how to make things out of glass. And the idea made me feel incredibly … hopeful. Happy.”
“Of course. When you have a passion for something, there’s nothing better than sharing it.”
Since that afternoon, something had altered between them. It was a good feeling, a safe feeling that Lucy wanted to savor. Letting it take hold, she looked at him. “Does emotion play a part in what you do? Your ability, I mean.”
“It feels more like energy. Very subtle. And it’s not there when I’m away from the island. When I was in California, I half convinced myself I’d imagined it. But then I came back here, and it was stronger than ever.”
“How long did you live in California?”
“For a couple of years. I had a job as a winemaker’s assistant.”
“Were you alone? I mean … were you going out with anyone?”
“For a while I went out with the daughter of the guy who owned the vineyard. She was beautiful, smart, and she loved viticulture as much as I did.” His thoughts had turned inward, his voice quietly reflective. “She wanted to get engaged. The idea of marrying her was almost tempting. I liked her family, loved the vineyard … it would have been easy.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t want to use her that way. And I knew it didn’t have a chance in hell of lasting.”
“How could you be sure? How can you know without trying?”
“I knew it the moment she and I started talking about making it permanent. She was certain that if we just went ahead and flew off to Vegas and did it, we would be fine. But to me it sounded like someone throwing a roll of paper towels and a can of frosting into an oven and saying, “You know, I think there’s a good chance this is going to turn into a chocolate cake.”
Lucy couldn’t help laughing. “But that just means she wasn’t the right woman. It doesn’t mean you couldn’t have a good marriage with someone else.”
“The risk-benefit ratio has never been worth it to me.”
“Because you saw the worst side of love while growing up.”
“Yeah.”
“But according to the principle of balance in the universe, someone out there has
