Their food arrived quickly and disappeared under a flurry of forks and hands pa.s.sing across the table.

"Gosh!" Maritza said, deeply exhaling. "That was so good it was a sin!"

"Yes," Olivia and Nick said.

They paid the bill and walked over to the house on Easton Street. Nicole was there waiting, and she introduced herself to Nick.

"This is a very special property," Nicole said, with a trace of awe in her voice.

"Yes, it is," Nick said in agreement and whispered to Olivia, "It b.l.o.o.d.y well ought to be!"

"Shhh!" she whispered back.

"Nicole? Is there any word on our offer?"

"Not yet," she said. "As soon as I hear anything, you'll know within the same minute. I promise!"

No kidding, Olivia thought, exchanging knowing looks with Nick. This very nice lady will be able to take the rest of the year off and the next one too. Even if they reduce the commission to one percent!

They went inside, walked slowly from room to room, and Olivia took dozens of pictures. Nick couldn't keep his eyes from the water.

"Lovely views, don't you think?" Nicole said to him.

"It's astonishing," Nick said. "Almost as astonishing as Sullivans Island."

"Where is that?" Nicole said innocently.

"Um. If you dropped a pin on the center of the universe," Olivia said, "it would . . ."

"Land on Sullivan's Island!" Nick said and laughed.

"I see," Nicole said.

"So what do you think?" Maritza asked Nick.

"I'm wondering if a place like this needs an historian in residence? It's very beautiful."

"The guest house will have your name on the door!" Maritza said.

By the time they met back at the hotel, Maritza had cut a swath through the shopping areas, her credit card a powerful machete. She struggled under the bulk and weight of shopping bags from Milly & Grace, Vis-A-Vis, Nantucket Looms, and Smiling b.u.t.ton. Olivia and Maritza ordered hats from Peter Beaton, and Olivia found a painted cast-iron antique doorstop that represented a fisherman standing in a small boat. Her purchases were insignificant next to Maritza's.

"Maritza?" Nick said. "The island of Nantucket is going to dim the lights in your honor when we leave. This is an awesome haul!"

"I know!" Maritza said. "We had such a good time!"

"We surely did. How was your friend?" Olivia asked.

"Charming and brilliant. Did y'all have lunch?" Nick asked, still incredulous, staring at their bounty.

"Yep. We had fabulous crab cakes at the Club Car and put the hurt on more than a few shops. Didn't we, Olivia?"

"I'll say we did!" Olivia said. "We found some wonderful things for Maritza and Bob's new house too! Really beautiful alpaca throws at Nantucket Looms. I got one for us too."

"Thank goodness. I was worried for a moment," Nick said. "I've been dying for an alpaca throw."

"Laugh now, but come winter, you will coc.o.o.n yourself in it," Olivia said, and smiled.

"It's a good thing they're just three of us on the plane!" Maritza said. "And by the way, kids, I'm going to have the plane take y'all to Charleston. Give me your tickets and I'll have Bob's secretary get them refunded."

"Oh, Maritza! That's incredibly generous!" Olivia said.

"Look, I yanked y'all out of your house on one day's notice when you're trying to get your new place organized, so I'm figuring y'all must be as tired as I am, right?"

"Uncle," Nick said and kissed Maritza's cheek.

"I don't want you to hate me. I want you to come back."

"We'll see you in just ten days. Ole!" Olivia said.

"And here are the books I got for Bob," Nick said.

"He's going to love them!" Maritza said It was six-thirty with plenty of light left to the day when Nick and Olivia turned the key in their front door on Sullivans Island. Had they flown commercial, it would have been ten-thirty. The house felt welcoming then, as though it was a living, breathing thing, happy to have them back.

"It smells good in here," Nick said, carrying their duffel bags into the bedroom.

"My potpourri and candles are finally starting to talk to each other," Olivia said. "You hungry?"

"Always. Shall I whip up a couple of omelets, or do you feel like going down the island for some barbecue?"

"Barbecue. Hmmm. I'm too p.o.o.ped to go anywhere. But if you went to Home Team and brought back a pulled pork sandwich, I'd eat it without a single complaint."

"Hmmm."

"And I'd kiss your face," Olivia said, and he looked at her through squinted eyes. "Big-time. Okay. All over!"

"I'll be right back. Hold that thought!"

When they had a hankering for it, there was nothing on earth that tasted better to them than pulled pork on a bun with the sweet red barbecue sauce from Home Team BBQ. Barbecue, a treasure Olivia was almost unfamiliar with until recently, was fast becoming her guiltiest pleasure. And Nick's.

They ate together on the porch, smelling the salt and listening to the waves washing against the sh.o.r.e. It was too late in the day for dolphin sightings by the time they sat down. Even the birds had returned to their rookeries and roosts for the night. The sun was already below the horizon, but the sky was putting on a stunning show of almost indescribable colors. Clouds were underlit in endless fields of purple and red. Wide radiant gold streams of fan-shaped light broke through those same clouds here and there, melting into the mango horizon. That night's sunset was worthy of royalty and the miraculous.

"What a sky we have tonight!" Nick said. "I wonder which angel painted it."

"It's unbelievable. Probably the spirit of Michelangelo," Olivia said, taking another bite. "This is delicious. I love it."

Their humble sandwiches were wrapped in aluminum foil, and the rocking chairs in which they sat cost less than dinner in Manhattan. Still, they were almost breathless from the great beauty that surrounded them and the deep haunting flavors of the slowly roasted and smoked pork.

"And I love you."

"I love you too, Nick. So much."

There was a sense of complete serenity all around them. Their simple supper may have seemed pitiful given the spectacular ever-changing sky as night drew close, but they felt profound grat.i.tude just to witness such splendor for the few moments it would last.

In the morning, Nick announced he was returning to the sea to find and conquer the biggest fish in the surrounding waters. Olivia was already on the phone with Jason.

"I'll call you back in five minutes," she said and hung up. "Nick! Don't go anywhere yet!"

She rushed to the bedroom and hurried back with a shopping bag from n.o.bby Clothes Shop on Nantucket.

"Here! I know this isn't exactly what you're looking for, but it's what all the men on Nantucket wear when they go fishing. So I'm told, anyway. Until we find the right one, this might do."

"Why, thank you, sweetheart!"

Nick opened the bag and pulled out a baseball hat with an extra long bill. He held it in his hand and looked at it. Then he put it on his head and went to the hall to have a look in the mirror.

"I look like a duck," he said and burst out laughing.

"Oh, my G.o.d! You do! You look like a duck!" Olivia was horrified.

"I look like a b.l.o.o.d.y fool!" Nick said, still laughing. "Who wears these hats?"

"I'm going to guess men who are terribly secure?"

"Am I really going to wear this?"

"You most certainly are not! Give it to me. I'm sending it back."

He kissed her cheek and handed her the hat. "Thank you for the thought. I'll be home for lunch."

"Sunscreen!"

"Got it! Just rubbed a forty-five SPF all over my baby face and neck."

She watched him swagger down the path with his fishing bucket until he was out of sight. For all sorts of reasons she couldn't stop smiling.

She called Jason back and he answered immediately.

"So, you didn't tell me. How was your trip to Nantucket?"

"Incredible. You wouldn't happen to know a good contractor up there, would you?"

"Yes, actually, I do. I went to school with a guy whose family lives there, and his dad owns a pretty big construction firm. I could call him for you. What do you have?"

"A very special client who's about to buy a twenty-six-million-dollar house that hasn't been renovated since you were in knickers."

"Knickers?"

"It's an old saying. Anyway, it's a big job. And I need a local architect or I might use someone from New York. I don't know yet."

"Well, there are three I work with here. Christopher Rose, Steve Herlong, and Beau Clowney."

"Hold on, I need to write all this down. And what's the name of your friend in Nantucket?"

"Martin McKerrow. His family's been on Nantucket since the Mayflower dropped off his ancestors."

"Wow. He must be from some powerful DNA. Nantucket's got one heck of a winter climate."

"I've never met another family like his. And he might be the smartest guy I've ever known."

"Would you give him a call and tell him to expect a call from me?"

"Of course. Anything else?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

Olivia gave him a list of all the contacts she needed for the house and for their personal lives.

Jason said, "I'll have to ask my parents about some of these. My mom is very particular about her doctors and well, everything. I can tell you, whoever she uses are the best."

"That's why she's so radiant!" Olivia said. "Would you ask Elaine to call me?"

"Sure!"

The big fat fish continued to elude Nick for the next few days. Nick would come in the house announcing that he had returned from battle.

Olivia would say, "Great! What did you catch?"

And after a sorrowful pause, Nick would call back, "More bait."

This went on for a few more days until he finally took himself to Haddrell's in Mount Pleasant and bought more respectable gear, sand spikes, and a cooler on wheels, which to him was a great personal indulgence. While he was going to h.e.l.l with himself, he bought a Tilley T3 fishing hat. Parting with seventy-five dollars for a fishing hat was like twisting a knife in his heart, but dinner at Le Bernardin in New York was often several hundred dollars. Le Bernardin was strictly a restaurant for very special occasions. But no matter how deliciously unique the offerings were from their brilliant kitchen, they couldn't compete with the uniqueness of a fish on the plate that was caught that morning. Well, he wanted to believe that.

Then he made another decision. He decided to fish very early in the day at Breach Inlet instead of Station Nine. Breach Inlet was really a fish funnel taking fish from the ocean over to the Intracostal Waterway. It was hardly a man-against-nature venture, but he was frustrated and demoralized by his empty bucket.

He cast out into the middle of the waterway. Then he anch.o.r.ed each of his four lines in sand spikes, sat down in his new nylon-webbed aluminum folding chair (ten dollars at Harris Teeter), and waited for a strike. Within two hours he landed three good-sized spottail ba.s.s, two whiting, and a three-pound flounder, the biggest one he'd ever reeled in. He pulled the hooks out with his new pliers and rebaited two of them with half of a small blue crab. He was hoping to catch some mullets. Red mullets adored blue crab. He did manage to get four mullets, and to his surprise he got a pompano on the hook of the rod baited with sand fleas.

"You're not supposed to be in this water!" he said to the fish, pulling the hook from its cheek and dropping it in the cooler to thrash around with the others.

Nick realized then that he needed a fishing buddy because someone had to explain to him how a pompano wound up in Breach Inlet. And his sanity might be called into question if anyone noticed he was talking to the fish.

"My manly pride has been restored!" he announced as he came through the door before noon. "Tonight we will feast on the finest fish ever to cross your persnickety Manhattan palate! May I have a roll of paper towels and a soup pot?"

"Persnickety? Who are you calling persnickety?" Olivia reached into a cabinet and produced a pot. "Paper towels are in the laundry room."

"You, my turtledove. And me too." Nick stepped into the laundry room and took a roll from the shelf. "Come see the catch of the day!"

"You're getting as brown as can be, except for the areas covered by your sungla.s.ses."

"Ha-ha! An occupational hazard shared by true sportsmen all over the world! A badge of honor! Now, come and see."