"So Hopewell is to be invaded by no less than three, and no more than a few thousand guests," said Lottie. "I'm glad it is such a large place. There should be room for all."

The Milky Way had never been a big part of Caroline's consciousness, but here on the island it stirred up the sky. She had never seen quite so many stars before, and so close, and so bright. She lay on the fainting couch in her third-floor room and was astonished at the stars' presence through the window. It made her want to see them outside.

It was only a little after eight thirty and it felt like midnight. She crept downstairs; she didn't want to wake the others. She took a dark green fleece from one of the pegs by the front door and pulled it over her head as she went outside into the sharp air. The night smelled like pine; the fleece smelled like an old friend. She looked up. The stars were dizzying. She hadn't brought a flashlight, so she had to be careful picking her way down the cottage lawn to a place where she could get a view unobstructed by trees. She wanted to lie down on the grass but it was already too wet with dew. The moon had gone down, or at least Caroline couldn't see it anymore. If she walked to a slightly higher vantage point, she might be able to see better.

The fleece had a flashlight in its pocket; its light was dim, but it led her through the path she thought would take her to an expanse of lawn outside one of the island's shared buildings. She followed it, trying and failing to pick out any constellation other than the Big Dipper, which actually did look like a gigantic ladle in the sky.

She was not alone on the upward path. Other flashlights were shining ahead of her, following the same path. As she approached the lawn she was looking for, the pitch-blackness was diminished by a blaze of lights in the public building-the assembly room. She wondered what was going on inside. Home-movie night? A bridge game? Not even two weeks into her stay and Caroline realized there were a lot of island activities that Hopewell Cottage, filled as it was with renters, was not privy to.

Whatever the activity was, it was loud.

She opened the dark green screen door, which creaked; the noise in the building stopped abruptly.

She took in the room. This one looked as if it could have been a one-room schoolhouse, with a raised platform stage at one end and wooden chairs in a neat row along the walls. Pendant lights hung down from the crossbeams, and tiny Christmas lights wound around the rafters. She wondered if they had dances there. They should, she thought.

"We're allowed to be in here till nine thirty!" said a boy. Caroline guessed he was nine or ten years old. "We can play in the assembly room even when no one's watching us as long as we don't break anything."

"We broke something!" said a little girl, much younger. "We broke something!"

"Quiet, Paige! You didn't have to tell," said the boy.

Caroline did not care whether the children had broken something, but the girl, Paige, red-faced and querulous, looked like she was about to collapse if she didn't confess. "What did you break? Maybe I can fix it."

"We broke a chair. James bashed it," said another boy. He spoke in a whisper.

"Shut up, Wills. It just kind of broke on its own," said James. The ringleader, clearly.

Caroline was not much good at fixing things, but an adult presence in the room took the anxiety out of the kids, or seemed to.

"We had a fight about the island show," said one of the kids. "So James broke it. The show is supposed to be next week! We're trying to do it and nobody wants to do it right."

"We want to do it right; we just don't want to do Sarah's dumb play," said James. "We want to do a good show, with pirates."

"We'll get in trouble if there's no island play. All the kids do it every year. We can't break the tradition. My grampy will kill me if we do."

Paige started to cry.

Caroline considered for a minute. They wanted to put on a play; she knew how to put on plays. "Usually a grown-up is in charge but Kitty used to do it with us every year and now she's too sad so she won't do it anymore."

Someone's depressed? On Little Lost Island? At least they're not all fit and healthy, Caroline thought. "Why is Kitty sad?"

"Max is bad!" said a kid named Reece.

"He broke her heart," said Paige.

Max, a heartbreaker. She would not have expected it.

"Could you do the play with us? You're a grown-up. We don't know who you are, though," said another of the girls.

"I'm Caroline."

"My name is Jessie. And this is Georgia, and Garrison, and Tucker. And this is Wills. He's supposed to be in bed but my mom says she needed a break so we have to be home by nine thirty. James has a watch."

James showed off his watch. A Timex, not a Rolex.

"Please?" said Wills, in a very tiny voice.

"Okay," she said, "but I'm not acting. Because what I really want to do is direct." She knew no one would get the joke.

"We're doing Peter Pan!" said James. "And I'm Captain Hook!"

"Frozen!" said all the girls at once.

"Don't fight!" said Wills. He put his fingers in his ears.

No wonder that poor Kitty isn't directing this year, Caroline thought.

"We have to have princesses."

"I hate princesses. Princesses are stupid."

"Peter Pan is stupid."

The argument was going nowhere.

"You have to decide," said James, looking right at her.

"No," said Caroline. "You guys have to decide. You decide, and I'll make everything work."

There was silence for a moment. Then Wills shouted out, "Frozen Peter Pan!" and an owl hooted.

"Whoa," said Jessie.

They all looked at Caroline.

"All in favor say aye-aye!" she said.

They were all in favor. "Aye-aye!"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

Rose was only a little envious as she watched Lottie spend all Friday morning getting ready for Jon and Ethan. They loaded up on egg noodles, strawberry yogurt, string cheese, apple juice boxes, and hot dogs for Ethan; Maker's Mark, chips and salsa, and a great-looking peach pie for Jon. It was hot and muggy on the mainland, and there wasn't enough time to stop at the library and call home. Besides, it would have been hard to talk to her family knowing that they weren't coming, while Jon and Ethan were.

The ride over to Little Lost cooled them off, just in time for the long, uphill, wheelbarrow-pushing path to Hopewell.

"I'm going to lose weight on this vacation," Lottie said. "And get new muscles."

Everything was working out for Lottie, just as she had said it would. It would be nice if all Lottie's predictions came true.

"Where is he going to sleep, Lottie?" Rose asked as they unloaded the groceries. She noticed there were fresh wildflowers on the table. "Caroline's been up, I see. Are you going to put him in that dorm room? It's kind of big for one kid."

"I know," said Lottie. "Ethan could never sleep there alone. But there's a little room adjoining mine. I didn't even know it was there till I was poking around yesterday. It's either supposed to be a really big closet or a really tiny bedroom. But it has a window. I'll show you."

Rose peeked into the sweet, small room adjoining Lottie's. "This house is Castle Gormenghast," she said.

"What's that?" Lottie asked.

"A gigantic place. In a book," Rose said. One of Fred's old favorites.

"Maybe you can help me bring down a mattress from the dorm room?" Lottie asked.

Rose and Lottie found one that they could easily get downstairs. The room was just the right size for it. The tiny window opened easily, to their surprise; a night-light there worked when they plugged it in, and behind an old velvet curtain there was a supply of quilts and pillows.

"Ethan might actually sleep here," said Lottie. "Which would make Jon happy."

"I'm sure," said Rose.

Lottie smiled. "We had a ton of fun together before we got married. We still have fun a lot of the time. He's a good guy when he lets himself be."

"I'm sure we'll all love him," Rose said, even though she wasn't sure at all, and she was wary of having the balance of the cottage change with a new arrival.

Lottie grinned at her. "He's really a sweetheart under all the bluff. Beverly won't want much to do with him at first-that I know-and Jon will be totally blown away by Caroline when he first meets her. I hope he doesn't show off too much."

Yikes. "Maybe I'll go upstairs and round up some books for Ethan. I haven't gotten myself to the library yet. I keep taking the wrong path and ending up at the post office."

Rose went back upstairs. She imagined the twins in the dorm room, having a blast with Ethan. Unlikely, she thought. She'd spend all her time making sure Ben didn't alienate the other kids and, more to the point, the other parents, and he'd be awful to Bea and then Fred would say she was too involved with them both and the whole charm of the island would be spoiled. Nice.

She went over to the bookshelf and found a pile of Dr. Seuss books that she imagined Ethan would like. When she got downstairs the alcove had aired out, and between the books and the little nest of a bed and the light streaming in from the window, it looked like a cozy spot.

"Am I crazy to think he'll sleep in his own bed here?" asked Lottie.

"I think he will," said Rose. "I see it."

The car trip from Providence to Little Lost took forever, even though Jon had started as early as he could. Ethan was a trouper in the car: the iPad was a big help there, and a long nap got him through as far as Bucksport. He was pretty whiny on the last stretch, but he perked up on the ferry. Lottie met them on the dock. Ethan flung himself into her arms as Jon lugged the bags up to the house. Jon was hot and tired from the ride. He'd had no idea it was going to be such a long walk up from the dock. If the place weren't so pretty, he'd really be steamed.

"Race you, Daddy!"

"I can't race with all your stuff."

"You can run to the end of the boardwalk, Ethie. Then stop at the top, okay?"

"Do you seriously get water from a spring? Why isn't anybody bottling it? Lost Island Water!"

"Little Lost Island."

"Way better name than Poland Spring." This island could be monetized in a second. He spotted the sign for Hopewell and Grundys. "How much farther?"

"Not a whole lot. It's still uphill, though. Hold my hand, Ethan. It's rocky here."

A few steps farther and Hopewell Cottage came into view. He could not believe Lottie was calling this giant place a cottage! This mom friend of Lottie's must be loaded. "Is this Rose Arbuthnot's place? Or Caroline Dester's?" Jon asked.

"Neither," said Lottie.

"What do you mean, neither? If I could get even a piece of the Caroline Dester business I'd rake in the billing," he said. "When do I meet her?"

"When she's here, Jon. Everyone wants a piece of her. Rose and I said we wouldn't be gawpers. You won't be a gawper, will you? Maybe give it a day before you talk to her about it."

"I'm only here till Sunday night so I'll strike whenever the iron is hot. And I feel it heating up," Jon said. "Are we upstairs?"

"No, down here."

"What's heating up?" asked Ethan.

"The sun," said Lottie. "Here's where Mommy and Daddy sleep."

"I don't want to go to bed!"

"It is so not bedtime!" Lottie said. "I won't even show you your room till later, how about that?" She turned to Jon. "I'll take him to the rocks over by the Grundy cottage. That's where I saw the crabs, Ethie!"

"I could crush a crab!" said Ethan.

"I picked up some Shipyard ale for you, Jonnie. You can grab that and take a shower outside. Or if you want a freezing swim just follow the path out the back door." She was always good about figuring out what he needed, and what he needed right now was to unwind from the drive so he'd be ready for the movie star.

"Crabs! Crabs! Crabs! Crabs!"

"We're going, Ethie. You can meet the others later, Jon. I'm not sure where they are. You'll find the kitchen. Oh, and you can see France from upstairs!"

Lottie was always a little hazy on geography.

He checked his e-mail. Nothing since 3:36 P.M. There really was no service here. Luckily on a summer Friday not a lot was getting done, even at his billing-hungry firm. He'd have to go into town first thing tomorrow to see what he'd missed. He kind of hoped Carla would hold off on sending any more flirty texts till he headed back on Monday. She'd been fairly free with them while Lottie was away. They were both playing it pretty safe still-no isolated body parts-but he didn't want Lottie picking up his phone and seeing a selfie of Carla posing with his briefs (a law firm joke that never got old).

The cottage seemed to be empty. He wasn't surprised. It was a gorgeous afternoon. Every window he looked out from had a view and here on the porch the landscape kind of blew your mind. The sun, low in the sky, lit up the water: sparkling, clear, calm. It almost looked warm-could that be possible, in Maine? Jon remembered from grade school that some parts of the coast were warmed by currents from the Gulf of Mexico (thanks, Miss McCabe), but was this one of those spots?

He grabbed a little towel from the washbasin in one of the bedrooms. I won't go in the whole way.

He clomped down the stairs and pulled off his shoes and socks. He left them messily on the back porch-I'm on vacation!-then charged down toward the path. The stones were tough on his feet, unused as they were to being out of socks and shoes. When had he started wearing socks so much? The stones were bigger and warmer as he approached the sea, but the water looked a little more intimidating. And cold. Now it looked cold.