And,” she added, whispering conspiratorially, “my personal stock-
pile of sweets is nearly out.”
“Well, we can’t have that, now, can we?” He offered his elbow
and she gladly took it. “We could even bring some back for Charles
and Minnie.”
“If you insist on being noble and generous, I suppose we
can share. But most of it will be our secret.” Cora noted that
Thomas’s face grew even brighter at her choice of pronoun.
Perhaps Minnie ought to be cautioning me about the wisdom of
falling for summer boarders.
“Tell me about New York,” Cora said as they turned the cor-
ner onto the main street.
“It’s —” Thomas froze, then, without warning, pulled Cora
back around the building. “That woman — she’s just outside the
grocer’s — do you know her?”
Frowning, Cora peered around the corner. There was a tall
woman, hair dark and dress elegant and obviously expensive.
Cora knew every yearlong resident, and recognized most of the
regular summer visitors, but had never seen this woman before.
“No, I don’t,” she whispered, still observing. “Why?”
“I ran into her the other day. And I think . . .” Thomas paused,
then rushed out the next sentence as though embarrassed by it. “I
think she followed us here. I heard her, the night before we left,
speaking with m
y father. And she knew I had a brother when I saw
her, though we’ve never met.”
Cora frowned, unable to determine why Thomas seemed so
spooked to run into an acquaintance of his father’s. Then the
woman turned and, in an exasperated twist of her shoulders,
motioned for someone to come closer.