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before walking to the door.

“I’m getting the giggles,” Ari confessed. “I’m going out with my grandmother.”

“Correction. You’re going out with that very handsome young man,” Eleanor said. “I just happen to be going out with a very handsome older man.”

Someone knocked on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Eleanor said. “Hello, Silas. You look quite presentable.”

“That’s the look I was aiming for,” Silas said, and they both chuckled as he escorted her to his Jeep.

Ari paused by the open door, smiling at Beck, and he took her breath away.

Beck wore a faded madras jacket and a sky-blue tie that matched his eyes.

“I like your jacket,” Ari said.

“It was my grandfather’s.”

Of course it was, Ari thought, opening like a flower to the sun. She felt beautiful and desirable and exactly where she should be. Why did the sight of Beck in a madras plaid jacket thrill her so? She wasn’t that keen on madras. But Beck, the very presence of Beck, so tall, broad-shouldered, so handsome, thrilled her. The worn cuffs and slightly sagging cloth implied the jacket had belonged to someone in his family and had been passed down to Beck. She liked the idea of that kind of family. Well, she liked his family. She knew she would love Beck no matter who his family was.

“You look beautiful,” Beck told her.

She couldn’t stop gazing up at him, filling her eyes with the reality of Beck Hathaway. “So do you,” she said.

Beck smiled. “If you keep looking at me like that, we’ll never get to the dance. Come on.” He took her hand and led her to the car.

At the club, Ari and Beck sat at a round table for ten. The other couples were all people Ari had met during her childhood summers. They’d grown up playing badminton and taking sailing and tennis lessons. Two couples were older, in their late twenties, like Beck, while Ari and her friends had just graduated from college. Tonight the division between old and young blurred. The conversation was witty, helped along by excellent wine, and in her heightened state, Ari thought they were all wonderful people. She was in the moment, completely happy.

Ari danced with Beck and with all the other men at the table. Beck danced with all the other women. Beck crossed the room and invited Eleanor to dance, and Silas came over and asked Ari to dance. Silas was one of those men whom you just liked on sight. He wasn’t particularly handsome, but very charming. And he was an amazing dancer.

Ari saw her grandmother dancing with Beck and felt—really, there was no other word for it—she felt blessed. Maybe Eleanor would marry Silas. Maybe Ari would marry Beck. Then Rowena Gates danced by with her husband, and Rowena was heavily pregnant, and Ari remembered with a sinking heart that she was pregnant, too. Still, Ari thought, she would remember this night.

At the dance, Eleanor sat with Silas on one side and the ever-perky Becky Dillard on the other. The ballroom was packed, the air fragrant with flowers and perfume, and people drifted from table to table, talking with friends. When dinner was served, either prime rib or lobster, depending on one’s choice, the room was quieter, but when dessert was put in front of them, the musicians took their places on the bandstand and began to warm up. Women hurried to the restroom. Men huddled to discuss sports or the stock market. It was just as it always had been for Eleanor.

Until Silas asked her to dance.

Silas liked to dance. As Eleanor was twirled away from him and back, she remembered this about him, how smooth and enthusiastic a dancer he was. She wasn’t quite sure she could keep up with him. It had been years since she’d danced and she didn’t think she’d ever danced like this. She found herself laughing with pleasure.

A slow song came on, and Silas pulled Eleanor against him. She could feel his heart thudding, or maybe that was hers. His hand on hers was big and warm and sturdy. His hand on her waist was thrilling. Silas wasn’t much taller than Eleanor, so it didn’t hurt her neck to look up into his eyes. He was smiling, and he looked amused. Eleanor smiled back, and as the music slowed, she rested her head against his chest and let herself be swayed to the gentle rhythm of the song.

Beck and Ari moved past them, and Ari waggled her eyebrows and mouthed “Hubba-hubba” at Eleanor. Eleanor smiled back briefly and closed her eyes. It had been a long time since she’d been in a man’s arms, and she’d never had a dancing partner like Silas. She didn’t want to think about her darling granddaughter. She didn’t want to think at all. She let herself be dreamily right there in the moment.

The party ended at one in the morning. People drifted out the door regretfully, not wanting to leave. Beck had taken off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves.

“Want to walk on the beach?” he asked.

“Sure,” Ari answered.

They drove to Surfside, where tonight the waves rolled in quietly, and the sea was calm. They took off their shoes and walked in the cool sand. They held hands and talked about the dance, the people they knew, the people who hadn’t come. The moon was almost full, and the ocean looked silver, so they sat on the sand and stared out at the water.

Ari remained in a kind of enchantment. She leaned against Beck’s shoulder as they talked.

She had to know. “Have you ever been engaged?”

“Not even close,” Beck told her. “When I was working on my master’s, I was a complete dork, reading constantly, attending lectures, figuring out how I was going to be the best therapist I could be. Before that, when I was in high school and college, well, I was the opposite. I don’t mean I thought I was Don Juan, but I saw a lot of women, and the

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