But Theresa just smiled distractedly. “Hi, Allison. Right over there,” she told the delivery man, who wheeled his dolly containing a large, rectangular cardboard box into the foyer. “New sculpture,” she added as an aside to Allison. “Another bronze.”
“Ah.” Enough said. Allison’s mother was having a bronze moment lately, and each sculpture was uglier than the next. It was heroic, really, that Theresa managed to keep a straight face when talking about them. “Have you seen the boys?”
“Driveway,” Theresa said, pointing to the still-open door. Adam’s cherry-red BMW convertible was visible through the frame. “I think they’re headed downtown.”
“Really?” Allison perked up. Downtown was a useful destination. She dashed through the door, waving wildly at Adam as he started to back up.
“What?” he asked impatiently, hitting the brake.
“I’m coming with you,” Allison said, climbing into the backseat with Archer. “I have an errand to run.”
* * *
—
Hurley Street was packed, and Adam had to slow to a crawl to accommodate all the tourist traffic. Allison watched her brother adjust his Ray-Bans in the rearview mirror, and flex the tanned bicep that he’d draped out the car window. Adam liked nothing better than performing for an audience, and he considered all of Gull Cove his personal stage.
“How is there no parking?” he complained, as if it wasn’t the height of vacation season. “I hope Sweetfern isn’t a zoo.”
“I’m going to the comic book store first,” Archer said, with a sideways glance toward Allison. Only she knew why: because he was crushing on the cute guy working the register this summer. Archer had told Allison over Christmas that he was gay, and she’d been touched that he trusted her with information he hadn’t shared with anyone else in their family. He’d intended to approach their mother next, but Father had died soon after. The timing, Archer said, was never right after that.
“Save me a seat?” he asked her now.
“I’m going to Mugg’s first,” Allison said.
Anders yawned loudly in the front seat. “I’ll come with you. I need a razor.”
“I’ll get you one,” Allison said quickly.
He made a dismissive noise in his throat. “You’ll get the wrong kind.”
“Not if you tell me what you want.”
“It’s easier to get it myself. Plus I don’t have any cash to give you.”
“I’ll pay for it,” Allison said, trying to keep her voice casual. She desperately didn’t want Anders trailing her through Mugg’s Pharmacy, but if he knew that, she’d never get rid of him.
Anders twisted in his seat to look at her. “It’s an artisan-made razor that costs more than two hundred dollars. You want to cover that for me?”
“Sure. Fine,” Allison muttered. Thank God for credit cards. Anders recited details about his ridiculously overpriced razor as Allison kept her eyes on the street.
“Got it,” she said.
“Oh, sweet! Look at that.” A car pulled out of a prime parking spot right in front of them, and Adam expertly parallel parked the BMW. “The streak continues,” he gloated as he shifted into park. Parking spots always opened up for Adam. It was annoying, actually.
“Congratulations,” Allison said flatly. “See you at Sweetfern.” As soon as Adam turned off the engine, she launched herself out of the car without waiting for her brothers. They had parked just a block from Mugg’s Pharmacy, and Allison strode quickly down the crowded sidewalk until she reached the distinctive brown-and-white striped awning. She pulled the door open to the discreet jingle of a bell.
“Hello, Allison. What brings you here today?” Mr. Mugg’s twentysomething son Dennis was behind the cash register, because of course he was. It couldn’t be a college student here for the summer whom she’d never see again.
“Hi,” she said, forcing a smile. “Well, first off, I’m getting the Zephyr AS single-edge razor for my brother. He said it would be behind the counter?”
“Indeed. Excellent choice,” Dennis said, unclipping a set of keys from his belt loop. He unlocked the glass case behind him and removed a black velvet box, as though Allison were buying a piece of jewelry. “It’s a solid block of stainless steel with a satin matte finish,” Dennis said, opening the box to reveal the razor inside. Allison had to admit that, as far as razors went, it was a good-looking one. Maybe Anders could hang it on his wall, since he barely needed to shave. “Very slim and ergonomic. Will you be wanting a set of blades with that?”
Anders hadn’t specified blades, and since they were probably