outside the Overeasy Café. “It’s that Whalers love nothing more than a really good storm,” she finished with relish.
It was true. Helen’s fellow Nantucketers were proud of their ability to live through whatever Mother Nature threw at them. It was a macho thing, but also a chance to bond. They shared a good laugh over the howling wind, ice, snow, or rain while they all looked for their hysterical cats and retrieved their lawn decorations from each other’s living rooms.
The block didn’t have electricity, and folks were still sweeping up glass from the broken windows. In spite of all this, Helen wasn’t at all surprised that the café was seating people. In fact, she knew that at that moment her father and Kate were six blocks away at the News Store, checking out the damage. She also knew that if people started hanging around out front looking hungry, Jerry and Kate would open the doors and feed them. With the refrigerators out, the perishables would have to be eaten or thrown out, anyway, and Kate would much rather give food to her neighbors than watch it spoil.
Helen thought for a moment of how she should be there with them, but then she caught a glimpse of her new reflection in the one window outside the Overeasy Café that wasn’t broken. She wasn’t Helen. She was a cute brunette from the mainland, and she and her tacky, horse-faced mother were on vacation in Nantucket. These two tourists owed nothing to anyone.
Helen sat, put her napkin in her lap, and ordered whatever the café could make on a gas stove—eggs, bacon, and French-pressed coffee. As she pushed her food around, Matt walked into the diner. Helen’s eyes widened when Matt looked right at her and, out of habit, she pulled in a breath to call out to him, but his eyes skipped right past her.
It was obvious that Matt had come into the café looking for her. Helen groaned to herself and rubbed her tired eyes—Claire must have told him that Helen was missing. Helen wondered how much else he knew about her. Knowing Matt and how clever he was, Helen was sure he had figured out some of her secret on his own, like Claire had.
For a moment she wanted him to find her, but he was scanning the room for Helen’s bright blonde hair. When his eyes didn’t immediately spot her, he gave up. She wanted to throw her napkin at Matt and yell that she was sitting ten feet away from him, but she realized that it was silly of her to blame him for not recognizing her. Still, it hurt not to be recognized by a guy she’d known since she was in diapers. As she watched Matt walk out of the café, she couldn’t help but feel like she was faceless, alone, and about as substantial as a ghost.
“It’s better for him,” Daphne said consolingly as she reached across the table to take Helen’s hand. “The humans who love us never last long. Scions are tragedy magnets. It’s safer for them if we leave before the trouble starts. That’s why I didn’t give Jerry more time . . .”
“You never loved my father, I mean Jerry,” Helen interrupted bitterly. She snatched her hand out from underneath her mother’s.
“No, I didn’t. I’m not going to lie to you to make myself more sympathetic,” Daphne replied, moving her rejected hand to reach for the check. “But I would never wish harm on that man. Remember, he’s the only person I trusted with my daughter. You hate me for not loving Jerry? Fine. But the least you can do is respect me for understanding how special he was and giving you the gift of thinking he was your father.”
“Jerry is my father in every way that counts,” Helen said, wrenching herself out from the sinking seat of the booth.
She waited with her back turned while Daphne threw down some bills. On their way to the hotel to get their things, Helen spotted Hector. He looked right at her and then right past her, just as Matt had done. The twins were with him, wandering around by the ferry. Helen heard Ariadne call out to Matt, sounding surprised to see him, but Daphne pulled her into the hotel before she could find out what they said to each other. Helen heard Claire’s name mentioned right before the door shut behind her making it impossible even to tell what they were saying