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convinced him that he’d be my guardian and make sure I stayed straight.”
    “Wait? You’re how old?”
    “Twenty-four.”
    “You don’t need a guardian. You’re of age. You can do whatever you want.”
    I shrug. “Tell that to Edmond. He convinced the damned judge to let him be my guardian until my parole was over. If I keep my nose clean, as Edmond puts it, then I stay out of jail.”
    “Who did you assault?”
    “It doesn’t matter. Some guy who probably looked at me wrong. I don’t remember because I was pretty drunk. But I knocked his teeth out and he stabbed me.”
    “Is that how you got the scars?”
    “You mean the ones on my back? No. I got whipped by one of my foster fathers. He didn’t like the fact that I was ten minutes late coming home from school. The bus got a flat tire and they had to get a new bus to pick us up. But he didn’t care. He was waiting for his dinner and I made it go cold. So he took off his belt and started hitting me with it. Buckle side.”
    “Jesus.”
    “Can we talk about something else?”
    We were almost all the way to Scooners and I’d filled her head with some of the gory details of my childhood. I didn’t want to think about the other things.
    “Are you hungry?” she asks.
    I’m starving, but I don’t have any money on me. It’s all at my place. And after spending a week sleeping next to Lily in that big, comfortable bed, I don’t want to see Mrs. Beachman’s dump anymore.
    Something had happened to me. I can’t quite figure out the moment of impact, but I know it was here with Lily.
    We walk back to my apartment so I can get some money. I see for the first time what Lily must have seen walking into this place. It’s a shithole. It’s fine for some college kids who want to party on the beach and drink all night. They have no clue how bad the place is because they’re either fucked up or hung over. I’m neither. My eyes are wide open. And I don’t want to be there. Not just physically. But I don’t want my life there. I just don’t know how to move it beyond the place I’m in.
    I grab some money from the stash I keep in my bedroom. I’d half expected someone to break in and steal it. But with a landlord like Mrs. Beachman, no one could ever sneak in without her knowing it.
    She’s standing by the sliding door as Lily and I walk out of the apartment.
    “You haven’t been around,” she calls down to me.
    “You just haven’t seen me, Mrs. Beachman. I’m here every day.”
    “Don’t lie to me. All it takes is one phone call.”
    I roll my eyes as I lock the door. “I appreciate you looking out for me.”
    Ten minutes later, we’re seated at a small café further down the beach.
    “We planted some shrubs here last week but I haven’t had a chance to try out the food.”
    “I never go this far down the beach,” Lily says.
    We order our food and sit in a comfortable silence for a while. I reach across the table and take her small hands in mine, stroking her long fingers as I examine each one of them as if they’re delicate art. Then I tap her finger, to get her attention.
    “You next.”
    “Me next, what?”
    “What made you come to Nantucket for the summer? You probably could have gone to New York City or Aruba or traveled Europe or something like that before you start school. Why here?”
    She gives an idle lift to her shoulder and looks down at our fingers still entwined in the middle of the table.
    “Because my parents didn’t want me to.”
    “Really?”
    She nods. “This is the first time in my life that I can really breathe without them having to say something about it.”
    “I don’t get it.”
    “You mentioned Aruba. Europe. I’ve actually been to both. We spent three weeks in Europe about four years ago. We usually take a vacation down to a tropical island or other popular destination every Christmas.”
    “You spend Christmas on a tropical island? Sweet.”
    She laughs, but for some reason I don’t think it’s