Bells of Avalon by Libbet Bradstreet

Catalina Island.  It was hazy but solid in the distance, and seeing its outline through the faraway dark gave her an eerie feeling.  
                  Danny made good on his promise to part ways.  He and the other boys shot from sight, leaving her like a despised little sister.
                  “Boys, don’t you want to take Katie along with you?” Irene called after them.
                  The brothers looked at one another. Albert shrugged but, Max—the counterpart to his brother’s glumness—gave her a friendly smile. 
                  “Oh no, Mrs. Kittredge, she’d much rather stay with you—she told me so,” Daniel said.
                  Irene glanced down at her. She had the look that came frequently to mothers outwitted by their children.
                  “Is that true, dear?”
                  That was all Danny needed, and he was gone with the others.             
    Irene pulled her from conversation to conversation while serving trays bounced above her head.  She decided to count, sensing her mind becoming idle enough for the bad thoughts to break through.  She counted in groups of three until she reached fifty-seven…then back to zero.
    The conversations were mostly the same, the last note regarding the blonde girl tucked under Irene Kittredge’s arm. Isn’t that—oh yes well how do you do? Or better, What a shame about— followed by the same fabricated sympathy that she’d received from Max and Albert’s mother only an hour or so before. She glanced through the crowd as the exchanges went on over her head, waiting for her cue to smile and nod.  Between counting, her eyes returned again and again to the dark view of Catalina.  Her remote feeling of worry returned as she stared at the island, her memory trying to recall some crucial detail. Something very important she’d forgotten about the Riviera.
                  Why he’s even more handsome in person .  Irene was the first to say it, but Katie kept her eyes fixed on the island. 
                  Oh yes, he comes here quite often.   Another voice.
                  Of course he does , she thought.  And when he’s not here— he goes to the parties on Nestle Avenue.    But the house on Nestle Avenue was empty. Hadn’t she seen so herself? The marble foyer was dark and quiet. It had smelled of sterile disinfectant when they’d taken her to gather her things after the funeral.
    She fought to keep her eyes fixed on the little island off the coast. The island, like a friend, trying to warn her of something should have already known.  She saw a glint of rose-colored gold.  He was still across the room, not so close as she had feared.  Still time to get away. He hadn’t seen her yet, had h e? She tugged at Irene’s arm and was received by a perplexed look, between giggles. 
                  “I need to go.”
              “What?” Irene’s voice flipped on a high pitch.
                  “I need to go to the—” Katie looked and saw him moving closer, his eyes looking around the room, “—I need to go to the bathroom,” she said and tugged her arm again. Irene looked down distracted.
                  “What?”
                  “The bathroom, I need to go.”
              “Well go, darling, there’s nothing stopping you.”
                  “I—I can’t.”
    He was coming to speak with them.  She released Irene’s arm and bolted. She felt her body collide with another, but she was paces ahead before she heard the sound of shattered crystal and Irene yelling her name on an offended gasp.
    Her legs were strong and bare—unrestricted by the nasty second skin of white leggings. But if he hadn’t noticed her before, he’d have seen the slip of a girl with blond hair crashing into a tray of toasting