Nantucket by Nan Rossiter Page A

on Nantucket, and Tracey—the youngest daughter of a lobsterman and a waitress—was a native islander who was well acquainted with hard times. Unfortunately, she was also the childhood sweetheart of his best friend.
    Tracey looked up and smiled, her green eyes seeing right through him. “What what?” she said flirtatiously.
    â€œYou’re lookin’ as fine as ever, woman. Are you sure you’re with the right man?”
    Jack laughed. “Wow! You do have a line or two!”
    Liam grinned at his old friend. “I’m not a virgin, ya know.”
    â€œI’m glad to hear it,” Jack said, “although thirty years of celibacy is nothing to cheer about.”
    â€œWho said anything about celibacy?”
    Tracey listened to their banter and laughed. She loved Liam—she always had. In fact, if Jack hadn’t asked her out first, her life might’ve been very different.
    â€œHow’re the kids?” Liam asked.
    â€œGetting big!” Tracey said, reaching for her phone and showing him the most recent pictures of T. J., their ten-year-old son, and Olivia, his seven-year-old sister.
    Liam leaned closer to get a better look, and Tracey murmured, “Mmm, you smell good!”
    â€œI showered just for you,” he teased, admiring the pictures. “Man, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?” he said, eyeing Jack. “Look how blond they are!”
    â€œWhat can I say?” Jack said with a shrug. “It’s those stubborn Norwegian genes.”
    â€œStubborn is right,” Tracey said with a laugh, showing Chase and Devon the pictures too.
    â€œHow are your parents?” Liam asked.
    â€œFine. They’re living in Florida now.”
    â€œI know. Your dad didn’t want to leave Nantucket.”
    â€œHe didn’t—in fact, he still refuses to sell the house, so it just sits here empty. But they’re getting older, and after his heart attack, they really needed to move closer to one of us. Vermont was definitely out of the question since they’d had enough of winter, so they’re down in Palm Beach near Elisa—who’s only five minutes away. It worked out . . . although I miss them.”
    â€œYour dad’s a character,” Liam said, his voice filled with obvious affection for Dimitri Elias.
    She laughed. “He is indeed . . . and he thought the world of Coop,” she said, smiling sadly. “You must miss him.”
    â€œI do. Thanks for the card, by the way. . . .”
    â€œYou’re welcome. I wish we could’ve come.”
    Liam nodded. “Your dad spoke at the funeral. . . .”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œThe two of them always had such a good time when they were together,” Liam said, smiling. “Good ole Dimitri. I can remember watching them walk down the street”—he motioned in the direction of Broad Street—“holding each other up. Talk about a pair of drunken sailors! And your mom would always call me to see if I would go round them up.”
    Tracey laughed. Just then, their waitress came back with Liam’s beer. “Ready?” she asked, and they all smiled sheepishly and looked back at their menus. “Okay, I’ll come back,” she said with a laugh.
    â€œJust a couple more minutes,” Jack called after her. “Damn, she’s a looker,” he murmured, and Liam looked up in surprise . . . and then realized Tracey had heard too.
    After they finally ordered, the evening flew by, and Liam discovered that sharing his old friends with strangers wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. Chase and Devon were both funny and cheerful . . . and they were obviously in love. Liam also learned that Tracey—an art history professor at UVM—had been Chase’s advisor, which explained their lasting friendship.
    â€œAre you still teaching?” Liam asked.
    â€œNo, I’m home with the kids. It was too