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Swans mate for life, Link thinks. This has always made them seem morally superior to other birds, although somewhere he read that swans cheat. He hopes that was an internet hoax.
Mallory runs her hands over the worn-smooth boards of the deck and thinks about how good it feels to finally have something worth sharing.
No one has ever been unhappy about seeing hors d’oeuvres.
“Just be aware that what you achieve doesn’t matter as much as what kind of person you are,”
Her litmus test had always been, Is your name suitable for a Supreme Court justice? Safe to say, in Ursula’s opinion, there would never be a Supreme Court justice named Krystel. This was a perfect example of why people disliked Ursula.
Weddings were tricky, Jake decided after his third bourbon. They were either terrific or downright awful.
Marriage is a gamble with even odds; half the time it works, half the time it doesn’t.
Mallory, meanwhile, is single and the reasons why have been cataloged by her very best friend in the world: She is neither interesting nor original. She’s suggestible, a follower. She’s “nice,” like a jelly jar filled with daisies or a pony that trots in a circle.
Mallory has lived on Nantucket for four years and still she finds the summertime here so beautiful that it hurts. Probably because the summer is fleeting, evanescent. It always ends. Mallory doesn’t want it to end. She yearns for something that will stay, something permanent.
So, what, you sent the book to Mal? You two have…a little book group?” Coop laughs at his own joke—but maybe it’s not funny. Maybe Coop should start reading and join a book group. What a great way to meet smart women.
