‘Don’t worry,’ said Shelby wryly. ‘I’ll make sure he gets fed.’

Chloe lit the candles on the table and avoided her mother’s gaze. ‘I don’t like him to eat processed food, Mom,’ she said. ‘I know it was the easiest thing when I was little and you were working, but Jeremy’s used to fresh food.’

Shelby took a deep breath and tried not to take offense. It was true, she reminded herself, that she had cut a lot of corners in the kitchen. Chloe wasn’t saying it to be mean.

Rob, sandy-haired with strong features and mild, blue eyes, had been washing his hands in the kitchen. He came into the dining room, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button of his chambray shirt. He always wore a tie to work at the senior center, even with his work shirt and jeans. ‘Hey, your mother knows how to take care of a kid. I mean, you turned out pretty well.’ Rob held out a chair for his mother-in-law at the table, and Shelby sat.

‘Pretty well,’ Shelby protested with a laugh, but Chloe did not smile and her face reddened.

‘Let’s sit down,’ she said. ‘Jeremy, come to the table.’

‘I’m sitting next to Shep,’ the child crowed, and everybody smiled as he clambered up on to the chair beside his grandmother. Shelby thought about her own mother, whose life revolved around gin and petty grievances. She had never apologized for urging Shelby to abort her child, and never showed any interest in being with her granddaughter. There was a time when Estelle’s indifference could still hurt her. Over the years, Shelby had hardened her heart against her mother. Her loss, Shelby thought. She had chosen the bottle over seeing her only grandchild grow up.

After dinner, Rob offered to take Jeremy to an ice cream store on Main Street while Chloe got packed. Shelby followed her daughter into her tiny bedroom and lay across the bed, resting on one elbow while Chloe dragged suitcases from the floor of the closet.

Watching her daughter carefully setting out piles of clothes, Shelby thought about how much needless worry she had expended on Chloe’s future. Instead of going away to college, Chloe took a course in medical recordkeeping, went to work, met an older man who was on the rebound, and ended up pregnant. Shelby feared that her daughter would end up alone with a baby, uneducated and destitute, just as she herself had been before she pulled herself out of it and made a success of her career.

Chloe insisted that her mother was wrong, and that her life would be completely different. Over the last five years Shelby had been forced to admit that she may indeed have been wrong. Chloe seemed to thrive at work and motherhood, and Shelby had come to think that Rob was a genuinely decent guy.

Chloe held a summery dress up to herself and looked into the full-length mirror, cocking her head and frowning. ‘I don’t know about yellow,’ she said. ‘I’m so pale. And these freckles . . .’

‘You look good in every color,’ said Shelby.

‘Oh Mom,’ Chloe sighed, folding the dress up and putting it to one side.

‘Did you buy any new clothes for the cruise?’ Shelby asked.

‘I don’t need new clothes,’ said Chloe.

‘I know. But I gave you that extra money so you could buy yourself a few pretty things.’

‘All I wear to work are scrubs,’ said Chloe. ‘Besides, I used it to fix our hot water heater.’

‘Oh honey,’ said Shelby. ‘You should have told me. I’d have given you more.’

‘You’ve given us enough, Mom,’ said Chloe. ‘I’m fine as I am.’

Shelby got up from the bed and put her arms around her daughter. They both looked into the full-length mirror. Shelby knew that she could still turn heads, but nothing could compare to the healthy perfection of youth, which Chloe had. Chloe needed no makeup or sleek clothes to enhance her beauty. ‘Of course you are. You are perfect as you are.’

Chloe met her mother’s eyes gravely in the mirror. ‘No, I’m not. I’m anything but perfect.’

‘You stop that,’ said Shelby. ‘You’re always so hard on yourself.’ She peered at her daughter’s somber expression. ‘Is there anything wrong, honey? You seem . . . a million miles away.’

‘I’m fine,’ said Chloe. ‘I’m . . . not used to traveling. I don’t want anything to spoil this, is all.’

‘What would spoil it?’ Shelby asked.

‘Nothing. I’ve just been looking forward to this. Being alone with Rob. Kind of like the honeymoon we never had.’

‘Well, I want you to enjoy this cruise, and not worry about anything. Nothing at all. Just enjoy the weather and the free time and forget everything else for a week. And Jeremy and I are going to have a great time. The week will fly by.’

Chloe’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I know I can count on you.’

Shelby had to struggle to fight back her own tears at this unexpected endorsement.

‘That’s right,’ she said, squeezing Chloe tighter for a moment before letting her go.

The next few days passed quickly. Shelby definitely noticed the difference in her energy level when it came to taking care of a toddler. It had been one thing when she was nineteen. It was a little bit more taxing at forty-two. After he was done with preschool, they would go to the library or the park or the playground, all of which were in walking distance of the house. She found a joy and peacefulness in this routine that she had never felt when Chloe was four years old.

When she looked back on those times now, it seemed that she was always in a hurry in those days. Shelby wondered if that rushing might have been the source of Chloe’s lifelong anxieties. In those days, Chloe always wanted one more push on the swing, and Shelby always had her eye on her watch, and a long list of things she needed to do on her mind. At the time, Chloe had seemed unbearably stubborn to Shelby, dragging her feet when she was ordered to hurry up and come along. Maybe, Shelby realized, she was just frustrated at the never-ending interruptions of her happiness.

Now, with only three days left until Chloe and Rob returned, she found herself savoring every moment with her grandson. As Shelby sat rocking back and forth on the swing set in the thin, April sunlight, Jeremy climbed up and slid down the slide repeatedly. Nothing else seemed to matter, to either one of them.

Shelby’s phone rang, and she glanced at the caller ID. She saw, with a sinking heart, that it was Talia calling. Not again, she thought. In some ways, she really felt sorry for her sister. Long ago, Shelby had decided to pour all her love and concern into her own daughter. But for Talia, her mother had remained the center of her universe, the organizing principle of her life. Now, Estelle Winter was slipping away, and Talia’s devotion seemed both futile and sad. But not sad enough that Shelby wanted to participate. Like their mother, Talia had shown zero interest in Chloe as she was growing up, and had never even commented on the birth of Jeremy. She has her concerns, I have mine, Shelby thought. She hesitated, and then let it ring. This time with Jeremy is precious and nothing’s going to spoil it. Talia can wait.

‘Shep, look at me. Look at me, Shep!’ Jeremy called out.

‘I saw you,’ Shelby called out. ‘That slide is fast.’

‘Really fast,’ he corrected her.

She smiled at him, tickled by his pride. ‘I know.’

‘Can I go again?’ he asked.

‘Go again,’ she said.

‘Watch me.’

‘I’m watching,’ she said.

When the sun was going down, and it grew too chilly to stay any longer, they walked home. Shelby made her grandson hot dogs and beans for supper, and watched cartoons with him until it was time for his bath. She read him his favorite stories and tucked him in with bunches of kisses. She tiptoed away from the door, and went downstairs to clean up the kitchen. Then, she remembered Talia’s call earlier. She knew she should at least call her sister back. She punched in Talia’s number at the lab.

‘Dr Winter’s office.’

‘Talia?’

‘No, this is Faith, her assistant.’

Shelby had spoken to Faith before. Faith was a grad student, well into her thirties, who kept the lab organized.

‘Oh, hi, Faith, is Talia there? This is her sister, Shelby.’

‘No, she has a tutorial tonight.’

‘Oh, sorry,’ Shelby said. ‘I don’t have her schedule.’

‘She’ll be back in about an hour. I can have her call you then.’

‘That’s all right. I’ll catch up with her another time,’ said Shelby. ‘Just tell her I called her back, OK?’

‘I will,’ Faith promised.

Shelby felt lighthearted when she hung up. She had not neglected to call her sister, but, at the same time, she didn’t have to talk to her. There was a part of Shelby that almost admired Talia’s fidelity to their mother. But she could never understand where it came from. And she definitely didn’t want to participate in it. Well, she had made the call, and now she needed to make no excuses for why she wanted to simply stay put, eating hot dogs and watching cartoons.

That night, Shelby decided to stay up late and watch an old Michael Caine spy movie. Since she had arrived at Chloe’s, she had made a point to go to bed early, partly because she needed enough rest to keep up with Jeremy, and partly because Chloe’s house seemed chilly and lonely once her grandchild was asleep for the night.

Shelby could have sat in the living room and watched the larger TV, but she decided to watch upstairs in Molly’s bedroom where she was staying. Chloe had often complained that Molly’s mother spoiled her, giving her anything she wanted since she’d married a wealthy doctor. Molly had her own television and a laptop computer in her room here in Chloe’s house. When Chloe was a teenager, Shelby had always insisted that Chloe work to earn such luxuries, and she understood her daughter’s dismay. But she had to admit to herself that it was kind of nice to be able to lie in bed and watch Molly’s television.

Shelby locked all the doors downstairs before taking her shower and checking on Jeremy, who had fallen asleep instantly. She showered, toweled her hair dry and combed it. Then, she donned her pajamas and robe and shuffled into the bedroom. Chloe had cleaned the room, put fresh new sheets on the bed, and made sure that everything was in its place. Chloe had apologized profusely for the teenage décor, but Shelby found it kind of amusing to be sleeping under posters of Miley Cyrus and the Jonas Brothers. She climbed on to the bedspread and pulled one of Chloe’s log-cabin style quilts over her. She set her cell phone on the night table, as she usually did, just to feel safe in the unfamiliar house. Then, she turned on Molly’s TV set and let herself be absorbed by the movie. At some point, the rigors of the day overcame her, and, without quite knowing it, Shelby nodded off to sleep.

The ring of her cell phone at her elbow awakened her with a start. She was chilly. The quilt had slipped off into a heap on to the floor beside the bed. The early morning local news was on the television. How long have I been asleep, Shelby wondered, feeling disoriented? Through the tree branches outside the bedroom window, Shelby could see that the sky was pewter gray, with streaks of shell pink.

She looked at her watch. Six ten a.m. She picked up her phone and squinted at it. The number was unfamiliar. ‘Hello?’ she asked warily.

There was a moment’s silence. Then a voice said, ‘Shelby, it’s Rob.’

‘Rob!’ She was instantly alarmed at the sound of his voice. It was Chloe who usually called.

‘Something . . . has happened. I don’t know . . .’ A loud droning sound drowned out his voice.

Shelby’s heart started to pound. ‘Rob, I can’t hear you. What’s the matter?’ she demanded.

Rob sighed. ‘I thought you should know . . . Listen, something terrible has happened.’

Shelby could barely squeak out the next word. ‘What? What is it?’

‘We’ve turned around . . . we’re headed back to St Thomas.’

‘Who’s headed to St Thomas? Who’s we? Where is Chloe? Put Chloe on. I want to talk to her.’

‘That’s just it,’ said Rob dully. Shelby gripped the phone tightly, instantly angry and impatient with her son-in-law’s vagueness. ‘What do you mean? That’s just what?’ she demanded sharply.

For a moment he was silent, and Shelby felt her fury rising, mushrooming, filling her chest, squeezing her lungs, crushing her heart. It was easy to be angry. Easier than to acknowledge the fear that was trickling, like a tiny stream of melting ice, down her back. ‘What, Rob?’

‘Chloe is . . . missing.’