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“Yes,” Norah says. “For my truck. I’ve been in Boston. I tried to reach you…”

I deleted all your messages, Jennifer thinks.

“If we could take your spot…” Jennifer says.

“It’s happening,” Norah says. “Let’s go switch right now with my buddy Walter.”

“Your buddy Walter,” Jennifer says.

Walter switches the tickets in a matter of seconds. Jennifer is now on the boat that’s about to depart and Norah, using Jennifer’s ticket, will be on the nine o’clock the next morning.

Walter says, “Told you, sweetheart. Things like this usually work out. Have a merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Walter,” Jennifer says. She turns to Norah. “I don’t know how to thank you for this. You are… saving the day. And I mean really saving it. Not just for me-for the whole family.”

“Tell Kevin I said congratulations,” Norah says. “Sincerely. I want him to be happy.”

“I’ll do that,” Jennifer says.

“And that thing I wanted to talk to you about?” Norah says.

“Yes?” Jennifer says. Her stomach tenses as if a punch is coming.

“I’m applying to business schools,” Norah says. “I want to go legit, start something real. But I’d like to get an MBA. I was hoping you would write me a letter of recommendation.”

Jennifer laughs. A letter of recommendation? That is what Norah wanted this whole time? A letter of recommendation for business school?

“I understand if you don’t want to…” Norah says.

“Of course I want to!” Jennifer says. “I’d be happy to. I just… well, I thought you wanted to talk about… I don’t know… the stuff we were into before.”

“I’m finished with all that,” Norah says. “Moving onward and upward. But the letter is due January first, so I’ll need it next week.”

“Consider it done,” Jennifer says. She hugs Norah and kisses her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Norah, and thank you.”

She hurries out the door with her new ticket and waves at her family. They have a boat to catch.

CHRISTMAS EVE

KEVIN

Later, he will not be able to say how the Siasconset Union Chapel was decorated. (There was an evergreen wreath with a red velvet bow hanging from the end of each pew and, on the altar, two majestic arrangements of red roses, greens, and holly.) He will not remember what music was played. (The church organ was accompanied by cello and trumpet. The Quinns’ new friend Gordon Russell sang “O Holy Night” after the vows.) He will not remember what the bridesmaids wore (long red velvet sheaths, slit to the knee) or whether the bow ties were straight or cockeyed on his brothers’ tuxedos (Patrick’s tie was straight, Bart’s cockeyed).

All Kevin will remember is the moment the guests rose and he saw Isabelle Beaulieu standing at the other end of the aisle on the arm of her father, the rather dashing Arnaud Beaulieu. As recently as yesterday, Kevin might have said a wedding was superfluous. He and Isabelle already knew everything about each other; what did a piece of paper matter?

But as she processed toward him wearing a strapless column dress of the whitest silk with a long lace veil, her hair a crown of blond braids, her eyes dewy, her smile shy, it was as though he were seeing her for the first time. He got a lump in his throat.

What in his life had he done to deserve such an enchanting creature? How did he, Kevin Quinn, the middle brother, without the ambition of the older or the bravery of the younger, get so lucky? He had no idea, but he was grateful.

AVA

The wedding is storybook perfect. Sure, the chapel is chilly, but as soon as it fills with people, it warms up. Nathaniel, Ava notices as she starts down the aisle, must have been the last to arrive, or maybe he intentionally chose the back pew so that he would be the first person Ava saw when she processed in. She focuses on her three handsome brothers standing at the altar.

Bart is the tallest of the three, thanks to the genes from Mitzi’s father, Joe, who was six foot five. Seeing the three of them standing together registers as completely natural, but it’s also surreal. Bart is here. He’s right here.

Sitting three rows from the front are Potter and Gibby. Ava saves her best smile for them.

When the ceremony is over and all of the pictures have been taken, Kevin and Isabelle climb into the fire truck with George-who has done a quick change from his coat and tie into his Santa suit-and all the guests cheer and wave. George honks the horn and off they go, husband and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Quinn.

Meanwhile, the inn has been transformed. All of the furniture was moved from the living room to create an open space for mingling that will later serve as a dance floor. Mitzi hired the Four Easy Payments to play, but right now, there is Christmas music piped in. The playlist is a variety of carols rather than just “Joy to the World.”

The caterers have laid out a serious spread of cheese and crackers, crudités and dip, sausages and pâtés. Mitzi asked them to make her infamous sugared dates stuffed with peanut butter and, yes, the salted almond pinecone.

Ava and Bart meet in front of the pinecone. Bart scoops up an obscene amount of soft cheese and nuts on a cracker. It’s fine, Ava thinks. He needs to fatten up.

She wants to have a real conversation with him. She wants to ask him what happened, what it was like, how he felt, how he survived. But this isn’t the time or the place. This is the time to take a flute of champagne from the server’s tray and sing along to “Mistletoe and Holly” with Frank Sinatra.

And apparently, it’s also the time to set the record straight once and for all. Because when Ava turns around looking for where Potter has gotten to, she sees Nathaniel headed toward her with some kind of cranberry martini in his hand. He has someone trailing him. It’s Scott, who is wearing red corduroy pants embroidered with Santa faces, a white shirt, a black wool blazer, and a red-and-green-tartan bow tie.

“I’ve brought reinforcements,” Nathaniel says. He kisses Ava on the cheek. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Stunning,” Scott says.

Ava glares at Scott. “Where’s Mz. Ohhhhhh?”

“She’s moving to Newport Beach,” he says. “California.”

“We came to tell you we don’t want you to move to New York,” Nathaniel says. “Stay here on Nantucket or come to Block Island. Choose one of us.”

Ava feels a hand slip around her waist and she knows it’s Potter. She has called in her own reinforcements.

“It’s probably good the three of you are here,” Ava says. “So all three of you can hear me say this. I am moving to New York to run the music department at the Copper Hill School. That is my reason for moving. But as far as my love life is concerned…” Here, she pauses. Nathaniel and Scott have been so dear to her. She has loved them both for different reasons: Nathaniel is fun-loving and laid-back; Scott is solid and kind with a streak of mischief that appears every once in a while. But neither of them was able to capture Ava’s entire heart as Potter has managed to do.

“As far as my love life is concerned, there is only one man I want and that is this man right here, Potter Lyons. So I hope I can keep the two of you as friends and see you when I come home for the summer, but I will never date either of you again and I’m asking you both to respect that.”

Nathaniel looks angry; Scott looks morose. Potter lifts Ava’s face and-adding insult to injury for the two men-gives Ava the loveliest kiss, possibly of her life. She feels clean and free and honest and empowered. She has come to a decision that makes her feel, well-Ava’s eyes linger on the word hanging over the mantel-joy.

The Four Easy Payments have set up over by the Christmas tree and now they launch into “Little Saint Nick,” by the Beach Boys. Nathaniel is the first to reach over and shake Potter’s hand. Scott follows suit and says, “Take good care of her, man.”