“Oh no,” Suzette says, “this stuff is waterproof. You could swim all day, and you will still have SPF 200 protection.”

Enzo’s eyes widen. “Yeah?”

I am so sick of hearing about this stupid sunscreen.

“Ada,” Suzette says. “Would you like to try this sunscreen?”

Ada looks down at the tube but then shakes her head. I don’t blame her. She never burns, like Enzo, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to smear that white cream all over herself.

“Nico?” Suzette asks.

Nico just stares at Suzette. He doesn’t answer, but he gives her this really cold look. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him look at someone that way before, and the truth is, it sends a chill down my spine. But then he looks away, and I’m not sure if I imagined the whole thing.

The kids want to go in the water, and Enzo is happy to take them. I would have thought Suzette would be the kind of person who would want to sunbathe on the beach all afternoon, especially after the fuss she kicked up about where we were going to park ourselves. But as soon as Enzo says he wants to go in the water, she quickly agrees to follow.

“You want to come, Millie?” Enzo asked me.

I shake my head. “I’m just going to relax over here.”

Jonathan rubs at a glob of sunscreen that is still intact on the bridge of his nose. He starts to follow Suzette, but before he can take more than a couple of steps, she turns to look at him. “No,” she says. “You stay here. I’m going for a swim.”

He nods and, without question, turns around to go back to his beach chair. He settles down and picks up a paperback. I crane my neck to look at the title. Madame Bovary.

“You don’t want to go for a swim?” I ask him.

He waves a hand. “Not really.”

“Because it looked like you were going to go in the water before Suzette told you not to.”

“I don’t mind.”

Maybe he doesn’t mind, but I find Suzette’s bossiness infuriating, and before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “It just seems like it shouldn’t be Suzette’s decision whether you go swimming or not.”

Jonathan shrugs and smiles. “She likes to have her space sometimes. I don’t mind, like I said.”

I’ve asked around, and it turns out Suzette isn’t that successful as a real estate agent. Yet she has the biggest house by far in our cul-de-sac, in a town where housing prices are very high. Clearly, Jonathan is the one making all the money to support her lifestyle. Yet she’s the one who gets to boss him around. I mean, he isn’t even allowed to go in the water at the beach? That’s nuts.

“It’s a huge body of water,” I point out. “It’s the Atlantic Ocean. It seems like both of you could swim in it without bothering each other.”

He rests his book down on his lap. “Do you want to go swimming, Millie?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

Jonathan looks at me blankly. Does he really not care at all how much Suzette bosses him around? I’d like to think that Enzo and I are equal partners in all our decision making, but from what I’ve noticed, it seems like Suzette is making every important decision in the Lowell household.

Then again, Enzo did take $1,000 out of our joint bank account without telling me. But he’s already put the money back. I’m sure he was telling the truth that it was for equipment for his business. Like, ninety-nine percent sure.

The clear blue water is glistening under the sun. Both my kids are strong swimmers like Enzo—he used to take them to the YMCA when they were little, and he taught them both to swim before they could walk. I take stock of both of their dark heads bobbing in the water. Ada is near Enzo, and then Nico is a bit away from them and he’s…

Huh. Why does it look like he’s talking to Suzette?

What could Nico possibly have to say to Suzette? It seems strange, especially after that seething look he gave her earlier. I wish I knew what they were talking about, but I’m not anywhere close to being in earshot.

“Anyway,” Jonathan is saying, “we’re not leaving any time soon. I can swim later. This sunscreen will last for hours. Days, actually, if I needed it to.”

I manage to tear my gaze away from the water. “Does it really?”

“Oh yes, it’s great stuff.” He digs into Suzette’s tote and pulls out the tube. “Do you want some?”

“Sure,” I say.

Jonathan hands it over to me. He doesn’t try to rub it into my back and shoulders, which is very appropriate, given he’s not my boyfriend or husband. It looks like a pretty ordinary tube of sunscreen, although I have to admit, it smells nice.

I’m about to squeeze some of this magical sunscreen onto my palm when I get interrupted by a sound coming from the direction of the ocean.

Someone is screaming.

THIRTY-EIGHT

It all happens so fast. Drowning is quick.

There is a huge commotion out in the ocean, but I can’t see much. I leap to my feet, and Jonathan does the same next to me. Whatever is happening is happening right where I saw my children swimming just a short time ago. The lifeguard has climbed down from his perch and is running for the shore, but it turns out he’s too late.

Enzo is already coming out of the water holding her.

Suzette turns out to be the person who was almost drowning. She’s clinging to Enzo’s neck as he heroically carries her out of the water. She is still conscious, although her face is pink and she’s coughing. As much as I would like to accuse her of fake drowning, she looks like she’s in real distress.

Enzo lays her down on the sand and gets on his knees beside her. The lifeguard crouches next to her too, but Suzette’s attention is solely on my husband.

“You okay?” Enzo asks her.

“Yes,” she gasps, then starts coughing again. “That was just… It was so scary. I’m okay though.” She reaches for my husband’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you for saving me. You’re my hero.”

Oh, brother.

I look over at Jonathan, who does not seem the slightest bit bothered that an incredibly sexy Italian man is hovering over his wife, and she is pretty much drooling over him. Or maybe the drooling is from the near drowning.

“You sure you’re okay, miss?” the lifeguard asks her.

“I’m fine.” She manages to prop herself up on her elbows. “It just felt like my leg got tangled in something, and it was pulling me under. It was… terrifying.”

“Maybe some seaweed,” the lifeguard suggests.

“Yes,” Suzette says, although she doesn’t look convinced. I agree that it’s not clear how seaweed could pull someone under the water, but I’m not sure what another explanation could be.

Ada and Nico have come out of the water, looking decidedly shaken by the incident. Ada is hugging herself, and Nico has planted himself at the shore, about ten feet away from us, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Suzette, dear,” Jonathan says, “I think it would be best if we got you home.”