She looked thoughtful for a moment before she answered. “I was thinking it might be nice to go to the Cape. I’d like you to see the house. It’s very simple, but it’s a relic of my childhood. That house means a lot to me.” He smiled as soon as she said it.

“I was hoping you’d ask me up there,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Why don’t we spend more than a weekend there, if you can spare the time? It might do us both good.” He was in no hurry to go back to Ireland. They were both masters of their own fate and time, and he was enjoying the time he was spending with her, getting to know her. And he was in no hurry to get back to his writing, he said. She was more important to him.

“I guess we could spend four or five days, or even a week. It can get very bleak in winter, and cold. Let’s see how the weather is when we get there.” He nodded and agreed.

“When do you want to go?” he asked, looking excited. She had no pressing assignments at the moment. Her schedule was clear, and so was his, other than the editing he had to finish. They were going to a party at the MOMA that night, and he had a publishing event to attend the following week. They were both enjoying discovering each other’s worlds, and in each case, they left the limelight to the other and were happy to take a backseat. It seemed like a perfect balance between two well-known, successful, creative people, whose worlds complemented each other. It was just what she had said earlier, they stood beside each other, without having to fuse into one person. Everything about that idea seemed wrong to her.

“Why don’t we go to the Cape tomorrow?” Hope suggested. “Bring lots of warm stuff with you.” And then she looked faintly embarrassed to broach a delicate subject, but she wanted to speak up clearly. “I’m not ready for us to sleep together, Finn. Are you okay with sleeping in the guest room?” It had been a long time since Paul, and she wanted to be sure of what she was doing. There had been no one of importance in her life since her husband, which made this a much bigger deal. Whatever it was, if it was going to be lasting or not, she had to figure it out, and what she felt about it, before she took that leap.

“That’s fine,” he said with an understanding look. He seemed to have an unlimited ability to make her feel comfortable and happy. He let her set the pace, be as close or as distant from him as she felt at any given moment. He was the kindest, most loving man she had ever met. He was truly a dream come true. And if she had been praying for a man to come into her life, which she wasn’t when he turned up, he would have been the answer to those prayers. There was nothing about him she didn’t like so far, or that made her uneasy, except perhaps his silly ideas about fusion, but she was sure it was just his way of expressing insecurities and wanting to be loved. And she was coming to love him, for who he was, not for being a part of her. Hope was a very independent person, and she hadn’t come through all she had by being part of someone else, nor did she want to start now. And she knew that her monks in Tibet wouldn’t have approved of that idea at all.

The party they went to at the museum that night was lively and crowded. It was an important event-the opening of a major show. The main curator of the museum came to talk to her and she introduced him to Finn. They chatted for a few minutes, and several photographers snapped their picture for the press. They made a striking pair. It was definitely a milieu where Hope was the star, and Finn was less well known, until they heard his name. But being somewhat in the background didn’t seem to bother him in the least. He was warm, friendly, charming, and unassuming, even though he was the famous Sir Finn O’Neill. No one who would have seen him would have thought he was a show-off, or arrogant in any way. He was more than happy to let Hope be the star she was at the museum event, and he seemed to enjoy talking to lots of people and admiring the art. He was in good spirits when they took a cab back to the hotel. They were leaving for Cape Cod in the morning.

“I miss you when we’re in a crowd like that,” he confessed as she snuggled next to him in the taxi. She had had a good time, and had been proud to be with him. It felt so good being part of a couple again. She didn’t need it to complete her, but it was nice having him there, and talking to him about the party afterward. She had missed that since her divorce. Parties were always more fun if you could gossip about them later with a mate. “You looked beautiful,” he complimented her readily, as he had several times that evening. “And I was so proud to be with you. I really enjoyed the evening, but I have to admit, I love having you to myself. It’s going to be great to have some time alone in Cape Cod.”

“Having both in one’s life is nice,” Hope commented peacefully with her head on his shoulder. “It’s exciting to go out and meet people sometimes, and then it’s nice to have quiet time alone.”

“I hate sharing you with your adoring public,” he teased her. “I like it best when we’re alone. Everything is so fresh and new right now, it feels like an intrusion when anyone else is around.” The way he said it flattered her, that he was so anxious for time with her, but there were definitely times when she enjoyed the company of her peers and colleagues, and once in a while, even their admiration. For her, it had been part of life ever since she’d gone back to work, although she always benefited from solitary moments too. But it touched her that Finn was so anxious to be with her, and to not waste a single moment they could spend alone. They would have plenty of time together at the Cape.

“You have your adoring public too,” she reminded him, and he hung his head in embarrassment in a burst of humility rarely seen and that no one would have expected of him. It surprised her at times that for a man so well known in his field, and so strikingly good looking, he didn’t seem narcissistic to her at all. He wasn’t selfish or self-centered, he took pride in her accomplishments, was discreet about his own, and had no need to be the center of attention. And whatever flaws he had that she had not discovered yet, a big ego was not among them. He was a gem.

They left for Cape Cod at nine o’clock the next morning, in a Suburban he had rented for the week, since Hope no longer kept a car in New York. Whenever she needed one, she rented one herself. Living in the city, it made more sense, and she didn’t go up to Cape Cod very often anymore. She hadn’t been there since September, four months before. She was thrilled to be going with Finn now, and have the opportunity to share it with him. For a man who loved nature, solitude, and time alone with her, it was the perfect place for them to go.

She was determined not to sleep with him that weekend, and already knew what guest room she would put him in. It was actually the room she had spent summers in as a child, and it was next door to her parents’ old room, which she lived in now and had for years.

She and Paul had spent summers there during most of their marriage. And at the time, the simplicity of it had suited them both, although with the windfall he had made from the sale of his company, Paul’s life was grander now. And if anything, Hope’s had gotten less cluttered over the years. She had no need for luxuries, unusual comforts, or excess of any kind. She was a very unassuming, straightforward person, and enjoyed a simple life. And Finn said he did too.

They stopped for lunch at the Griswold Inn, in Essex, Connecticut, on the way to the Cape, and as they drove past an exit for Boston, Finn mentioned his son at MIT.

“Why don’t we stop and visit him?” Hope asked with a bright smile. After all she’d heard about him, she wanted to meet him, and Finn laughed.

“He’d probably fall over if I stopped in to see him. Actually, they’re not back yet after the winter break. He said he was going to Paris after skiing in Switzerland with his friends, or he may be back at my place in London. Maybe we could stop in to visit some other time. I’d like you to meet him.”

“So would I,” Hope said warmly.

They drove on to Wellfleet after Providence and they reached the house at four in the afternoon, as the light was starting to get dim. The roads had been clear, but it looked like it might snow, and it was bitter cold, with a stiff wind. She directed Finn to drive into the driveway, which was slightly overgrown. The house stood apart from all the others, and there was tall dune grass all around. It seemed bleak at that time of year, and Finn commented that it looked like a Wyeth painting that they’d seen at the museum, which made Hope smile. She’d never thought of the house that way before, but he was right, it did. It was an old barn-shaped New England structure, painted gray with white shutters. In summer, there were flowers out front, but there were none now. The gardener she hired to come once a month cut everything back in winter, and he wouldn’t even bother to come now until spring. There was nothing for him to do there. And the house looked sad and deserted with the shutters closed. But the view of the ocean from the dune it sat on was spectacular and the beach stretched out for miles. Hope smiled as she stood looking at it with him. It always made her feel peaceful being there. She put an arm around his waist and he leaned down to kiss her, and then she took her keys out of her bag, opened the door, turned off the alarm, and walked in, with Finn right behind her. The shutters were closed against the wind, so she turned on the lights. Dusk was coming fast.

What he saw when she lit the lamps was a beautiful wood-paneled room. The wood was bleached, as were the floors, and the furniture was stark and simple. She had redone the couches a few years before because they were so worn. The fabrics were the pale blue of a summer sky, the curtains were a simple muslin, there were hooked rugs, plain New England furniture, a stone fireplace, and her photographs were all over the walls. It had a stark simplicity and unpretentiousness that made it easy to be there, particularly in the summer, with the breeze coming off the ocean, sand on the floor, and everyone going barefoot. It was the perfect beach house, and Finn immediately responded to it with a warm smile. It was the kind of house every child should spend a summer in, and Hope had, and so had her daughter. There was a big country kitchen, with a round antique table, and blue and white tiles on the walls that had been there since the house was built. The place looked lived in and well worn, and more important, much loved.

“What a wonderful place,” Finn said, as he put his arms around her and kissed her.

“I’m glad you like it,” Hope said, looking happy. “I would have been sad if you didn’t.” They went outside together then to open the shutters, and when they came back in, the view of Cape Cod Bay at sunset was spectacular. He wanted to go for a walk on the beach, but it was too late and too cold.

They had brought groceries with them, which they had bought in Wellfleet, and unpacked them together. It felt like playing house and she looked happy. She hadn’t done that in years, and with Finn, she loved it. Then he went out to get their suitcases and she told him where to put them. He walked upstairs to their bedrooms, set them down, and looked around. Hope’s photos hung in every room, and there were a lot of old photographs of her with her parents, and Mimi with her and Paul. It was a real family summer home that spanned generations and warmed hearts.

“I wish I had had a house like this when I was growing up,” Finn said as he strode back into the kitchen, his hair still disheveled by the wind, which only made him look more handsome. “My parents had a very stuffy, boring place in Southampton, which I never liked. It was full of antiques and things I wasn’t allowed to touch. It wasn’t like being at the beach. This is the real deal.”

“Yes, it is.” She smiled at him. “I love that about it too. That’s why I keep it. I don’t get here often enough anymore, but I love it when I do.” There were too many memories and friendly ghosts here for her to ever give it up. “It’s not fancy, but that’s what I love about it. It’s fantastic in the summer. As a kid, I spent all my time on the beach, and so did Mimi. I still do.”

She was making a salad as she said it to him, and they were going to make steaks on the grill. The kitchen appliances were modern and functional, and often in summer they barbecued, but it was too cold to do that now. Finn set the table, and lit a fire. And a little while later, he made the steaks, and she warmed some soup and French bread they’d bought at the store. They set some French cheeses on a platter, and when they sat down at the kitchen table, it was a hearty meal. Finn opened a bottle of red wine he’d bought, and they each had a glass. It was a perfect dinner in the cozy house, and then they sat in front of the fire, telling stories of their respective childhoods.