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“You’re leaving again soon, aren’t you?”

I nod.

“Nantucket. End of the month.”

“The Pembroke thing?”

“Yes.”

She remembers enough from previous conversations that I don’t need to explain it again.

“I hate leaving them again so soon,” I say.

“London was already longer than I expected.”

Erica glances toward the boys.

“Then don’t.”

I look at her.

“I have to go.”

“I didn’t say cancel.”

I wait.

“Bring them,” she suggests.

I almost laugh.

“To a private collection gathering?”

“No,” Erica says. “To Nantucket.”

I stare at her. She gestures toward the boys.

“They’ll be out of school by then, right?”

“Yes.”

“So bring them with you.”

“I can’t take Wells and Miles into private collection meetings,” I say.

“You won’t have to.”

I narrow my eyes. Erica smiles.

“I’ll come.”

“What?”

“I’ll come with you,” she says.

“You do your art thing. I stay with the boys when you’re working. Everyone wins.”

“Erica.”