“Dad,” Ayers says. “Don’t tease.”

“Who’s teasing?” Phil says. “I’ll be by to see you in the morning.”

“Free breakfast with mimosas,” Baker says. “And a hundred-dollar resort credit.”

“Hear that, gorgeous?” Phil says to Sunny. “She loves free stuff. We got a discount on our room at Caneel because she told them she’s a travel blogger.”

“We should ask Baker some questions,” Sunny says. “We know nothing about you. Freddy told us the two of you are just casual acquaintances.”

“Mom!” Ayers says.

“Freddy?” Baker says.

“That’s my daughter’s nickname,” Phil says. “Short for ‘Ready, Freddy,’ which was something she used to say often as a child. I can’t believe you don’t even know her nickname.”

“Nobody knows my nickname,” Ayers says. “No. Body.”

Baker is still holding the chips and the smoothie, which is turning his hand numb. He’s afraid to make himself any more comfortable until he’s invited to do so. “Well, I grew up in Iowa City, went to Northwestern, graduated with a business degree, worked on the commodities exchange in Chicago for a few years, and then my soon-to-be-ex-wife, Anna Schaffer, got a job offer in Houston. She’s a cardiothoracic surgeon.”

“A cardiothoracic surgeon?” Sunny says. “That’s impressive!”

Yes, yes, story of Baker’s life—the most impressive thing about him is his wife’s career. “We’re in the process of getting a divorce,” Baker says. “She fell in love with a coworker of hers, a doctor named Louisa Rodriguez”—Baker glances at Ayers’s parents; they seem unfazed by this—“and I have custody of our son, Floyd, who’s four.”

“We’d like to meet Floyd!” Phil says.

“Another time,” Ayers says. She checks her phone, which is sitting in front of her on the coffee table, and what can Baker think but that he’s overstaying his welcome.

“My brother, Cash, and my mother, Irene, are also living with me right now,” Baker says. He takes a breath. He has to put down the smoothie. “Here.” He sets it down in front of Ayers. “I brought you this. It’s pineapple-mango. Your favorite.”

“My favorite after pineapple-banana,” she says. Baker deflates and hands over the chips without adding that he made a special trip to Sam and Jack’s for them.

“You don’t know her nickname or her favorite smoothie?” Phil says. “I can see we still have some work to do.”

“Please stop, Dad,” Ayers says.

“It was very thoughtful of you to bring these,” Sunny says, opening the chips and helping herself to one. “How interesting that you live with your family of origin.”

“Yes, well…” Baker says. He glances at Ayers. Has she not explained any of his situation to her parents? “My father died in a helicopter crash on the first of the year…”

“So did Rosie,” Phil says.

“We adored Rosie,” Sunny says.

“Was the fella she was with…your father?” Phil asks.

“Yes,” Baker says. Ayers is staring at her own crossed legs. Why didn’t she give her parents the thorny background? “And so my mother and brother and I all flew down here to figure out what was going on.”

“What was going on?” Phil asks.

“Well, we learned about his relationship with Rosie…”

“Had your mother suspected anything?” Sunny asks.

Baker can’t believe he’s being put on the spot like this. But it’s refreshing, in a way, to answer questions that everyone must be asking in his or her head. “She had no idea,” Baker says. “It came as a complete shock. Jaw-dropping. For days I think we all believed there’d been a mistake, that it was a different Russell Steele. But then, yeah, we accepted it was my dad. He owned a giant hilltop villa that we knew nothing about. He had a whole life. A second life.”

“You’ll forgive me for saying so,” Phil says, “but it seems unusual that you stayed on the island where your father had a second family.”

“Dad!” Ayers says.

“It wasn’t our plan to stay,” Baker says. “Each of us ended up back here for his or her own reasons. I can only speak for myself. I was living in Houston, my marriage fell apart, my almost-ex-wife took a job at the Cleveland Clinic—”

“Impressive!” Sunny says.

“—and I met Ayers. I decided I wanted to try to make our relationship work.” He can see the warning in Ayers’s eyes but he ignores it. “I came down here without knowing about the baby. But I’m excited—no, thrilled about the news, and I plan to be a hands-on father, just like I am with Floyd.”

“Well,” Sunny says, “I’m overcome. What a beautiful thing to say.”

“We ended up losing my father’s villa a few weeks ago,” Baker says. He clears his throat. “There was tax trouble. Legal trouble. And that was a hurdle for all of us—my mother, brother, and me—because we had all planned on living there. It was…spacious.”

“Um, yeah,” Ayers says.

“It’s almost better that we aren’t at the villa anymore.” Baker realizes these words are true only as he’s saying them. “It was…tainted. Don’t get me wrong, it was luxurious, the wow factor was high, but I think that masked the truth, which was that we didn’t belong there. I’ve rented the place right across the street from here, and although it’s a tight fit right now, I’m confident my mom and brother will find their own spaces in time.”

“Across the street from here!” Sunny says. “How convenient.”

Phil leads Baker to the door. “You’ve made a very fine first impression, Baker Steele.”

Baker raises his eyebrows at Ayers. Your parents like me! Ayers whistles, and Winnie lifts her head, jumps off the bed, and joins Ayers on the couch.

“We must arrange a dinner with your mom and brother,” Sunny says. “A family affair! But we can’t do it tonight because we’re taking Freddy and Michael out.”

“To the beach bar at Caneel,” Phil says. “Supposedly, they have decent sushi.”

“We spent nine months traveling through Japan in the early aughts,” Sunny says. “And do you want to know where we found the best sushi?”

“Gate thirty-five at Narita Airport,” Phil says. “The tuna special. I dream about it.”

Baker is still trying to figure out who “Freddy and Michael” are. Friends of theirs? A gay couple? Then he remembers that Ayers is Freddy. But who’s Michael? “Who’s Michael?” he asks.

“Mick,” Phil says. “We’re taking out Ayers and Mick.”

“‘Mick’ makes him sound like an Irish hoodlum or a horny rock star,” Sunny says. “I prefer to call him by his given name.”

Ayers rubs Winnie’s head. Is she even listening to this conversation?

“You’re taking out Ayers and Mick?” Baker says.