Dear Priscilla Bennett Friends,

On Saturday, Harry and I went sailing in the harbor with a friend of his who has a Daysailer. What a beautiful day to sail and there was a terrific breeze filling the sail and pushing us along. My father taught me how to sail a sunfish when I was a kid, and it brought back great memories of the wind and salted spray in my face, holding the tiller fast, pulling the sail in then letting it out in a whoosh—even capsizing and then righting the boat was an indelible learning experience—nature was all powerful. “Stand on the rudder,” my father would yell. “It’ll bring the boat up.” Back then I could jump in and out of the boat hands-free without a care. Now, it’s a bit different with the balance and stiffness. Harry and I held onto each other until we were well-seated.

In my novel, Gillian taught Katie to sail as a child in Nantucket, and Claude uses Katie’s attachment to her memories of sailing and Gillian to buy a summer house there where her parents are connected with the clubs, and Claude can move up the social ladder. Whenever Katie wants to find herself, renew her spirits or just have peace and escape her monster husband, she goes to the house and remembers her sailing days, yearning to return to them. Gillian and Katie talk about sailing together again, but Gillian’s schedule is so demanding, there never seems to be enough time to arrange it. The memory is enough to comfort Katie, and she introduces her daughter, Rose, to sailing and passes the tradition on, looking forward to the day when they will take a sail together.

Take good care of yourselves,