The second grouping of chapters in the novel heightens the tensions in the first. Patterns are broken and estrangement increases throughout this section, although there is a smattering of hope for new beginnings.

There is increasing evidence that Love’s quest to have a child, which seems to pick up steam when she meets Arthur Beebe, is less about a desire for motherhood per se than it is about The Long-Term Impact of Emotional Voids. For one, Love is ambivalent about Arthur in a way that suggests she is not simply looking for someone who can impregnate her. She notes that she feels “both flattered and uncomfortable” by Arthur’s attention (78); Arthur acts as if he’s entitled to a relationship with Love in a way she finds off-putting, and while Love can imagine sex with Arthur as “charged, delicious, secret” (89), she also recognizes the liaison as potentially “[f]oolish, irresponsible, not to mention immoral” (89). Further, Vance warns her that Arthur’s ill-defined job may involve something illegal. His skipping out on the bill and leaving a gun behind suggest that Vance’s assessment is correct, yet Love isn’t “relieved [when] Arthur [leaves]” (93). Her mixed feelings affirm that she is searching for connection, not procreation. Love’s attraction to Arthur is not just about sex; she likes that he makes her feel attractive and wanted. This underlying desire bodes well for Vance, who befriends Love in this section. Vance’s ability to see Arthur for who he is helps Love to trust him when they embark on their own relationship.

Love and Vance are not the only people who connect unexpectedly in a section that emphasizes The Importance of Chance Encounters. Jem makes several errors on the job that exacerbate his low self-esteem, making him want to “run for the safety of his rented room, lock the door, jump into his bed and hide under the covers” (95). Feeling like he’s moving backward, he finds an ally in Maribel. An outing at the beach confirms a sexual attraction between the pair but also reveals their compatibility as friends: Their connection develops because they talk honestly and tenderly. When Maribel reacts with sympathy to his explanation about his work struggles, Jem realizes that “it had been [his] best day on Nantucket by leaps and bounds—good enough to wipe away all the nonsense that had preceded it” (108). Maribel makes him see the best in things, including himself, which gives him hope. Later, he tells Maribel that their outing “changed [his] whole view of the island. Before that day, [he] hated it here. But after that day, things got a lot better. It was weird, the way that happened, like [she] had magic powers” (146). Meanwhile, Maribel finds connecting with Jem different than being with Mack, especially after he asks her to come with him to California: “How refreshing, a man who’s not afraid to admit he’s nervous, not afraid of being a work in progress, not afraid to commit” (146). This shows her what she really would like in a relationship, although she’s not ready to act on it.

Vance’s struggles with his self-worth lack a mitigating force like Maribel. When Mack teases Vance in front of two temporary hires, Vance’s underlying rage against Mack boils over. For years, Vance has been upset about their respective positions at the hotel, and he takes Mack’s words as the ultimate sign of disrespect and nearly responds with violence, reaching for Arthur’s gun. Vance’s feelings of anger are so powerful that when he sees Mack in Andrea Krane’s hotel room, he takes it as an opportunity for confrontation. He holds Mack at gunpoint and lashes out, articulating his resentment to a surprised Mack: “You step off that boat thirty seconds sooner than I do and all of a sudden you’re the white prince and you assume everyone loves you” (139). While the novel does not condone this violence, it creates a crisis that forces both men forward, developing the theme of Finding One’s Way Through Grief and Anger.

In particular, Vance’s actions—e.g., his criticism of Mack’s treatment of Maribel—propel Mack to consider his relationships with both Maribel and Andrea. He even shows gratitude for the intervention, realizing, “Vance was just a manifestation of [his] own conscience, like something out of Shakespeare” (155)—a passage that also draws attention to the episode’s narrative function. Ultimately, Mack is forced to consider whether he is using Andrea to avoid committing to Maribel. When Maribel orders him out, and Andrea dismisses their relationship as a summer fling, Mack is thrown further into limbo. He has been relying on both women to create a feeling of belonging, but the novel implies that he must decide more proactively whom and what he belongs to. During this time of rejection, the Island whispers that Mack is “Home,” but he still isn’t ready to fully listen.

Cecily is also having trouble believing that Nantucket is her home, largely because she is torn between her love for Gabriel, which feels like “a herd of wild horses galloping out of control” (169), and her love for her parents, which is “a nagging toothache, impossible to ignore and forget” (169). The metaphors contrast the excitement of romantic passion with the sense of duty that familial relationships often entail, illustrating the nature of the conflict she feels. Her parents’ overprotectiveness, which stems partly from lingering trauma over W. T.’s death, exacerbates the situation. Bill, in particular, fails to see the potential harm of clinging too tightly. When Cecily asserts her desire to pursue Gabriel, Bill tells her she can’t go because he himself is “counting on [her] taking over the hotel […] being a part of this family comes with responsibility” (172). Cecily’s response widens the rift, as she suggests that the Elliotts should’ve had more children, deepening Bill and Therese’s grief over W. T. and once again prompting them to react with overprotectiveness: They tell Cecily that she can’t go anywhere since she is a “child.” The exchange illustrates how unresolved grief, coupled with secrecy, can breed resentment and unhealthy family dynamics.

As is common in Hilderbrand’s novels, these interpersonal dynamics are not isolated but rather bump up against other unfolding dramas. Mack, in an effort to find “the answer to the chaos in his head” (182), talks to the Elliotts about profit-sharing. However, the conversation comes soon after the argument with Cecily, causing Bill and Therese to take this request as a betrayal of their trust; Therese even accuses Mack of “taking a shot at [them]” (183). While Hilderbrand suggests that encounters with others hold great capacity for healing, she also shows the complicated ways in which people’s private lives can spill over into their dealings with others, creating further conflict.