Page 44 of Summer Reading

I had no idea. No one had read to me since I was a kid, which I had loved. I could still remember leaning over my mother’s arm to see the illustrations in the picture books. My favorite wasWhere the Wild Things Areby Maurice Sendak, and I’d had her read it over and over and over again until I had the entire book memorized and could say it with her. Naturally, this became one of my earliest coping skills.

And for many reasons, not just sentimental ones,Stargirlby Jerry Spinelli, the last book my dad read to me when I was eleven, before my parents decided I was old enough to read to myself—ha!—was also a favorite. How could I not love a book about a girl who was not like anyone else and who was totally okay with it? The memories were as thick as the fog that frequently engulfed the island. It was a revelation to realize how much I had loved those stories, and how much I had missed listening to someone read to me.

I studied Ben’s face. Did I see pity or mockery there? I didn’t think so. Still, I was cautious. “Does this mean you’re going to keep reading to me?”

“That depends,” he said.

“On?”

“What are you doing for dinner tomorrow night?”

I laughed. Oh, I liked this man. I liked him a lot.

“Tomorrow night?” I asked.

“Yeah, I have to go to Chilmark to see my mom tonight, but I’m free tomorrow if you want to go out to dinner with me. Just so we’re clear, you don’t have to cook for stories. I’m interested in you for more than your cooking.”

Be still my heart.

“Then we can do some reading,” he continued. How did he make reading sound so sexy? I felt a bead of sweat run down between my breasts. “And find out what happens when our heroine gets to Paris.”

“I might be interested in that,” I said. I was absolutely interested in that.

“Great,” he said. “Then it’s a date.”

He gave me a pointed look to see if I protested his word choice. I did not. I saw the intent in his gaze and I didn’t wave him away. Instead, I waited, perfectly still, while he leaned in and kissed me as if sealing the deal. His mouth was gentle, and he lingered for a moment as if he just couldn’t help himself.

When he leaned back, I had to force myself not to follow him like a moth to the porch light because he’d certainly given me a case of the flutters. He had to get back to the library, so we folded up our chairs and left the beach together. We agreed that he’d pick me uptomorrow when he got off work. I reminded him to bring the book, which made him smile.

•••

I rode my bicycle home, pedaling through the quaint Oak Bluffs neighborhood, wondering what this shift between Ben and me meant. Were we dating? Well, we were going on a date, so—yes? Or were we just getting to know each other? Did that make us friends? Friends with potential? All of the above? I had no idea, but I was eager to find out.

Chapter Eleven

Tyler was outside waiting for me when I arrived at the library. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. I was five minutes early. I pulled up alongside the curb, wondering if something had gone wrong.

Tyler climbed into the passenger seat and fastened his seat belt.

“Everything all right?” I asked. I tried to sound like I wasn’t expecting an answer, because I’d noticed over the past few days that the more invested I was in Tyler’s life, the more he shut down and shut me out. Honestly, it was like having a prickly little hedgehog for a sibling.

“Yup,” he said.

Monosyllabic answers. My favorite. But I knew better than to keep asking questions. If I kept asking, he’d just go full vow of silence on me.

I navigated the neighborhood, keeping an eye out for tourists while moving at a crawl. It was the perfect summer evening, when the heat of the sun was waning and a cool breeze was picking up. I could smellsomeone grilling something yummy, and I wondered how difficult Tyler would be if I wanted to make something adventurous for dinner like spicy beef flatbread with yogurt and cucumbers. Hmm.

“Why did Ben want to know what your favorite sandwich is?” he asked apropos of nothing.

I was just pulling into our driveway and pretended to be concentrating on not hitting the curb to buy myself some time, as I wasn’t sure how to answer. Would Tyler be appalled if he knew Ben and I were interested in each other? Would he think I was infringing on his library turf?

“He brought me a sandwich on his lunch hour,” I said.

“Why?”

“Because he’s nice,” I said. This was all true.

“Yeah, he is,” Tyler said. “But bringing you a sandwich seems like above and beyond, so what gives, and why is your friend Emily sitting on our porch?”

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