Page 55 of Summer Reading

“And me without my tackle box,” I said.

“Tragic,” he said. “I suppose we’ll just have to hope they have room for us at the restaurant.”

He parked and strolled around the back of the car to open my door for me. Normally, I would open my door myself and meet him halfway, but it was hard to navigate the dress and the heels and my handbag. I was woefully out of practice at being a girlie girl.

Ben offered his hand and I took it, letting him pull me to my feet. His fingers were strong and warm andhe didn’t let go of me, but instead held my hand as we walked to the restaurant.

Bailey’s had a small sign hanging outside on the corner. The gray shingled building with the white trim looked like every other Martha’s Vineyard edifice, but it boasted a long porch with white rocking chairs, and inside the tables had white linens and comfy chairs, inviting diners to linger.

I hadn’t eaten there since the former owners sold the place several years ago. My dad had delivered this news with the solemnity of a man reporting a death in the family. Once the new owner took over, however, my dad and Stephanie gave it a test run and declared it would remain the family place of celebration. Wouldn’t Dad be pleased that I was going on a first date here? I wondered if I should tell him when he checked in from Europe. Nah, it could keep until he got home. Still, I knew he’d approve and somehow that made this date feel even more meaningful.

The hostess sat us at a lovely table for two by a window and handed us menus. I glanced at mine. The font was not dyslexic friendly and there were no pictures. Thankfully, I already knew the menu by heart.

The waitress came by and took our drink order. Knowing I was going to get seafood, I went with the house white wine. Ben ordered the same. I felt him watching me over his menu. I sensed he wanted to saysomething but wasn’t sure how. I decided to put him out of his misery.

“I should warn you, when I eat out, I hit every course, appetizers, entrée, and dessert,” I said. “But I’m also a very good sharer.”

He nodded and I saw his shoulders drop ever so slightly. “That sounds great.”

“Do you want to share the seared scallops?” I asked.

“Excellent choice.” He kept watching me.

“And for an entrée, I am torn between the swordfish or the roasted cod.”

“Those look great,” he said. “If we each order one, we can share.”

“Perfect,” I said. I put my menu down. Dessert could be ordered later. He was still studying me. “And now you’re wondering how I could read the menu so easily?”

“No.” He shook his head and then nodded. “Okay, a little bit.”

I smiled. I liked his honesty, so it was time for my own.

“Truthfully, Em told me you had asked about my favorite restaurants. So I went online and studied all of the menus so I was prepared. Sorry. Do you think I’m a big fraud?”

He shook his head. “You’re not a fraud. You’reamazing. I can’t even imagine how you manage to run a kitchen and think so many steps ahead. It must be like being in a foreign country where you can speak the language but can’t read it.”

“That’s a very a good analogy, but I’m not amazing,” I said. “Dyslexia is more than just a reading disability. It causes my brain to be busy all the time. I swear, some days it’s like a hive of bees up there, and my organization isn’t great because I get distracted easily. Honestly, running a restaurant kitchen was hard, and I only pulled it off because I had a great crew.”

“Still impressed,” he said. “Are you headed back to Boston when you’re finished chaperoning Tyler?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I left my position at my former restaurant, so I’m going to be looking for a new one, but I don’t know if it will be in Boston or if I’ll go someplace else. How about you? You’re the interim director, are you going back to academia at the end of the summer?”

“Like you, I don’t know.” His gaze held mine. “I suppose it’ll depend upon how this summer plays out.”

I felt my body temperature rise under his warm regard. Did he mean between him and me? Was I ready for that? I wasn’t. At best, all I had to offer was a summer fling. I was about to say as much when our waitress arrived with our wine.

I ordered our meals and she departed. As I watched her leave, I noticed Ben was studying a fiftysomethingman in the corner, seated with his wife. My heart sank. This again.

I took a bracing sip of my wine, and he turned back to me.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was just—”

“Checking out a middle-aged man at another table?” I asked.

“When you say it like that, it sounds so pervy,” he said. But he was smiling.

“You were going to explain this... interest... of yours to me before,” I said.

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