Page 87 of Summer Reading

“Argh!” I grumbled. “I was sure I shut that thing off.”

Ben was laughing.

“What?” I asked. I hit the button on the oven and turned back to him.

“There we go, setting off more alarms,” he said. He shrugged as if unsurprised that our chemistry was potent enough to cause havoc all around us. Charmer.

“I have to get back. See you tomorrow, Samwise.” He kissed me quick and then left.

“Bye!” I called after him.

My brain went into hyperdrive as soon as the door shut behind him.He sees you as his person. He thinks this will last longer than just the summer. You’re going to disappoint him. He’ll get sick of your disability. He’ll dump you. It’ll be worse the longer you’re together.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, shut up,” I said to the voice in my head. Then I dunked some freshly made bolo lêvedo into my marinade and scarfed it down, because good food makes everything better.

Chapter Twenty-One

No one had a record of Moira Reynolds working for them during the summer of 1989. Ben and I spent two weeks hitting every restaurant on the island that had been open at the time, and no luck. We’d looped Em into the quest but even with her mad research skills, we hit a dead end. There was simply no trace of Moira Reynolds on the island that summer. It was as if she’d managed to disappear her past. How did a person do that?

At my third happy hour at the inn, I made a point of asking Stuart Mayhew, the owner, about Moira, but he said he hadn’t arrived on the island until 1991 and had never met her. Despite this setback, I crushed it at that happy hour and Stuart was very pleased. Both Ben and Em were there to cheer me on, which I appreciated.

I knew that Ben was taking the lack of a lead hard and trying not to show it. We watched old British mysteries together, trying to up our detective game, and we worked on my cookbook. He sat on a stool inthe kitchen, writing the recipes on his laptop as I cooked. When I went to throw in a pinch of this or a dash of that, he made me stop and measure the ingredients. Tyler frequently joined us, and I knew that Vovó would be so happy to know that the boy she didn’t get a chance to watch grow up was learning the family recipes.

Robotics camp was going well, and I noticed that Tyler’s conversations seemed to begin and end with Sophie. Three and a half weeks had passed since Dad and Stephanie departed. I sincerely hoped that they returned before things got serious—as in, we needed to have a talk—between the two teens.

When not searching for his dad, Ben threw himself into his job as library director, and he and Ryan took the robotics campers on a field trip where they used drones to map the island. It was all Tyler talked about for the next two days.

At the four-week mark for summer reading, Em and I, with Tyler’s assist, held our teen cooking program, Teen Chef, which was a massive success, if I do say so myself. Tyler and I wore matching chef coats and he was very close to being a perfect sous-chef, anticipating what I needed before I knew I needed it. He also charmed the socks off the girls in the crowd with his quick wit and dazzling smile. I couldn’t have been more proud.

At the end of the night, when the kids were makingtheir own food under our supervision, we cranked the tunes until I saw Ben arrive in the doorway of the conference room, looking very much like the library director that he was. In his white dress shirt and gray slacks with his tie loosened, he had a hot professor look about him that was hard to resist.

I left Tyler to oversee the group and met Ben at the door. “Are we being too loud?”

“Nah, we’re about to close,” he said. “Maybe the noise will encourage those who would normally linger right up until the very last second to leave in a timelier fashion.”

“Happy to help,” I said.

“Looks like your influence has extended to more than food,” he said. He tipped his chin at the crowd behind me, and I turned to see Tyler leading a dance party.

He had Sophie and Cameron on each side of him, and he was showing them how to shuffle dance just like I had shown him—flamingo, pyramid, flamingo, pyramid. Then he went fast and his running man was so smooth. I clasped my hands in front of me. I was as impressed as the girls.

“Sam!” Tyler saw me watching and waved me in.

“Be right back,” I said to Ben.

“Of course,” he said. He leaned against the doorway, making himself comfortable while he watched.

“Can you show them the T-step?” Tyler asked. “I’m still working on that one.”

“Sure,” I said.

I demonstrated slowly. Tyler joined me. Then we went fast, and I could hear the kids talking behind us. They sounded like they approved. We changed it up, trying to trip each other up with different dance steps. When the song ended, we were gassed.

Tyler held out a fist and I knuckle bumped him. He then slapped my open palm with his and then the back. He hooked his thumb with mine and lifted both our hands in the air. He laughed at my look of confusion.

“We have to have a Gale sibling handshake,” he said.

“And that’s what you came up with?” I asked. “We’ll be working on that.”

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