Page 95 of Summer Reading

“Oh no,” I said. I shook my head. “That’s crossing a line.”

“What line?” Em asked. “You told him you’d help him find his father and this is the best clue you’ve found all summer.”

“Except my father is in the picture, too,” I said. “Um... awkward.”

She shook her head. “Why are you making a big deal out of that? Remember when he asked for your help? He said it was because your family had been here for generations and knew everyone on the island. It makes perfect sense that your father is in the picture and potentially knew his father.”

I sipped my coffee. It was hot and bitter and tasted like dread, or maybe that was just me.

“What’s wrong, Sam?” she asked. “I feel as if you’re not telling me something.”

“Ben was just supposed to be a summer fling,” I said. I set my chair to rocking, but slowly, more meditatively this time.

“And?”

“My feelings changed,” I said. “I thought we didn’t have enough in common, that we could never last for the long haul, but we both love mystery shows, I’ve been teaching him to paddleboard, we read together—okay, he reads and I listen—and now he’s helping me with the cookbook—”

“Right,” she interrupted me. “All those activities you do together is what has shifted your feelings for him, but not the way he looks at you as if you’re everything he ever wanted in a woman.” The sarcasm was thick enough to spread with a knife.

My face got hot and I felt like I had to protest even though my heart was crying,Yes! Yes! Yes!I cleared my throat. “I’m sure he does not look at me that way.”

“Oh, but he does,” Em assured me. “It’s revolting and matched only by the way you look at him.” Her voice softened as if she was delivering bad news. “Sam, you’re in love with him.”

“No, no, no, no.” I vigorously shook my head as if rattling my brain loose would add weight to my denial. “I’m not ready for that.”

“Too late,” she said. “Think of it this way, you’ll have plenty of time to recalibrate on the drive to Chilmark.”

I frowned. “Chilmark?”

“Isn’t that where Ben is going today?” She calmlysipped her coffee, looking like she hadn’t just devised the most outrageous course of action.

“Yes, he’s visiting his mom this afternoon. What are you suggesting?” She stared at me. “No! I can’t present this to him now.” I cried. “I need time.”

“Sam, I hate to point out the obvious but summer is more than half over. If Ben is going to find out who his father is, he can’t waste a second,” Em said. “You need to go to his house and show him.”

“I could also just text it to him,” I said.

“You’re going to explain that your dad is in a photo with his mom and some other random guy in a text?”

“Too complicated?” I asked.

“A bit,” she said.

I put my coffee on the small table between us and scrubbed my scalp with my fingers. I felt as if I was going mad. What would I want Ben to do if the situation was reversed? Oh, that was easy. I’d want him to bring the picture to me. I nodded.

“All right,” I said. “I’m going.”

“ ‘The most difficult path is usually the right one to take,’ ” Em said. “The protagonist of my favorite author, Siobhan Riordan, always said that in her series.”

“She’s the young adult fantasy author you loved when we were in middle school, isn’t she?”

Em nodded.

“Wise woman.” I picked up my mug and swallowedmost of the coffee. It was hot, scalding even, but it got my head in the game. I rose to my feet. “I’m doing the right thing, yes?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “Call me when you get done.”

“Definitely.” I rose to my feet, and Em put her coffee down and stood, too. She hugged me quick and said, “You’ve got this.”

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