Page 25 of The Summer We Started Over

“Oh.” He was a summer person. That made her wary. She never wanted to be anyone’s milkmaid to his lord of the manor. Still, Drew was nice. And very nice to look at. “Sure, I’d like to go to dinner or lunch or coffee.”

“How about tonight?”

“Sorry.” Barrett was genuinely sorry. “My sister just got here from New York. I need to spend more time with her.”

“Your sister, Eddie, right?” Drew paused. “How about Thursday night?”

“Okay. Um…that works. Thursday night.”

“I’ll pick you up at six?”

“Okay. I live on a farm with my father.”

“A farm? There’s a farm on Nantucket?”

“Several farms. We don’t farm, actually. We have a dog and we kind of have a horse, but she’s aloof.”

“Horses can be that way.” Drew smiled and held out his phone. “Could I get your number?” Barrett put her information into his phone.

Drew took it from her. “Got it. See you.”

“See you,” Barrett echoed.

—

After Drew left, Barrett called Louisa, who had knitted the beautiful sweater, to tell her she’d already sold it and needed more. Sheunpacked more inventory, filled out more tax forms, checked the shop’s website, watched crowds of people stream off the ferries. She knew they would be settling in for the summer, stocking up on groceries, taking the first walk of the summer along the beach.

Barrett checked her phone. No storm was coming, but it was late afternoon and she had done pretty much everything she could to prepare her shop for the grand opening.

She’d made a sale!

Louisa had told her she had more sweaters ready. Barrett decided to stop by and pick them up on her way home. She always enjoyed a nice chat with Louisa, who knew everything about the island.

—

It was almost six when Barrett entered her house. She stopped in the front hall. Something was different. Something was—something delicious was in the air.

“Eddie?” she called.

“In the kitchen.”

Barrett set her things on the front hall table and hurried to the kitchen. Eddie was at the sink, rinsing her hands.

“What’s that smell?” Barrett asked.

Eddie wore a pair of ancient jeans and a loose sweatshirt. “Roast chicken. It won’t be ready for ten minutes or so. Sit down. Let’s have a glass of wine. How was your day?”

“Have I entered an alternate universe?” Barrett looked around, eyes wide. “Roast chicken? Dinner rolls? Vegetables? What’s happened?”

Eddie laughed. “I guess you did all the shopping and cooking for the past two years. It’s not fair for you to work and cook, too. Sit down. I’m drinking Chardonnay. Is that good for you?”

“Yes, please.” Barrett slid into a chair. Smiling shyly, she said, “Guess what. I made a sale.”

Eddie lit up. “That’s great, Barrett! Congratulations.”

“Also,” Barrett confessed, “I’m going out with the guy Thursday night.”

Eddie frowned. “Really? Is the guy nice?”

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