Page 32 of The Summer We Started Over

“Any other sibs?”

Barrett paused. This was not a good time to mention Stearns. “No. Our parents are divorced. My father was a professor at Williams College, but he left to write a book.”

Drew looked impressed. “Nice. He must be brilliant. And your mother?”

Barrett shook her head. “She left us about four years ago. It’s fine. Motherhood was never a pleasure for her. We think she’s in Amsterdam now.”

“Wow,” Drew said. “That’s huge. Do you miss her?”

“Truthfully? Deep in my heart, I wish she’d been a more loving mother. But I get it.” She paused, wondering again if she should mention Stearns. No, she decided. It was too sad, and she wanted to be happy right now. “She loved my father, but she has a wanderer’s heart.She was a good enough mother when we were young. Now we’re grown. She’s set free. I’m happy for her.”

The waiter appeared and set their first courses in front of them.

“My mother is the opposite of what your mother sounds like.” Drew paused to dip a piece of crusty bread into the sauce around his mussels. “She’s super-traditional, glued to routine, and she’s done the iron-hand-in-the-velvet-glove bit all my life. I love her, of course. I respect her. But sometimes I wish she’d go away.”

“I get that,” Barrett replied, with a sad smile.

Drew said, “Tell me about living on the island.”

Barrett told him about moving here from Williamstown, how she’d worked two jobs and saved enough money to start her store.

“Of course, living with my father means I don’t have to pay rent, but in a way, taking care of him is like a third job. I buy groceries and cook and keep the house clean. Also, when we bought the house, it came with a horse, that was part of the deal, because the horse is…not difficult, butsensitive.She won’t let us ride her. It’s like we’re engaged in a very lengthy courtship. I put hay and corn out for her all winter and keep her water trough full and brush her once a week. She’s sort of like another dog. Our real dog is named Duke.”

“What jobs did you work here?” Drew asked.

“Ha!” Barrett said.

She leaned toward him, entertaining him with tales about cleaning houses and waitressing. Drew had tended bar when he was in business school, and suddenly they were exchanging stories about crazy or obnoxious patrons, and they were laughing together, and Barrett felt like she had known Drew all her life.

They lingered over dessert and coffee, still talking about their recent histories. Barrett slowly being accepted by Nantucket people. The things Drew had done on the island when he was a child. Which beaches they preferred, their favorite spots on the moors. The parties friends gave in the summer that lasted all night long.

Afterward, they strolled around town, checking out the store windows, all decorated for summer. As they crossed the cobblestones on Main Street, they bumped shoulders, and Drew took Barrett’s hand, and they walked together, holding hands.

They sat on one of the benches in the library’s garden as the night fell around them. The air was cool and fresh. The trees in the garden were in full blossom, providing a delicate screen from the sidewalk. From across the street, laughter and music floated.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Drew asked.

“No. Since we moved here, I’ve been too busy to date seriously. I’ve made some good friends, but no, I’m not seeing anyone.” She studied him. “Are you?”

“I’ve got a busy social life in the city, but—” He interrupted himself. “Gak.Busy social life. I sound like I’m presenting my résumé. Let me start over. I’m working eighty hours a week, and I have a few women friends, but no one special. I haven’t wanted to make time for anyone special.”

“But you came to Nantucket,” Barrett reminded him.

“Yes, for my sister’s birthday.” He paused. “I have a feeling I’ll be coming to Nantucket more often.”

“That would be nice,” Barrett told him.

A group of giggling tweens rushed into the garden, chattering past Barrett and Drew, breaking their mood.

Drew stood. “Enough talk about families. Let’s go look at the boats in the harbor.” He held out his hand.

Barrett took it, rose, and together they strolled toward the harbor. It wasn’t the high season yet, but several small yachts and deep-sea fishing boats bobbed in their moorings. When they walked to the end of the dock, they were surrounded by stars reflected in the dark water.

Barrett knew Drew was going to kiss her, and he did. Gently, he touched his lips to hers. He cupped her face in his hand and pulled her body close to his as their kiss deepened. He was an excellent kisser, in a sort of paint-by-numbers way. How many women had he kissed in his life? And why should it matter to her? The thought crossed her mind, as swift and bright as a firefly, that Drew considered kissing a competitive event in some kind of romantic triathlon.

Why was she thinking instead of feeling?

Clearly, she was out of kissing practice.

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