Page 50 of The Summer We Started Over

The summer deepened. They came and went according to their own schedules. After an hour of doing emails for Dinah, Eddie drove out to Bartlett’s Farm to buy farm-made casseroles, pies, and vegetables, and over to the Nantucket Meat & Fish Market to buy steaks or fish, returning to fill the kitchen with all kinds of possible meals. Barrett came home at nine and wanted to eat alone while reading a book. She’d spent the day talking with people and craved solitude. Dinah wrote in the morning and drove into town to eat and drink at one ofher favorite restaurants. Most of the time, she struck up conversations with strangers. It was simple to do. She’d prop a paperback of hers up against her wineglass and read. Often, a woman stopped as she passed by.

“Oh, I love that book!” she’d say.

“Thank you,” Dinah would reply. “I wrote that book.”

The woman and her friends would join Dinah at the table and talk and drink until the moon was high.

—

One afternoon, Dinah drove her rented Mercedes convertible into town for an appointment with a hairdresser, a masseuse, and a manicurist.

Eddie went to the dining room with several wicker baskets with handles, which were easier to carry than cardboard boxes. She was determined to purge a great shadowy clump of books from beneath the table.

This seemed to be her father’s history nook. Fat tomes about the Tudors leaned against biographies of Thomas Jefferson.The Big Book of Icelandlay on top of a three-volume set about ancient Rome. Eddie gave each book a careful scrutiny. The pages were yellow, the publication dates decades old, the covers soft with dust. If she found a book about England, she kept it. Her father might want it for research.

It was just after four o’clock when she carried the first basket of books out to the barn. Jeff and Paul were there, removing the sheets and tarps that protected the furniture and rugs from dust.

Paul’s phone buzzed. He went out to lean against his truck to talk.

Jeff and Eddie were alone in the large open space.

“You guys are really done,” Eddie remarked, looking around.

“I’m not so sure. The way you keep bringing more books out here makes me think we’ll be here for eternity.”

“Would that be so bad?” Eddie asked, only half teasing.

Jeff moved toward her. His T-shirt was stained dark with sweat. He caught her gaze and held it. “You sure you should be saying things like that?”

She wanted to touch him. A shiver of pleasure ran down her back at his words. “I’ve been gone for a while,” she reminded him. “We can’t be who we were.”

Jeff’s voice grew husky. “Fine. Imagine how wecouldbe.”

“How we could be?” Eddie dropped her hands. She stepped closer to Jeff. “You mean, like lovers?”

Jeff reached out and took Eddie’s hand. “I mean, like everything in the world.”

His hand was so large, and strong, and warm. If he took it away, Eddie thought she would faint. She was almost hyperventilating, and that was terrifying, because her body was surging way ahead of her mind.

She knew he’d never want to live in New York. She knew what was happening right now was purely physical.

Eddie stepped away. “Could we…could we just be friends for a while? I don’t think I’m ready for a serious talk.”

Jeff’s face closed down. “Eddie, I’m certainly not trying to trap you into aserious talk.For one thing, Paul will be back here in a minute. But I can’t be your goodfriend.” Heat radiated off Jeff.

Gravel crunched as Paul returned from his phone conversation.

“Hey, guys,” Paul said. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” Eddie announced, more loudly than she’d intended. “I’ve got to bring out some more books.” She did an about-turn and went toward the house, realizing that hope as much as fear made her heart race.

—

There was a momentary lull at Nantucket Blues. No customers in the shop, no potential customers looking in the window. Barrett took the opportunity to Windex the shelves and place new merch where former objects had been taken down and bought. She was exhausted. Her shop was doing better than she’d expected, and she worked at night after she closed, finishing orders and catching up on paperwork. Drew had called, wanting to see her, and she’d had to refuse, promising she’d see him once she caught her breath.

She’d just gone behind the counter to straighten the bundle of bags beneath the cash register when she saw Drew walking toward her shop. A lovely young girl was with him. Too young, Barrett was sure, to be his girlfriend.

They entered the store. The girl wentooooh. Most women did when they entered the paradise of blue.

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