Page 51 of The Summer We Started Over

Barrett smiled. “Drew! How are you?”

“I’m good. I’ve got a week off and frankly, I can’t stop thinking of you. Could I take you out somewhere? Maybe a day at the beach, maybe dinner.” Before Barrett could answer, he said, “I know you’ve been busy. I brought you the solution to your problem. Janny, come over here.” He put his arm over the shoulders of a girl who looked much like Drew. “Barrett, this is my sister, Janny. Janny this is Barrett.”

“Hi, Janny. Nice to meet you.” Barrett couldn’t understand how Drew’s pretty sister could be the solution to her problem. What problem?

Drew said, “Janny is nineteen years old. She’s a sophomore at Wheaton. She has worked in retail several times. She has a résumé and references from her former employers.”

Barrett frowned. “Okay.”

Janny spoke up. “What Drew means is that I could work for you part-time. He said you’re in this shop eleven hours a day, at least, and you haven’t had one solid hour to go to the beach with him. Or dinner. I was going to look for a job on the island anyway, and I’d love to work for you. I’m good with customers, and I know my way around a cash register.”

Barrett’s eyes widened. This might actually be the answer to her prayers. She liked the look of the young woman. If she worked only part-time, Barrett certainly had the money to pay her and Barrett would have more time to focus on orders and spreadsheets. “Could you work in the evenings?”

“Absolutely,” Drew said.

“Hey!” Janny laughed and punched her brother’s shoulder. “Absolutely,” she agreed.

ten

At last, they were ready.

Paul had made a handsome wooden sign to hang over the barn doors.

Book Barn.

Inside, track lighting hung from the rafters, to be used when it rained. Old-fashioned standing lamps had been set around, near the bookshelves and bins, their soft golden glow illuminating book titles. Two ancient, cracked leather chairs rested on a threadbare Persian rug with a low table between them and a fake Tiffany lamp on the table, illuminating piles of books. An old lectern had been placed near the door, so the shopkeeper—whoever it was on any given day—could greet customers, and slightly behind the lectern was a table holding a computer and a cash box. From the back of the barn, an electric fan rested on a pile of books, its hum adding to the general sense ofcomfort and rest. Paul and Jeff had hung framed scenes of the ocean and the town above the bookcases and bins. Against one wall of the barn stood a long bookcase, painted lavender, with gold embellishments, and this held Dinah Lavender’s books. Along the opposite wall were low book bins with children’s books and two small chairs for reading, a low table, a pile of coloring paper, several sticker books, and coloring books to keep kids busy while their parents browsed.

With the barn doors open and the sun slanting in, the spines and covers of all the books glowed like precious stones.

The hardest part had been pricing the used books. The sisters spent days squabbling. Should paperbacks be fifty cents? Who evenrememberedfifty cents? Everyone used their phones to buy things, or they had some paper money in their pockets. Also, should some books bemore expensive than others? Surely a hardback ofThe Fondue Cookbookshould cost more (or less?) than the paperback of James Michener’sCentennial.

It was Dinah who stepped in to solve the problem. “The idea is to get rid of the books, not to make money, correct? Eddie, you’ll be running the store and I’ll help. Barrett has to be in Nantucket Blues. All we have to do is get rolls of quarters from the bank. Price the paperbacks fifty cents and the hardbacks one dollar. Easy.”

“Good idea. You’re so smart, Dinah!”

“Let me make a sign,” Dinah decided. “I’ll use the crayons.” She slid into one of the small chairs at the children’s table and set to work.

Eddie had been busy on social media. Finally, she announced,The Grand Opening of the Book Barn, book signing with romance author Dinah Lavender.

The bookstore opened on a Saturday morning, at ten o’clock. Barrett had already gone to her shop. Eddie wore a cute sundress and Dinah was sensational in a lavender sundress and Hermès sunglasses. William kept out of sight, but Eddie glimpsed him from the kitchen window. Poor Duke had to be shut inside. The dog would have beenso excited he’d have barked himself into a coma. But the horse was curious, running up to the fence, neighing, snorting, tossing her head in disdain, and running away again.

At ten minutes till ten, Eddie opened the wide barn doors. The shop looked like the set of an especially interesting play.

By ten-thirty, not one person had come down the gravel drive to check out the barn.

“It’s all right,” Eddie reassured Dinah. “People move slowly on the weekends.”

“It’snotall right,” Dinah complained. “Readers should be lining up to meet me and get my autograph.”

At ten thirty-five, Dinah stood up from her chair carefully situated in front of her gorgeous bookcase of Dinah Lavender books and put her special lavender (purple, really) Sharpie on the small table in front of her.

“This is a waste of time. Buzz my cell if anyone comes.” She tossed her head and started to leave.

As if by a signal, a parade of cars came crackling down the drive. Three; no, four; no, five cars.

Dinah went back to her chair.

Together Eddie and Dinah watched women of all ages step out of their vehicles. They wore full-press makeup and frilly sundresses. They tittered and giggled as they approached the barn.

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