Page 57 of The Summer We Started Over

She’d chosen to wear a simple little navy dress with only a hint of cleavage. Her hair had been bleached by the sun from caramel to blond, and she wore small emerald earrings that brought out the green of her eyes. A touch of lipstick. No blush, no eye shadow. Everything simple, elegant. Drew wore a madras blazer and no tie. Leatherloafers without socks. Barrett had sworn she’d never date a man who wore loafers without socks, but she quietly changed her mind.

Barrett felt people looking at her and Drew as they walked beneath the rose arbor and into the restaurant’s garden. She felt a slight shiver of pleasure, knowing that the two of them were the perfect summer couple, young, good-looking, well-dressed, sexy. She was delighted that their table faced the rose garden, and it was sweet to sit in the handsome room after all her days and hours of working.

“Let’s have a glass of champagne to start,” Drew suggested.

Barrett said, “Lovely,” and stifled a gasp when he ordered a champagne that cost forty-five dollars a glass.

“An excellent choice, sir,” the waiter said.

“We’ll have wine with our meal,” Drew told Barrett, looking deep into her eyes. “First, I want to celebrate meeting you.”

Barrett smiled, even though she knew she’d tell Eddie and they’d fall all over laughing because, wow, that was such a cheesy thing to say.

But Drew seemed sincerely interested in Barrett. He asked her about her shop and how Janny was doing. Over their scallops and salmon (and sinfully expensive white wine), Barrett told Drew about her family, making them all seem eccentric in an intellectual and amusing way, not mentioning her brother. Drew told her she was lucky to have such an interesting family.

Drew talked about his parents, always traveling to their houses off the coast of Greece or in Jackson Hole. He was very close to his sister and considered himself her protector because they so seldom saw their parents.

“I’m really glad,” Drew continued, “that Janny’s working with you. You’re a good role model for her. She’s doing well, right?”

“She’s great. She’s great with our customers.”

After dinner, they walked up and down the charming small-town streets of ’Sconset. Everywhere, roses were blooming, tumbling in the hundreds over the low roofs and along the picket fences. When they came to a private grassy lane between two obviously empty cottages,Drew gently pulled Barrett into his arms, kissing her slowly and thoroughly. She leaned back against the shingled wall, closing her eyes and—and seeingPaul’sface.

What?Barrett thought.

Drew stopped kissing her. “Are you okay?”

Reluctantly, Barrett pushed him away. “Drew, I have to go home. I have to get up early tomorrow.”

He nuzzled her neck. “I know. I know.” He cradled her face in his hands. “You’re so delicious.”

She accepted another heated kiss before easing away from him. “I really have to go now.”

They returned to his car. He held her hand as he drove, and when they reached her house, he hugged her against him.

“Soon,” he whispered in her ear.

“Soon,” Barrett echoed, not certain of what that even meant.

eleven

From the Fourth of July on, the population exploded from twenty thousand people to sixty thousand. The sun was bright, the beaches were golden, the bars and restaurants packed, and anyone who worked fell onto their bed, exhausted.

During the hot summer days, Eddie was busy in a slow, luxurious way. She spent hours proofreading Dinah’s latest draft. She wasn’t working full-time for the writer, but they both agreed that Dinah needed a proofreader and she was coming up to a deadline.

Eddie also ran the Book Barn. When no customers were around, she hurried into the house, snatched up a pile of books, and carried them back outside to fill the gaps.

Because there were gaps. People bought the most amazing books. A biography of Hegel. What? Who was Hegel? Who cared? And how did you pronounce his name?Whistling WhileWhittling. Eddie actually checked inside the wide, flat book, thinking the title was somekind of code for spies or pornographers. Nope. It was for real. Four versions ofLittle Women.She kept one but put three out for sale, even though it made her sad. One had been her mother’s, one someone gave Eddie, one Eddie gave Barrett, another one Eddie had given Barrett that Stearns had scribbled all over with crayons. Eddie knew she should just throw it away, but she didn’t. It sat on a shelf in the barn, where she knew no one would buy it, but it reminded her of Stearns.

Hours went by when no one came to browse. During those quiet times, Eddie prepared that evening’s dinner, or tidied the house, or sat in the barn and read.

One evening, Barrett was still in her shop, Dinah was at dinner with friends, and William was at a lecture at the library.

Eddie was lounging on pillows on the wide wicker porch swing, reading a book. She heard a noise, glanced up, and there was Jeff, walking around the corner of the house, with Duke following, wagging his tail.

“Hey,” Eddie said. She sat up and set her book on the small side table.

“Hey, yourself. I hope I’m not disturbing anything. I was on my way home and thought I’d stop by and see if you’d like a beer.” He held up a six-pack. “Don’t worry. I’m here strictly as a friend.”

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