Page 69 of The Summer We Started Over

Before she could say more, Jeff took her hand and led her away, down the steps from the deck to the driveway and his truck.

Once they were settled in with their seatbelts fastened, Jeff grinned at Eddie. “Well, now you’ve met my mom.”

“She’s wonderful,” Eddie said truthfully. She wondered how her life would have been if she had had a mother like that.

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Saturday evening, Barrett locked up her shop and headed home, going out of her way to drive past the Fischer house on the cliff. It was an amazing property. Tommy Hilfiger had once owned it. Flowers bloomed everywhere. Lights shone from the many windows like beacons. This was Drew and Janny’s summer residence.

When she pulled into her own driveway, she sat for a moment, considering. The old farmhouse her father had bought was not a mansion, but it was sturdy and welcoming. The Book Barn was closed and the horse had trotted up to the fence to check out her arrival. She knew Duchess would race away if she tried to pet her, so she only called a hello as she left her car and walked toward the house.

Two tubs of glossy begonias with bright pink flowers stood on the porch at either side of the steps to the front door. This was Eddie’s touch, Barrett realized, and as she entered her home, she walked through it slowly, noticing for the first time all the small changes Eddie had made.

On the front hall table, an antique blue and white porcelain basin held all the mail that was usually scattered. The windows were openin the living room, letting the cool evening air drift in and gently stir the vase of roses on the coffee table. Eddie had bought them, probably at the local grocery store, and three bunches had been gathered together, brightening the room. The dining room cupboard held several bottles of good wine, brought home by Dinah, and Barrett walked into the kitchen, knowing that if she opened the refrigerator, she would find several tempting desserts. Tiramisu. Blueberry pie. Chocolate chip brownies.

“Hello?” Barrett called.

Duke barked once in reply, but was too comfortable on the living room sofa to jump down.

“Hello, handsome,” Barrett said, petting him.

Her father didn’t respond, but the light was on in his study, shining out beneath the closed door.

Barrett took a piece of pie, wandered into the den, collapsed on the sofa, and clicked the remote control. Someone, probably Dinah, had been watchingThe Borgias.Barrett was tired. She’d worked hard all summer and had more work to come. Her father stuck his head into the den to say hello and went off to bed at ten.

She yawned and relaxed and gave herself over to the complicated world of fifteenth-century Italy.

It was nearly eleven when her phone buzzed. The caller ID readDrew.Barrett hesitated. Why wasn’t he at the gala?

She muted the TV and answered her phone.

“Hey, aren’t you at a gala?” she asked.

Drew’s voice was low and sexy. “I was. I went with my parents, and we left early. I thought you might be up for a moonlight walk on the beach.”

Barrett hesitated. He hadn’t taken her to the gala, but that was because of his parents, right? Did this call mean he really liked her?

“That would be nice,” she said.

“I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.”

Barrett raced up to her room, took off the blue sundress she’d beenworking in, pulled on a T-shirt and shorts, brushed her teeth, and hurried down to the porch, arriving just in time to see the headlights of Drew’s car as he turned in to the drive.

Drew leaned over and opened the passenger door. Barrett left the porch, ran to his car, and slid inside. Drew touched her face lightly and kissed her.

He said, “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Me, too,” Barrett replied, keeping it light.

Drew smelled like alcohol and a high-end men’s cologne. He’d changed into a wrinkled T-shirt, board shorts, and loafers.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Barrett asked him.

“Not really. My parents still like to show me off as if I were five and had just starred in a school play.”

“That’s nice,” Barrett said. “You’re lucky. Not everyone’s parents are so admiring.”

“It’s not admiration,” Drew told her, sounding serious. “My sister and I have always been acquisitions, possessions, enriching their portfolio.”

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