Page 89 of The Summer We Started Over

Eddie seated herself, opened her tea, and smiled at her sister.

Barrett sat, too. “So. When are you going back to the city?”

“I don’t know about going back to New York. Dinah hasn’t mentioned it. She told me she’s getting a lot of good writing done here, she’s more easily concocting complicated plots and characters.”

Barrett’s eyes lit up. “Maybe she wants to live here?”

“I don’t know. She never swims or goes to the beach, but she’s always in town, shopping—I’m sure she’s bought thousands of dollars’ worth of new clothes and jewelry. She’s made friends and she told me—this is the only thing she’s told me, we haven’t made any plans—she wants to stay on the island until January to enjoy the cranberry harvest and stroll.” Eddie laughed. “She told me she likes theairhere.”

This was wonderful, Barrett thought. More than she’d hoped for. Eddie might stay through Christmas? She kept the lid on her reaction. “We do have some fine salt air.”

“But you’re right about Dove and Bobby. I don’t want to leave them here, with Dove so ill, and…with everything so unsettled.”

“And what about Jeff?” Barrett asked.

“I know.” Eddie looked pensive. “What about Jeff? I haven’t had a chance to talk to him privately about Bobby. I mean, it’s nearly September, and we’re all working our butts off. Contractors have their crews working long hours. So many people wanted new houses. New mansions. Guesthouses. Air-conditioned and humidity-controlled squash courts. Screening rooms like those in movie theaters, complete with seats that recline and cup holders for their drinks. Jeff is whipped at the end of the day.”

“I know. I’m straight out, too. But it’s kind of a good thing, really.” Barrett hugged herself as she spoke. “I never dreamed my shop would be so successful.”

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Eddie missed seeing Jeff, but she understood. He was working long hours in the broiling sun. Usually he’d head home, take a shower, drink a beer, and eat whatever his mother left for him on the counter or in the refrigerator.

But their phone conversations lasted longer every day, until Jeff was yawning with exhaustion. Their conversations were loose, wandering talks, about all the little things, how their day went, how crazy the traffic was in the summer, how people cut cars off if they thought they were driven by summer people, how frightening it was when a family on bikes crossed the intersection without stopping to check right of way. Or they discussed the newest movie review by Anthony Lane inThe New Yorker,the one magazine they both took, and yes, it was true, they had become hoarders, too, because the days weren’t long enough for them to read all the reviews, fiction, and op-ed pieces every week, so the magazines piled up on their bedside tables. Maybe someday they’d be moved to the Book Barn. They talked about movies they wanted to see again, likeMy Cousin Vinny,especially to see the courtroom scene with Marisa Tomei, orArmageddon,especially to see Steve Buscemi on a nuclear bomb, or Christopher Walken in anything, especially his dance video, and why it was that some people were justcool,and other people could never be cool, no matter what they did. They talked about Barrett and her store, and Dove and Bobby, and her father and Dinah, who often spoke with each other at length at the kitchen table, until William looked embarrassed and wentharrumphand left the table, walked into his study, and firmly shut the door.

Eddie understood how she and Jeff were like teenagers, not wanting to hang up the phone, to say good night, to separate, to lose the sweet slight sounds of breath and the mysteriously profound pleasure of the other’s voice.

Jeff never nudged her into thoughts of the future, but Eddie would wonder into the night: Whatwereher thoughts for the future? She was almost thirty. She’d always balked at the thought of having children.She’d loved her crazy, super-busy city life with Dinah. But Dinah had changed. She often took her laptop to the Book Barn to work, and if customers came in, Dinah would help them. Dinah also had never put on a bathing suit and swum at Surfside, or anywhere. She hadn’t gone walking on the winding paths through the moors or in the slightly soggy trails through Squam Swamp. But she was happy with life on the island, Eddie thought. Dinah went to all the plays, movies, concerts, and galas she was invited to, and she was invited to them all, once the organization realized who she was and how much she could give.

But her life shouldn’t depend on Dinah, Eddie thought. What didEddiewant to do? Where did she want to live? How did she want to live her life?

Right now, it all depended on Dove. Some days Dove rallied and everyone was optimistic. But more often, Dove spent the day in bed.

Eddie wrote in her journal every day. She knew she was finding escape and even solace in writing, but her thoughts raced through her mind and her heart was overflowing with emotions.

sixteen

Saturday evening, Barrett went home early to shower and dress for the gala. Eddie did her hair and makeup, and Barrett wore a sleek slip dress in turquoise with turquoise and diamond earrings that Dinah had loaned her for the evening.

Paul arrived, looking amazing in a navy blazer that pulled at his wide shoulders, a white shirt, and white ducks. He was all cleaned up and shaved, more sophisticated than she’d ever seen him.

The yacht club was crowded. Beautiful people in fabulous clothes drifted through the high-ceilinged rooms and out onto the grassy lawn leading down to the water. They drank icy vodka tonics and cut through the crowd to view the auction items laid out on long tables covered with immaculate white tablecloths. In the background, a live jazz band played. Waiters passed through the crowd with platters of crab cakes and tuna tartare. The very air they breathed was special, spicy from sea salt and expensive perfumes.

Barrett and Paul recognized some of the crowd. Connie Higgins, recently retired from the Nantucket Select Board, and Martin Malcolm, new member of the board, were there, Connie looking serene as always, Martin looking as brilliant as he was. Heather and Miles Hunter were there with Kailee and Ross Willette. Barrett caught some of the crush studying her and Paul, and she gave a moment of mental thanks to Dinah for loaning her the jewelry and to Eddie, who’d insisted Barrett wear her Christian Louboutin high heels.

Barrett leaned against Paul and asked, “How many billions of dollars are walking around this room right now?”

Paul smiled. “None of them is as happy as I am, here with you.”

She couldn’t take her eyes from him. “Oh.” She drew closer to him, almost pressing herself against him. “I’m happy, too.”

Annie Gardner, a small blonde in a red dress, and a friend, brushed Barrett’s side. “Behave,” she teased as she passed by.

Barrett laughed and detached herself from her date. “Let’s go look at the auction items,” she suggested, holding Paul’s hand.

The silent auction was laid out on long tables running the length of two walls. People could write their bid on a pad next to the article, adding the number they’d gotten when they entered the gala. Some of the donated items were in place. A gold lightship basket from Jewel in the Sea. An indigo silk shawl from Vis-a-Vis. A rainbow fleet men’s belt from Murray’s Toggery. Other donations were virtual. Two nights and days at Greydon House. Dinner for four at Le Languedoc. A twilight cruise on the tall shipLynx.

A spectacular, foot-high, topaz-hued statue of Poseidon rising from the sea.

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