Page 39 of Summer Light on Nantucket

He reached out his hand and cupped her cheek. “No. Of course you aren’t. I’ve gotten all ahead of myself. I apologize. But it’s true, Blythe, what I said about first seeing you here.”

Blythe slowly moved her head so that her lips touched the palm of his hand. She kissed him, and felt him tremble, and tears stung her eyes.

Then she pulled away from him. “Aaden, I’ll think about it. But it might take some time.”

“I’m here,” Aaden said. “I have time.”

Screams interrupted the air as a pack of adolescents swarmed over the sand around the lighthouse.

“I’ll take you home now,” Aaden told her.

He took her hand in his, and they walked together up the beach, away from the dark, lapping water, to his car.

time to see the roses

Blythe woke in the morning and allowed herself to lie there, snug beneath her blue duvet, relaxed and dreamy and in a rare poetic state of mind.

It was early, and the rising sun felt like hope. She lay idly, allowing herself to gaze lazily at the wide sweep of sky. A few clouds floated past, diaphanous, like wedding veils.

She thought that summer light on Nantucket was different from any other light in the world, because the island lay between the vast Atlantic Ocean and the much smaller Nantucket Sound. Nantucket light carried the mist of clashing waves, fumes from the ferries coming and going daily, and whirlpools of air as the gulls swooped and shrieked for food. The heart of the island was wild hilly moors stretching for miles, so the air was also filled with scents of low bush blueberries, beach plum bushes, and wind-twisted pine trees. The busy, invisible air absorbed the authentic perfume of warm earth from thewarrens of field mice, the cautious trails of deer through the brambles, and the nests of hawks and doves. Their scent joined that of coconut oil, beer fumes, spicy chips, and sizzling meats from the beaches and yards of all the homes and rose to glide in the sky.

Also, the kisses and whispers of lovers, a sweet hidden honey, drifted in the island air.

She wished she could be a bird just for an hour, swooshing through the summer sky.

“Oh, Lord,” Blythe said aloud. “I’ve gone poetic.”

She plumped her pillows and sat up, leaning against them, not ready to leave the dreamworld of her bed.

Aaden had invited her to visit Ireland. Hope and fear shot through her. She felt excited and nervous andguilty,which was ridiculous. She hadn’t gone off and left her children.

But seriously, she told herself. She couldn’t go to Ireland with Aaden for two weeks!

And yet, why not? When Bob and Teri came to stay with Celeste, the four children could stay with them and be perfectly cared for.

Although, what would Blythe feel like if the children wanted to stay in her house? True, it was where all their summer gear was stashed. True, Bob had lived here before, when they were married, but the house her grandmother had left her had always been totally, legally, hers. The thought of Teri being able to look through her drawers and closets made her feel rather sick. Although she was pretty certain that Teri wouldn’t be interested in her old lady clothing.

Her phone pinged, breaking into her thoughts.

Nick.

“I’ve had an idea,” he said when she answered the phone.

“That’s impressive,” Blythe joked. “I haven’t even had my coffee yet.”

He had a good baritone laugh. “Sandy told me you like to hike. Let’s go walk the bluff path at ’Sconset and have lunch at Claudette’s. I’ve never walked the path before. Also, I hear this is the time to see the roses.”

His deep, smooth voice made Blythe snuggle into her pillows. “This is the time to see the roses,” she echoed. “Nick, that sounds lovely.”

“I’ll pick you up at eleven?”

“Please.”

“See you then.”

Smiling, Blythe rose, padded downstairs, and made herself coffee. She went out to sit on the porch. She had so much to think about she couldn’t think at all. And it was too beautiful a day for thinking.

She heard slight noises and Daphne stepped into the doorway.

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