Page 79 of Summer Romance

“Wait, do your parents know?”

“Yes, I put together a whole pitch to explain it to them, how it would work legally as a nonprofit and with the city.All they focused on was you. Of all the things, I think you’re the thing they’re finally proud of me about. They asked about a hundred times if we’re getting married. They wanted to know what your kids think about step-grandparents.”

I am smiling at this possibility. More grandparents, more family, more Ethan. “Thank you for doing this. For everybody.”

“I did it mostly for myself.”

47

We make our way down the narrow stairs and across the terrace to the inn’s waterfront restaurant. People are still milling around and eating mini versions of Frannie’s signature sandwich. I am different and there is no way to conceal it from the people who love me. My dad sees it first and puts his hand over his heart, as if to tell it to be still. A smile takes over Frannie’s face, and she elbows Marco too hard.

Greer narrows her eyes at me, and I see the realization that something good is happening move across her face. Iris wheels Theo’s stroller through the crowd to where we are talking with Sandy and Camille. Their grief is temporarily lifted and they seem like they’re just at a party. I know this is a trap in the same way I know they’ll eventually be okay. Cliffy’s at my side with his arms around my waist. I squeeze him back and feel Ethan watching us. In this moment I am nothing but my heart.

After everyone’s left, and I’ve said goodbye to my dad, I find Ethan on the terrace holding Theo by the hand andtalking with my kids. I don’t know who I want to touch first.You can have all of it, my mother says in the wind.

“I guess we’d better get home,” I say.

“Yes,” Ethan says. “It’s been a big day.”

Greer crosses her arms. Iris looks like she might be holding her breath. “Come on, Scooter,” she says.

“Really?” he asks.

Cliffy lets out his breath. “Don’t chicken out.”

Ethan turns to me, and he’s overly formal in a way that makes me want to laugh. “These three have given me permission to ask you on a date.”

I try to contain my smile. “Is that true?” I ask them.

“Yes,” says Iris. “And he said a real restaurant. Maybe even here.”

“Well, that sounds nice,” I say. “I accept.”

“Good,” says Iris. “Because Grandpa and Libby are coming to babysit tomorrow at six.”

48

We don’t go to the inn after all because Harold’s had a mix-up with the fishmonger and all they’re serving is chicken. Instead we go to a bistro in Rockport and eat mussels and flagrantly hold hands.

He has me home by eleven after our date and furiously kisses me good night by the front door. We can’t go to his house because it’s being painted inside. We can’t go inside my house because my dad’s inside. I feel like I’m sixteen.

When it’s finally Saturday and we are alone in my very own house in my newly clean bedroom, I lie in his arms and let all of the feelings wash over me. Ethan is something I never thought possible—a partner with whom I am totally free to be myself. A summer romance that doesn’t have to end.

“How long do I have to wait to ask your kids if I can marry you?” he asks. He’s not being serious, but he is.

“Definitely a few weeks,” I say.

His phone buzzes, and I don’t want him to move. “Don’t get that,” I say, and drape my leg over his to trap him.

“I have kids,” he says. “I always have to get it.” I lie next to him as he answers questions about an event at the skate park today.

I get a text from Sandy: I don’t know how you ever did this. It’s brutal

She and Camille are next door cleaning out Phyllis’s house. They really only have the weekend to get through it together because Camille is going back to San Francisco on Monday. After that it’s all on Sandy. And me, of course.

When Ethan’s off the phone, he pulls me close and says, “I never want to get out of this bed.”

“Same,” I say. Tomorrow my kids will be home, and he won’t be here. I remind myself that he’s just down the street, and that’s so much better than Devon. “But we may need to go over and help Sandy and Camille for a bit.”

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