Page 30 of One Happy Summer

“What brought you here?” Presley asks.

“My husband, Keith,” my mom says, a sorrow-filled smile spreading across her lips. “I’d given up on love and all that after I divorced Briggs’s dad. But then I met Keith, and he swept me off my feet. He’s from the island, and so he convinced me to move here.”

Presley must not notice the solemn look on my mom’s face, because she looks to me and then back at my mom. “Did he . . . have to work tonight?”

“Daddy passed away three years ago,” Scout says.

Both my mom and I look at Scout, who, up until this moment, hadn’t been able to say that to anyone without breaking into tears. But she looks fine right now, her lips pulled into a straight line, her eyes bright and dry, her expression calm and composed.

My mom clears her throat, unable to hold back her own feelings as her eyes shine under the pendant light hanging above the dining room table. “It was a heart attack,” she finally says.

Presley looks to me with big eyes, nonverbally asking me why I hadn’t told her this. It wasn’t that I was purposefully keeping it from her—it was just never part of the conversation. We didn’t talk all that much about me on Saturday night except for superficial things. Favorite books, favorite movies, that kind of thing. There was no diving into the nitty-gritty of my past because we just never went there. And also, I didn’t want to.

“I’m so sorry,” Presley says, her voice almost a whisper.

“Oh, it is what it is,” my mom says, dismissing the sentiment with a shake of her head. She’s trying to keep it in, but her words come out wobbly. I’ve never been married, but I’m assuming you don’t ever get over the loss of a spouse, especially one you loved very much.

And my mom did love Keith, even if he and I didn’t always see eye to eye. My relationship with him wasn’t bad—it just wasn’t all that good, either. Still, I miss him, especially for my mom and for Scout, who was only eleven when he died.

My mom takes a big breath. “Okay, let’s talk about something lighter, shall we?” Her head bobs up and down as she looks around the table.

“Well, I love the bookshop,” Presley says, and that’s the perfect topic change, as my mom’s sad eyes instantly turn to heart ones.

“Thank you. I’ve loved running it. It doesn’t make much money, but we’re staying afloat for now. It did help when there was a rumor Presley James had been in the store.”

“And we can spread the rumor again after she leaves,” Scout says.

“Perfect,” says Presley.

“Oh!” Scout says, her loud voice reverberating off the walls. “Maybe we can do a photoshoot of you in the bookshop that we can hang all around the room! Like different poses of you with the books and stuff.” Her eyes are wide, full of ideas.

I give Presley my best apologizing expression. It’s shrugging shoulders and downturned lips, a silent plea to forgive my nutty family.

Presley just smiles at Scout. “I’m sure we can do something like that.”

“So, Presley,” my mom says. “Has Briggsy here given you a tour of the island?”

“I haven’t,” I tell her. “Not yet.”

I feel Presley’s gaze on mine. “Briggsy?” she asks. I can tell by just her tone, not even having to look at her, that she will be using that later.

“I’ll take you on a tour,” Scout excitedly offers.

“So you can parade her around the town and introduce her to your friends?” I ask.

Scout smiles. “I said I’d keep her secret, but you know if we accidentally run into people . . .”

“No,” I say, emphatically. “I’ll figure out a way to show her around the island so we have less chance of running into people.” How I’ll do that is a mystery at the moment.

“But you have to work at the bookshop, so it should be me,” Scout says, giving me a smug grin.

“I’ll work at the shop so Briggs can show you the island,” my mom pipes in. I think she might be back to imagining weddings and babies.

The fact that she’s offering bodes well, though. I’d told Presley I’d give her a fun summer but hadn’t really thought out the logistics of how I was going to actually do that, since I’m supposed to be working at the shop so I can stay in the apartment for free and give my mom a break. I didn’t think the details through because I didn’t expect it to really happen.

“That way, I can make sure I spread the rumor that you’re not really here to people in the bookshop,” my mom says.

“I really appreciate it,” Presley says.

---