Page 6 of Paging Dr. Summers

I took one and cracked it in the bowl. Of course a piece of the shell went in. Ugh.

“Honey, that happens all the time,” Eden assured me while she easily fished it out. “Just relax. You’re among friends. Tell me what you do for a living.” She was obviously trying to put me at ease.

“I’m a DJ. Well, I was. I had to quit my job so I could come here. But it’s good because it will give me time to apply for a position in a bigger market and focus on my podcast calledThe Babbling Brooke Show. That was the name of my radio show too. Fitting, right?” I teased.

“I think it’s perfect. It has a great ring to it.” Eden handed me another egg. “What do you talk about on your podcast?”

“Mostly classic rock and the stories behind the artists and their songs.” It was basically what I had done on my radio show, but I went more in depth and got more personal.

“I’ll have to check it out. I love music. Although not as much as my brother.”

“Oh, uh, your brother likes music?” I cracked the egg more carefully this time and thankfully didn’t leave any of the shell behind.

“In high school, he had a garage band. He was the lead singer and played the guitar. He and his friends thought they were going to be the next Nickelback ... You know, when people still liked Nickelback.”

“Really?” I had a hard time picturing it. I mean, he did have analluring speaking voice, so maybe it shouldn’t have surprised me. But he seemed too uptight to be in a rock band. Or maybe he just hated me. It was probably the latter.

“Oh, yeah, he thought he was the height of cool. Of course, all my friends thought so too. He was so full of himself.” She rolled her eyes, but her playful tone said they were good memories for her too.

“Did he ever play any gigs?”

“Only if you count my friend Brynn’s sweet sixteen party.”

“That’s kind of fun. Does he still sing and play the guitar?”

Eden shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s a shame. He’s talented, but you didn’t hear that from me. Okay, next is the brown sugar.” She slid over a ceramic container.

“What else is on your bucket list?” Sophie asked.

I grabbed a measuring cup. “Oh, uh, well, lots of things. Have a bonfire on the beach, stargaze, go camping, paddleboard, zip-line, make a lifelong friend, dance in the rain, play beach volleyball—which I’m terrible at, by the way.”

Eden and Sophie laughed.

“I’m also supposed to get a tattoo, discover something about myself I don’t already know, eat dessert for dinner for an entire week. That’s one I’m really looking forward to.” I grinned. “Then there’s paint a painting and help someone every day.”

I purposely skipped skinny-dipping. I wasn’t sure if Sophie knew what that was, and even if she did, I wasn’t sure Eden would appreciate me mentioning it. No need to frighten them further by alluding to the fact that one of these nights, hopefully when no one was awake, I was going to venture into the lake naked. That soundedrealneighborly.

“And of course, have a summer fling.” My cheeks burned bright.

“What’s a summer fling?” Sophie asked.

Oh, jeez. I was an idiot.

Thankfully, Eden didn’t seem bothered that I’d mentioned it, or by Sophie’s question. “A summer fling is when you only date someone for the summer,” she answered.

“My mom always said that a summer romance is magical, and the best things come from it,” I added. She wouldn’t tell me what she meant by that. I assume Mom had a summer fling at some point andsomething amazing came from it. Whatever it was, it must have left a lasting impression on her. I hoped for something just as wonderful, but at this rate, I wasn’t holding my breath.

“You want to date my uncle Logan for the summer?” Sophie tittered.

I dropped the measuring cup, but thankfully Eden had quick reflexes and caught it.

“Uh ... no ... I didn’t mean for him to think that.” Although I could admit I found him extremely attractive. But it was obvious he was the last man in Aspen Lake meant to be my summer fling. I honestly wasn’t even sure I would be able to cross that item off the list. It seemed like something that needed to happen naturally, and I definitely wouldn’t be blurting it out to anyone again. It mortified me that I had—I’d just gotten so flustered in the ER.

“Oh.” Sophie sounded bummed. “I thought maybe you could help him not be so sad.”

“Why is he sad?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Eden stared thoughtfully at the door he was hiding behind. “My sister-in-law, Erica,” she whispered, “died last year in a freak parasailing accident while she was on a girls’ trip in Costa Rica.”

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