Page 4 of The Edge of Summer
“I’m meeting the new tenant tomorrow morning,” Clara says when she returns, propping an elbow on the gleaming surface of the bar.
I tense. “New tenant?”
She nods. “The pink house. She issonice! And she has a younger brother and sister.” She keeps talking, going on about this tenant, completely oblivious to my growing annoyance.
“When were you planning to mention that Muriel moved out?”
Along with Dockside, and the bed and breakfast they run out of our childhood home, our parents own a string of brightly-coloured houses on Hawberry Lane. Mom and Dadhave their hands full with the bed and breakfast, so Clara has taken it upon herself to manage the rental properties on top of her duties at the restaurant. For most of my life, the pink house has been occupied by a sweet older woman named Muriel. As far as I knew, it still was.
My sister blinks. “Um, right now? She decided that she wanted to be closer to her grandkids and they both live on the mainland now. She left last week.”
I scowl. “You should’ve told mebeforeyou drew up the new lease.”
Now it’s Clara’s turn to scowl. “Why? So you could think of a million stupid reasons why she’s not good enough to rent from us?”
Her words make me sound like a judgmental asshole. Hell, maybe I am, but you can’t do a job like mine without it eroding some of the trust you have in the world—in people. I’m cautious on a good day, but with my family, I take no chances. I already made that mistake once.
“So I could be aware of who’s going to be living in the house our parents own for who knows how long.”
It’s not as if the island doesn’t see an influx of strangers. Come summertime, when tourist season is at its peak, we get people from all over. But the rental Clara is talking about isn’t a vacation spot—it’s long-term. This new tenant, whoever she is, is planning to stick around.
Clara’s eyes roll again. “I suppose you also won’t like the fact that I’m planning to offer her a job.”
“Clara,” I scold. “Do you even really know this woman?”
She points a finger at me. “Don’t you dare patronize me, Lucas Bowman. You forget that I know all the ways tomake you cry mercy. Keep it up and I’ll put my skills to good use.”
For now, I drop the subject, because my food is about to be ready and I honestly wouldn’t put it past my sister to spit in it.
As I eat, the customers begin to shift. The leisurely pace from before is lost for a time as more boats dock at the marina and their passengers traipse through the doors looking for a quick bite. Then my favourite customer of all comes barrelling in.
“Clary!”
At the sound of her nickname, my sister rounds the bar and crouches just as a forty-pound ball of energy, disguised in dark curls and a blue polka dot dress, crashes into her. My sister laughs as she falls back on her ass, her arms tight around Abbie’s back.
“My favourite niece!” Clara says with a squeal.
Following behind Abbie, with much less enthusiasm, is Clara’s twin. Abbie pulls out of Clara’s arms and sticks her tongue out at him.
“I win, Daddy!” she taunts.
Gabe grins. “You’re too fast, Princess.”
Gabe slides onto a stool, leaving one open between us for Abbie. He rubs a hand over his tired face. It seems running around after his daughter has finally caught up to my brother. In this moment, he looks much older than his twenty-eight years.
“Rough day?” I ask.
Gabe sighs. “She woke upfourtimes last night, yet she’s full of energy while I’m dead on my feet.”
I frown. “The nightmares again?”
He shakes his head, a confused frown on his face. “No, she hasn’t had those in months. It’s just one of those phases where she thinks she doesn’t need to sleep.”
As Clara lifts our niece onto her stool, I’m reminded of the argument we were in the middle of. I turn back to Gabe. “Tell her it was a bad idea to rent out the pink house andhirethe new tenant without consulting me first.”
Clara butts in before he can respond. “Ugh, this again. Gabriel, please tellChief Tight-assthat I’m a big girl who knows what she’s doing. I run a successful restaurant and manage all our parents’ properties—I’m not stupid.”
Abbie points a finger at her aunt. “Ooo, Clary, you said a bad word!”
