The Summer We Started Over, page 13
“Writers are very protective of their fiefdoms.” Dinah sank back onto the sofa. “Now. Which movie are we going to watch?”
* * *
—
For the next few days, Eddie drove Dinah around the island, showing her the Sankaty lighthouse, the ’Sconset Bluff Walk, the old mill, and in town, the Nantucket Historical Association. In the evenings, after Barrett closed her shop, the three women dined at Galley Beach or Le Languedoc, Topper’s, Brant Point Grill, or American Seasons. Dinah insisted on paying for it all, which was just fine with Eddie and Barrett. The sisters both texted their father, asking him to join them. He always replied that he was busy.
One morning, Eddie woke to find that Dinah was already up and out. Eddie poured herself a cup of coffee and went out to the back porch to watch. Dinah, in a sundress and espadrilles, was in the barn, chatting with Jeff and Paul. When she noticed Eddie, she waved and came up to the porch.
“Good morning,” Eddie greeted her.
Dinah said, “Darling, I’ve been checking out your bookstore and really, it’s so dreary, too bare. It needs some color, some comfort. You’re not selling old books, you’re selling the vision of curling up in an armchair to read an old favorite or a new book you’ve only heard about and aren’t sure you want to buy in hardback but don’t mind spending a few dollars on. You need to make the shop a place where people want to relax, stroll, dream.”
What we want is to get enough books out of the house so it looks like sane people live there, Eddie thought. She asked, “How do we do that?”
Without pausing, Dinah said, “I’ve made a list. Two lists, actually. This list is what we need to acquire. A big old rug, Persian, if possible, some armchairs, some standing lamps. Jeff and Paul are going to ask a friend to put in a new electric circuit breaker with lamp cords taped to the floor and covered with rugs so that there will be enough light for people to read by.”
“Dinah.” Eddie was no longer amused. “We can’t afford an electrician in the summer.”
Dinah waved her hand. “Never mind. I promised to pay the bill as a thank-you gift for allowing me to be your guest. Also, the men are going to build a special bookcase and paint it lavender with gold trim, and I’m donating an entire set of my books to draw people to your shop.”
“Wow, Dinah, that’s incredibly kind. But they’ll disappear quickly.”
“I know. So, I’ll send more. You know I have boxes in storage. Now. Here is my list of tag sales happening on the island. I’ve marked the days and places on my calendar. In the meantime, we’ll go to the Seconds Shop and the Thrift Shop to see what we can find.”
Eddie shook her head. “Dinah, this is so kind of you. Aren’t you planning to return to New York?”
“If you don’t mind, I thought I’d stay a little longer. I’m enjoying myself so much. Harriet Lancaster—she was at Barrett’s grand opening—invited me to speak at her book club. Also, I’ve noticed several important writers are coming to the island to give talks for fundraisers, and I don’t want to miss those.” Dinah checked the lists on her phone. “Oh, one other thing. Could you drive me to the airport? I’ve rented a car for the summer.”
Eddie swallowed. “You rented a car for the summer?”
“If you don’t mind.”
Was that anxiety making Dinah’s voice tremble?
In a flash of comprehension, Eddie saw how her family must seem to Dinah. Three people living together, working together, arguing together, sharing meals together. Dinah felt safe here, but also knew clearly that she was not part of the picture.
Maybe beneath all that glamour, Dinah yearned to belong to a family.
Eddie quickly hugged Dinah. “This is so cool! You’ll be here for the summer!”
Blushing, Dinah said, “Well, maybe not for the entire summer. We’ll see.”
“All right, come on then. Let’s go rent a car.”
At the airport, she accompanied Dinah to the rental counter. Dinah signed some papers, was given some keys, and walked out with the clerk to find her car in the rental lot.
It was a silver Mercedes.
Eddie grinned. Of course it was a silver Mercedes. She was surprised Dinah hadn’t specified one in pink. She got into her Jeep and waved to Dinah, who followed Eddie back to the farm.
* * *
—
During the first two weeks of June, families arrived on the island with their cars, housekeepers, chefs, and assistants. Other summer people arrived with an ever-changing cast of grandchildren. The luggage carts for the ferries held golf clubs, tennis rackets, boogie boards, paddleboards, fishing poles, and kayaks. The sun stayed high in the sky and the wind took a nap.
Eddie sorted through books in the mornings while Dinah wrote. In the afternoon, they drove around the island looking for treasures at tag sales. Jeff and Paul stopped by to put the finishing touches on the standing bookshelves Dinah required. Most evenings, Dinah took Eddie and Barrett, and sometimes Jeff and Paul, out to dinner. Eddie kept insisting they could cook at home, but Dinah loved being around people, and actually, it was very nice to enjoy delicious meals, fine wine, and good conversation. Eddie admitted it was also very nice not to have dishes to wash.
* * *
—
The more books Eddie and Dinah took out to the Book Barn, the more they found. Not just on top of sofas and bureaus, but under them.
The more they found, the more they wanted to keep.
Bunnicula. The Celery Stalks at Midnight.
One day, just for a change, they decided to check out the attic. They climbed the steep stairs to the large dusty room. Light shone in from windows on each end.
The first things they found were cardboard boxes marked: Sabrina’s Books.
“Your father will want to keep these,” Dinah said. “In case your mother comes back.”
Eddie snorted. “They’re divorced, Dinah. She’s never coming back.” She unfolded the flaps on the top box. “Good grief!”
“But look!” Dinah clasped her hands in front of her as if she was praying. “Victoria Holt!”
“I’ve never read her. I didn’t know Mom read her. She’s, like, outdated. We can toss all of these.”
“Are you kidding?” Dinah snatched several books from the box and held them to her chest. “The Shivering Sands? Mistress of Mellyn? The Demon Lover? Eddie, truly, you need to read her. Start with this book.” She handed Eddie Bride of Pendorric. “Just disregard your preconceptions and surrender to her.”
Eddie laughed. “You sound like a romance writer.”
“I am a romance writer, and proud of it!” Dinah sneezed. “I’ve got to get some tissues. Shall I bring us both a bottle of sparkling water?”
“Good idea.”
While Dinah carefully went down the steep stairs, Eddie opened the book Dinah had handed her. She wasn’t going to read the silly thing, but it was like opening a secret door into her mother’s life.
She read the first line of the novel.
I often marveled after I went to Pendorric that one’s existence could change so swiftly, so devastatingly.
Well. Eddie thought of Stearns.
She thought of her mother leaving them.
When Dinah returned with the water, she found Eddie on the floor, leaning against a tower of boxes, reading.
Eddie smiled at Dinah. “This certainly isn’t a self-help book.”
Dinah handed Eddie a bottle of Poland Spring. “All books are self-help books,” she said, with a smile. “Actually, I just remembered a small scene I wanted to put in my new book. I’d better go down and write before I forget it. I’ll be back up in a while.”
* * *
—
The summer deepened. They came and went according to their own schedules. After an hour of doing emails for Dinah, Eddie drove out to Bartlett’s Farm to buy farm-made casseroles, pies, and vegetables, and over to the Nantucket Meat & Fish Market to buy steaks or fish, returning to fill the kitchen with all kinds of possible meals. Barrett came home at nine and wanted to eat alone while reading a book. She’d spent the day talking with people and craved solitude. Dinah wrote in the morning and drove into town to eat and drink at one of her favorite restaurants. Most of the time, she struck up conversations with strangers. It was simple to do. She’d prop a paperback of hers up against her wineglass and read. Often, a woman stopped as she passed by.
“Oh, I love that book!” she’d say.
“Thank you,” Dinah would reply. “I wrote that book.”
The woman and her friends would join Dinah at the table and talk and drink until the moon was high.
* * *
—
One afternoon, Dinah drove her rented Mercedes convertible into town for an appointment with a hairdresser, a masseuse, and a manicurist.
Eddie went to the dining room with several wicker baskets with handles, which were easier to carry than cardboard boxes. She was determined to purge a great shadowy clump of books from beneath the table.
This seemed to be her father’s history nook. Fat tomes about the Tudors leaned against biographies of Thomas Jefferson. The Big Book of Iceland lay on top of a three-volume set about ancient Rome. Eddie gave each book a careful scrutiny. The pages were yellow, the publication dates decades old, the covers soft with dust. If she found a book about England, she kept it. Her father might want it for research.
It was just after four o’clock when she carried the first basket of books out to the barn. Jeff and Paul were there, removing the sheets and tarps that protected the furniture and rugs from dust.
Paul’s phone buzzed. He went out to lean against his truck to talk.
Jeff and Eddie were alone in the large open space.
“You guys are really done,” Eddie remarked, looking around.
“I’m not so sure. The way you keep bringing more books out here makes me think we’ll be here for eternity.”
“Would that be so bad?” Eddie asked, only half teasing.
Jeff moved toward her. His T-shirt was stained dark with sweat. He caught her gaze and held it. “You sure you should be saying things like that?”
She wanted to touch him. A shiver of pleasure ran down her back at his words. “I’ve been gone for a while,” she reminded him. “We can’t be who we were.”
Jeff’s voice grew husky. “Fine. Imagine how we could be.”
“How we could be?” Eddie dropped her hands. She stepped closer to Jeff. “You mean, like lovers?”
Jeff reached out and took Eddie’s hand. “I mean, like everything in the world.”
His hand was so large, and strong, and warm. If he took it away, Eddie thought she would faint. She was almost hyperventilating, and that was terrifying, because her body was surging way ahead of her mind.
She knew he’d never want to live in New York. She knew what was happening right now was purely physical.
Eddie stepped away. “Could we…could we just be friends for a while? I don’t think I’m ready for a serious talk.”
Jeff’s face closed down. “Eddie, I’m certainly not trying to trap you into a serious talk. For one thing, Paul will be back here in a minute. But I can’t be your good friend.” Heat radiated off Jeff.
Gravel crunched as Paul returned from his phone conversation.
“Hey, guys,” Paul said. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Not at all,” Eddie announced, more loudly than she’d intended. “I’ve got to bring out some more books.” She did an about-turn and went toward the house, realizing that hope as much as fear made her heart race.
* * *
—
There was a momentary lull at Nantucket Blues. No customers in the shop, no potential customers looking in the window. Barrett took the opportunity to Windex the shelves and place new merch where former objects had been taken down and bought. She was exhausted. Her shop was doing better than she’d expected, and she worked at night after she closed, finishing orders and catching up on paperwork. Drew had called, wanting to see her, and she’d had to refuse, promising she’d see him once she caught her breath.
She’d just gone behind the counter to straighten the bundle of bags beneath the cash register when she saw Drew walking toward her shop. A lovely young girl was with him. Too young, Barrett was sure, to be his girlfriend.
They entered the store. The girl went ooooh. Most women did when they entered the paradise of blue.
Barrett smiled. “Drew! How are you?”
“I’m good. I’ve got a week off and frankly, I can’t stop thinking of you. Could I take you out somewhere? Maybe a day at the beach, maybe dinner.” Before Barrett could answer, he said, “I know you’ve been busy. I brought you the solution to your problem. Janny, come over here.” He put his arm over the shoulders of a girl who looked much like Drew. “Barrett, this is my sister, Janny. Janny this is Barrett.”
“Hi, Janny. Nice to meet you.” Barrett couldn’t understand how Drew’s pretty sister could be the solution to her problem. What problem?
Drew said, “Janny is nineteen years old. She’s a sophomore at Wheaton. She has worked in retail several times. She has a résumé and references from her former employers.”
Barrett frowned. “Okay.”
Janny spoke up. “What Drew means is that I could work for you part-time. He said you’re in this shop eleven hours a day, at least, and you haven’t had one solid hour to go to the beach with him. Or dinner. I was going to look for a job on the island anyway, and I’d love to work for you. I’m good with customers, and I know my way around a cash register.”
Barrett’s eyes widened. This might actually be the answer to her prayers. She liked the look of the young woman. If she worked only part-time, Barrett certainly had the money to pay her and Barrett would have more time to focus on orders and spreadsheets. “Could you work in the evenings?”
“Absolutely,” Drew said.
“Hey!” Janny laughed and punched her brother’s shoulder. “Absolutely,” she agreed.
ten
At last, they were ready.
Paul had made a handsome wooden sign to hang over the barn doors.
Book Barn.
Inside, track lighting hung from the rafters, to be used when it rained. Old-fashioned standing lamps had been set around, near the bookshelves and bins, their soft golden glow illuminating book titles. Two ancient, cracked leather chairs rested on a threadbare Persian rug with a low table between them and a fake Tiffany lamp on the table, illuminating piles of books. An old lectern had been placed near the door, so the shopkeeper—whoever it was on any given day—could greet customers, and slightly behind the lectern was a table holding a computer and a cash box. From the back of the barn, an electric fan rested on a pile of books, its hum adding to the general sense of comfort and rest. Paul and Jeff had hung framed scenes of the ocean and the town above the bookcases and bins. Against one wall of the barn stood a long bookcase, painted lavender, with gold embellishments, and this held Dinah Lavender’s books. Along the opposite wall were low book bins with children’s books and two small chairs for reading, a low table, a pile of coloring paper, several sticker books, and coloring books to keep kids busy while their parents browsed.
With the barn doors open and the sun slanting in, the spines and covers of all the books glowed like precious stones.
The hardest part had been pricing the used books. The sisters spent days squabbling. Should paperbacks be fifty cents? Who even remembered fifty cents? Everyone used their phones to buy things, or they had some paper money in their pockets. Also, should some books be more expensive than others? Surely a hardback of The Fondue Cookbook should cost more (or less?) than the paperback of James Michener’s Centennial.
It was Dinah who stepped in to solve the problem. “The idea is to get rid of the books, not to make money, correct? Eddie, you’ll be running the store and I’ll help. Barrett has to be in Nantucket Blues. All we have to do is get rolls of quarters from the bank. Price the paperbacks fifty cents and the hardbacks one dollar. Easy.”
“Good idea. You’re so smart, Dinah!”
“Let me make a sign,” Dinah decided. “I’ll use the crayons.” She slid into one of the small chairs at the children’s table and set to work.
Eddie had been busy on social media. Finally, she announced, The Grand Opening of the Book Barn, book signing with romance author Dinah Lavender.
The bookstore opened on a Saturday morning, at ten o’clock. Barrett had already gone to her shop. Eddie wore a cute sundress and Dinah was sensational in a lavender sundress and Hermès sunglasses. William kept out of sight, but Eddie glimpsed him from the kitchen window. Poor Duke had to be shut inside. The dog would have been so excited he’d have barked himself into a coma. But the horse was curious, running up to the fence, neighing, snorting, tossing her head in disdain, and running away again.
At ten minutes till ten, Eddie opened the wide barn doors. The shop looked like the set of an especially interesting play.
By ten-thirty, not one person had come down the gravel drive to check out the barn.
“It’s all right,” Eddie reassured Dinah. “People move slowly on the weekends.”
“It’s not all right,” Dinah complained. “Readers should be lining up to meet me and get my autograph.”
At ten thirty-five, Dinah stood up from her chair carefully situated in front of her gorgeous bookcase of Dinah Lavender books and put her special lavender (purple, really) Sharpie on the small table in front of her.
“This is a waste of time. Buzz my cell if anyone comes.” She tossed her head and started to leave.
As if by a signal, a parade of cars came crackling down the drive. Three; no, four; no, five cars.
