The Summer We Started Over, page 15
Dinah is so smart. It seems she knows everything. Dad knows almost as much, but he can’t seem to finish his book. A person must need some kind of insane self-confidence to write a book to release out into the world for other people to read.
Dad has the desire to write a book, but maybe not the ability? I worry for him. He puts so much importance on the book that no one has asked for.
That makes me think I could not write a book. I love words. I love stories. I love the rhythm and astonishment of sentences. I’m obsessed with books and one thing I know for certain is that if you have children, it is wrong to care for something more than for the children. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to lose sleep, listen to wailing children, wade through a world of dirty diapers and constant demands. The idea of loving a child terrifies me. My deepest desire is to write, but when I watch Dinah, who seems to summon words from the air like magic, and my father, who tortures himself over words, I fear I don’t have it in me to become a writer.
* * *
—
Saturday, Drew flew in from Boston and took Barrett to dinner at the Chanticleer. As they wound along the Polpis road to ’Sconset, Drew set the radio to the big band channel, and Barrett leaned back in the luxuriously soft leather seat and relaxed.
She’d chosen to wear a simple little navy dress with only a hint of cleavage. Her hair had been bleached by the sun from caramel to blond, and she wore small emerald earrings that brought out the green of her eyes. A touch of lipstick. No blush, no eye shadow. Everything simple, elegant. Drew wore a madras blazer and no tie. Leather loafers without socks. Barrett had sworn she’d never date a man who wore loafers without socks, but she quietly changed her mind.
Barrett felt people looking at her and Drew as they walked beneath the rose arbor and into the restaurant’s garden. She felt a slight shiver of pleasure, knowing that the two of them were the perfect summer couple, young, good-looking, well-dressed, sexy. She was delighted that their table faced the rose garden, and it was sweet to sit in the handsome room after all her days and hours of working.
“Let’s have a glass of champagne to start,” Drew suggested.
Barrett said, “Lovely,” and stifled a gasp when he ordered a champagne that cost forty-five dollars a glass.
“An excellent choice, sir,” the waiter said.
“We’ll have wine with our meal,” Drew told Barrett, looking deep into her eyes. “First, I want to celebrate meeting you.”
Barrett smiled, even though she knew she’d tell Eddie and they’d fall all over laughing because, wow, that was such a cheesy thing to say.
But Drew seemed sincerely interested in Barrett. He asked her about her shop and how Janny was doing. Over their scallops and salmon (and sinfully expensive white wine), Barrett told Drew about her family, making them all seem eccentric in an intellectual and amusing way, not mentioning her brother. Drew told her she was lucky to have such an interesting family.
Drew talked about his parents, always traveling to their houses off the coast of Greece or in Jackson Hole. He was very close to his sister and considered himself her protector because they so seldom saw their parents.
“I’m really glad,” Drew continued, “that Janny’s working with you. You’re a good role model for her. She’s doing well, right?”
“She’s great. She’s great with our customers.”
After dinner, they walked up and down the charming small-town streets of ’Sconset. Everywhere, roses were blooming, tumbling in the hundreds over the low roofs and along the picket fences. When they came to a private grassy lane between two obviously empty cottages, Drew gently pulled Barrett into his arms, kissing her slowly and thoroughly. She leaned back against the shingled wall, closing her eyes and—and seeing Paul’s face.
What? Barrett thought.
Drew stopped kissing her. “Are you okay?”
Reluctantly, Barrett pushed him away. “Drew, I have to go home. I have to get up early tomorrow.”
He nuzzled her neck. “I know. I know.” He cradled her face in his hands. “You’re so delicious.”
She accepted another heated kiss before easing away from him. “I really have to go now.”
They returned to his car. He held her hand as he drove, and when they reached her house, he hugged her against him.
“Soon,” he whispered in her ear.
“Soon,” Barrett echoed, not certain of what that even meant.
eleven
From the Fourth of July on, the population exploded from twenty thousand people to sixty thousand. The sun was bright, the beaches were golden, the bars and restaurants packed, and anyone who worked fell onto their bed, exhausted.
During the hot summer days, Eddie was busy in a slow, luxurious way. She spent hours proofreading Dinah’s latest draft. She wasn’t working full-time for the writer, but they both agreed that Dinah needed a proofreader and she was coming up to a deadline.
Eddie also ran the Book Barn. When no customers were around, she hurried into the house, snatched up a pile of books, and carried them back outside to fill the gaps.
Because there were gaps. People bought the most amazing books. A biography of Hegel. What? Who was Hegel? Who cared? And how did you pronounce his name? Whistling While Whittling. Eddie actually checked inside the wide, flat book, thinking the title was some kind of code for spies or pornographers. Nope. It was for real. Four versions of Little Women. She kept one but put three out for sale, even though it made her sad. One had been her mother’s, one someone gave Eddie, one Eddie gave Barrett, another one Eddie had given Barrett that Stearns had scribbled all over with crayons. Eddie knew she should just throw it away, but she didn’t. It sat on a shelf in the barn, where she knew no one would buy it, but it reminded her of Stearns.
Hours went by when no one came to browse. During those quiet times, Eddie prepared that evening’s dinner, or tidied the house, or sat in the barn and read.
One evening, Barrett was still in her shop, Dinah was at dinner with friends, and William was at a lecture at the library.
Eddie was lounging on pillows on the wide wicker porch swing, reading a book. She heard a noise, glanced up, and there was Jeff, walking around the corner of the house, with Duke following, wagging his tail.
“Hey,” Eddie said. She sat up and set her book on the small side table.
“Hey, yourself. I hope I’m not disturbing anything. I was on my way home and thought I’d stop by and see if you’d like a beer.” He held up a six-pack. “Don’t worry. I’m here strictly as a friend.”
“Nice,” Eddie said. She was slightly flustered—no, she admitted to herself, she was very flustered, almost giddy to see Jeff. He wore carpenter’s pants and an ancient Rolling Stones T-shirt. He had wood dust in his hair and a cut on his hand and a sensational sunburn on his cheeks and nose. An odor of wood and sun and cinnamon drifted away from him, and when he smiled, his teeth were snow white against his sun-chapped lips.
“Have a seat.” Eddie gestured to the chair next to her.
Jeff set the six-pack on the table, wrestled a couple free from the plastic rings, handed her one and popped open one for himself.
“Man,” Jeff said. “I’m tired.”
Eddie studied him. The urge to step off the swing and throw herself on his lap was strong, but she stifled it. “Your lips are chapped.”
“Ha!” Jeff laughed. “Do you want me to apply a little tube of lip balm while I’m carrying a two-by-four up the ladder?”
“Maybe not my best idea,” Eddie agreed. “How’s your house coming along?”
“I’m ahead of schedule with it, actually. These long summer days allow me to hammer a few nails early in the morning and again after work with the crew.”
“You look tired,” Eddie told him.
“Really?” Jeff smiled and cocked his head. “I look tired? What do you think, is it a good look for me?” He flexed his arm.
“I have to admit, your biceps are impressive.” Eddie wanted to reach out and hold his hand. Her brain flashed: Get hold of yourself, girl.
Jeff’s eyes darkened. Eddie was washed over with desire.
She grabbed the first safe topic she could think of and blurted, “Barrett’s shop is doing really well!”
Jeff gave her a sideways, knowing smile. “Tell me.”
Eddie talked about her sister, and then about her father, and then about Dinah. Jeff talked about his co-workers and his parents. Duke sat at his feet, gazing up at him with adoring eyes. Duchess approached the fence and muttered sweet nothings at Jeff.
Honestly, Eddie thought, does the man give off a come kiss me scent?
After that, Jeff came over at the end of every day—his end of the day was after nine o’clock when the sun set and the builders couldn’t see to work—and they sat on the porch drinking beers and talking. There was always something to talk about. For some mysterious reason, this summer cars and SUVs were slamming into trees and buildings and flipping on their sides, or upside down, like turtles helpless in their shells. Were people going too fast? Was that even possible on Nantucket, where the highest speed limit was forty-five miles per hour for about ten miles? Drew Barrymore had eaten at Millie’s in Madaket. Bill Belichick had hired Captain Tom for a day of deep-sea fishing. Sharks were circling the island.
Sometimes Dinah would join them on the porch for a chat. She spent much of her day at the library, writing, and she often ate lunch and dinner at one of the many restaurants in town. She scraped her hair back in a bun, wore no makeup, and walked around town in a T-shirt, sneakers, and a baseball cap, and it worked. No one recognized her, and she found it amusing and slightly disconcerting. Occasionally, she would agree to speak at the library or at a local book club, and then she wore one of her summer dresses and “just a few” diamonds in a necklace or hair clip.
William and Dinah seldom crossed paths. William woke early, with Barrett. They had breakfast, Barrett left for her shop, and William secluded himself in his study to write. Eddie and Dinah woke at seven-thirty, had breakfast, and went their separate ways, Eddie to the Book Barn, Dinah to town. In her rented Mercedes convertible, she zipped into town, often returning home with bags filled with fruit and expensive cookies for everyone.
* * *
—
Saturday night, Jeff didn’t come over. He didn’t text her to let her know he wasn’t coming over. He’d come every night for the last two weeks and Eddie felt hurt by his absence, even though she knew she shouldn’t.
She made a meal of cold sandwiches and salad but wasn’t hungry. She felt so down, so bored. She decided she could use a little playtime. Their father was in his study. Dinah was eating dinner out with a new friend. Barrett had closed her shop for the day and lay on the sofa with her feet on a pillow.
“Let’s go to the Box,” Eddie suggested.
Barrett yawned and stretched her arms. “Really? I don’t know if I have the energy to stand up.”
“Maybe not, but I’m sure you have the energy to dance.” Eddie tickled her sister’s bare feet. “Come on.”
They quickly slipped into jean shorts and tank tops, pulled their hair up into high ponytails because they knew the bar would be hot, left a note for their father, and raced out the door.
The place was booming when they arrived. They walked into a pulsing wall of noise, went straight to the bar, and ordered margaritas. A country-western band was playing. Everyone was dancing, shouting, flirting, laughing. Barrett was quickly surrounded by people who’d met her at the dress shop or the restaurant. Eddie was ordering her second drink when Barrett pulled her out on the crowded floor.
“You’re the one who dragged me here,” Barrett yelled. “You have to dance!”
“Let’s do this!” Eddie shouted back, and let the music take her.
The cover band was playing Aerosmith, music that was impossible to stay still to. Eddie and Barrett danced, screaming, letting go. Eddie felt Jeff’s presence before she saw him. The hair on her arms stood up like an early warning signal.
“Hey.” Jeff wore jeans and a T-shirt that read Nantucket or Nowhere.
“Hey,” Eddie said back. It was too loud on the dance floor, so they didn’t talk.
Barrett disappeared into the crowd. Jeff took Eddie’s hand.
“Are you here with someone?” Eddie asked.
“Why?” Jeff pulled her to him.
“You didn’t come by this evening!” She bent her head back to see his face. He was so tall. She’d always loved it that he was so tall.
“So, you missed me?” His smile was mischievous.
Eddie struggled to think of a witty comeback, and gave in to the truth.
“I did.”
Jeff’s eyes darkened with emotion.
They moved together naturally, a perfect pair. By the end of the evening, her arms were around his neck, their bodies were touching, and she nestled her face into his shoulder. They started kissing, and they couldn’t stop kissing until someone knocked Jeff’s shoulder.
“Hey, you two, take it outside.”
They held hands as they elbowed their way through the crowd to the door. Outside, they leaned against the wall and kissed hungrily until Jeff pulled away.
He said, “Eddie. We need to talk. Let’s go to my car.”
They ran to his truck and climbed in. Jeff reached for Eddie, but she pushed him back.
“Wait, Jeff. What are we doing?”
His eyes were dark, intense. “I don’t know but I don’t want to stop.”
“But I’m probably returning to New York with Dinah. This summer with my father is temporary.”
“Don’t think about later. Think about right now.”
Jeff’s voice was low and solemn. Outside, it began to rain, thunder cracking through the sky, rain suddenly spilling out over the truck, the parking lot, the island. It enclosed them in their own small world, and already the windows were steaming up.
“Right now,” Eddie whispered, and moved toward Jeff.
Right now was all that mattered.
Rain flooded down around them, blanking the outside world from them as they kissed and touched and pressed into each other. It was urgent, intense, instinctive.
It was Jeff who pulled away.
“Not here,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Not in a truck in a parking lot.”
Eddie shivered. “Jeff, why do I want you so much?”
Jeff was quiet as he organized his clothing. When he turned to face Eddie, his eyes were serious. “Because I want you so much. We should be together.”
“What do you mean?” Eddie slid the strap of her tank top back up to her shoulder.
“I mean stay here. Marry me. Let’s have a life together.”
“Oh, Jeff…” Eddie’s heart was so full it almost prevented her breathing. “Jeff…”
“I know. I know. You don’t want to have children.”
Eddie listened carefully to his words. When she replied, it was as if a mysterious code came clear to her.
“It has been all about that, Jeff. It was what I needed. Or what I thought I needed. But it’s also been about helping Dinah, and no, I certainly don’t see her as a mother substitute. She’s a writer, and that’s what interests me. Books, and writing.”
Jeff nodded. “Okay. Let’s keep going with that. You spent a year in New York, working for a publisher. Then you spent a year here, on the island.”
“Right.” She spoke slowly, and felt strangely anxious—or was she excited?
“You’ve spent the last two years working for a writer.”
“Right.”
Jeff asked, “What do you want to do next?”
She couldn’t look at him. She had never said it out loud before. She whispered, “Maybe I want to write a novel?”
Jeff smiled. “Maybe you do.”
Eddie took a deep breath. “Well, that was a terrifying moment.”
“Why?”
“How can I write a book? I mean, I know I can do that, but there’s no guarantee it would get published.”
“No one can guarantee anything,” Jeff countered quietly. “That doesn’t mean you can’t try. If we were married, you could write. You could give yourself, let’s say, one year, to do nothing but write.”
Eddie gave him a wary look. “Could we be together, married, in New York?” She knew she was being contrary. “We could get an apartment together, and I could work part-time for Dinah, and spend, let’s say, the morning, writing. You could work in construction there.”
Jeff frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that. Damn, Eddie I don’t want to live in New York, or any city. I want to stay on Nantucket. I thought you knew that.”
“I do know that,” Eddie said. She pulled her hands away from him and turned to face the front. The rain was slowing now. She could see other people running out from the Box to their cars. It was after one in the morning.
She waited for him to say he’d consider living in New York.
Jeff didn’t speak.
Eddie said softly, “I should go home.”
“Okay.” Jeff started the truck engine and pulled out of the parking lot. “I guess we have a lot to think about.”
Eddie nodded. “I guess we do.”
* * *
—
Barrett’s shop was quiet in the morning. She restaged her windows, setting out cool blue jewelry and a set of glasses, pitcher, and matching ruffled apron all in turquoise with white polka dots. Sunburned island guests drifted inside. She and Janny were busy receiving, unpacking, and checking invoices for blue sun hats, sunglasses, bracelets, and flip-flops patterned with seashells.
While they worked, Janny chattered away cheerfully, mostly telling Barrett how wonderful Drew was, such a kind, caring big brother who had always helped Janny out of a tough spot. Whenever Janny got into an argument with their parents, Drew took Janny’s side, stood up for her, argued with her parents until they finally gave in or gave up. When she almost drowned at Surfside, Drew had rescued her. When she’d got deathly drunk the first time she tried alcohol, Drew had taken care of her.
