The Summer We Started Over, page 17
* * *
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Eddie decided she’d had enough with the lugging books from the house in boxes or bags or baskets or her arms. She dragged one of the family’s old wheelie suitcases, filled it with books, and bumped it out of the house, down the steps, over the drive, and into the Book Barn. In the past few weeks, she’d learned what hours and days brought the most customers and what kinds of books people bought. Of course, anything by Dinah Lavender went fast, and Dinah was having a few cartons of her books sent from her storage unit. It was fun to watch people getting excited over a book, and as the house emptied out, it was opening up like a flower in the summer.
For most of the day, Eddie was alone in the barn, and she’d developed a very enjoyable habit.
She read. She read for hours, as if each book was a passport and opening the book meant entering another country.
Some were duplicates of her father’s. Some had been her mother’s. Summer by Edith Wharton. A Mother and Two Daughters by Gail Godwin. September by Rosamunde Pilcher. Eddie kept a cooler by the counter, filled it with ice each morning, and set a pitcher of iced tea inside, along with an egg salad sandwich or a few bars of chocolate. During the heat of the day, when most people were at the beach, Eddie curled up in the old leather chair, opened a book, and read while shadows slowly moved across the room. When anyone drove up the driveway, the shells crackled beneath the tires, and Eddie would lift her head and be slightly surprised to see what was around her: the old barn, cases of books, her cellphone. The world she inhabited while she read the book would quickly vanish, not all at once, but slowly, like the pupil of an eye shrinking shut, like a door slowly closing.
Jeff often stopped by during his lunch break. He’d bring takeout from Faregrounds or a food truck, and Eddie would make a cold pitcher of iced tea with sprigs of mint. It was always good to sit in the barn with him, casually talking about their day as they ate and relaxed, but it was magical when it rained. Eddie would have pulled the barn door mostly closed. No one would come out in the rain to look at used books. Jeff would run from his truck to Eddie, the rain soaking his shirt and arms so that when he entered the barn and pressed Eddie against the wooden wall and kissed her, the cold made her shiver and she would cling to him until they were both warm.
They didn’t make love in the barn. They didn’t want a customer, or worse, Eddie’s father, to rush in out of the rain and catch them wrapped around each other. But those moments together led to a different kind of making love. As they talked, an intimacy grew around them, so powerful that often, after sharing a secret, they sat in silence for a long time, giving each secret its worth.
Eddie was the one with the saddest confidences. One day she talked truthfully about her mother, and as she described her to Jeff, she felt the sadness lighten.
“No families are perfect.” Jeff smiled ruefully. “Jared, my older, perfect brother, the Army Ranger, was crazy mean when he grew up. If something made him angry, he’d slam his fist into the wall. Broke several walls that way. He’s four years older than I am, and about seventy pounds heavier. We fought all the time. He was bigger, but I was slippery. Our parents called us the Gorilla and the Eel. The thing is, even though our parents told him to leave me alone, I couldn’t leave him alone. I wanted to win just one fight. So, I started fights all the time.” He grinned at a memory. “We broke the coffee table.”
Eddie had to ask. “Did you ever win?”
“Are you kidding?” Jeff broke into a laugh. “I was Winnie-the-Pooh to his Godzilla. They had to send him away to high school. He was on the football team, and my parents thought he’d be an athletic coach, but Jared also made straight As in all his classes. That’s why he was accepted into the Army Rangers. It was a perfect fit for him. When he comes home, he’s nicer than he ever was when we were kids.”
“I told you that my brother died,” Eddie said, and her chest tightened as she spoke. “I didn’t tell you everything. Stearns was part of our gang when we were kids. We were close, all of us. Barrett and me, and our next door neighbor Dove, who we loved, and Stearns. Stearns was super smart and didn’t even finish high school, but went to work for a computer company in Troy.” Her voice cracked as the grief returned full force, as heavy as when he first died, even heavier, because she had gone through so many days of life without him. “I miss him so much.”
Jeff didn’t speak. He kept his hand on her arm, being there for her, being a witness, understanding her sorrow.
Eddie wiped her face. “And Dove had his baby, but we’ve never seen him. It was all so complicated, it happened so fast.”
Jeff said, “Tell me.”
Eddie nodded. She told him about Dove, her father going to prison, Dove’s drinking, Stearns rescuing her, Stearns working at a computer company, the baby, the motorcycle accident.
Eddie gulped back her tears and tried to calm down. But the sorrow broke through. “Why hasn’t Dove ever brought the baby to see us? For us to see him? His name is Bobby.”
“Where is she?” Jeff asked.
“She’s living with her aunt and uncle in Colorado. She sends a photo at Christmas. Just a photo, and the little boy is three years old.”
“Could you call her and ask her to visit?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know.” Eddie faced Jeff, knowing she looked ragged and wretched, and no one had ever seen her this exposed before, and if this made him leave her, then he was meant to leave her, because her sorrow and fear were part of her and always would be.
Jeff said, “I love you, Eddie.”
She pushed herself away. “No, wait. You know I read all the time, and you know I might even write a novel, or try to. I think I spend so much time in books because it’s the only way I can control my world, even for a while. I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a wife and mother. Look at my mother. She ran away. And my father hides in books, too. He ran away, too, kind of.”
Jeff said, “No. Your father moved here to give his daughters a new world. New friends, new hopes for the future. He gave up so much, a teaching position at a prestigious college, your beloved home and town and friends. He didn’t run away. He helped you both start over. Look at Barrett and Nantucket Blues.”
Eddie caught her breath, absorbing his words. “Barrett is brave,” she said.
“Yes, Barrett is brave, but she’s also clever, energetic, and sure of herself. And you went into one of the most complicated cities in the world and worked with a world-famous writer. That took some courage, too.”
“I suppose…I never thought of it that way.”
“Eddie, I’m honored that you confided in me. I’m sorry you’ve had so much grief in your life. And I can’t promise I’ll give you a life without grief, but I’m willing to try. I want to be with you.” He paused, then added, “And you don’t have to answer now.”
* * *
—
One evening, Jeff left early. He was exhausted from working all day in the hot sun and he had to get up at five. Eddie kissed him, waved to him as he drove away, and went into the house.
Barrett was waiting for her.
“Want a beer?” she asked Eddie.
“No, thanks.” Eddie walked across the room. “I think I’ll chill with some television.”
Barrett said, as pleasantly as she could, “Well, I would like to talk.”
“What about?” Eddie sat cross-legged on the sofa.
“How can you be so casual about Jeff?”
Eddie looked confused. “Excuse me?”
“Eddie, be real. You know you’re going to break Jeff’s heart when you return to New York. You’ll break your own heart, too.”
“What about your heart?” Eddie countered. “Does Drew care about you? Have you met his parents?”
“No, but his sister, Janny, helps me in the shop. She would tell me if he was seeing someone else. Besides, he’s in Boston most of the week.”
“I don’t trust him, Barrett. He’s too smooth, too rich, too summer person.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Barrett said. “I’m a big girl now.”
Eddie paused, then smiled. “We need some Gilmore Girls. Bring the ice cream.”
* * *
—
One morning, when Barrett took inventory in her shop, she was astonished at how many items had been bought during late July. Expensive items, too. She’d priced Paul’s boxes at two hundred dollars, and they were gone in a day. So were the bluebirds, priced at three hundred dollars. And five more of Louisa Sheppard’s sweaters had sold, not to mention a few pieces of fine jewelry, gold with pearls in a deep blue shell and a silver mermaid pendant.
She opened her door to let the fresh morning air in. She sat on her high stool behind the counter and skimmed the list of recent sales.
Janny came to work at noon, and stayed until five, three days a week. She was patient and charming with customers, and many of her friends dropped by, purchasing some of the most expensive items. When Barrett and Janny were alone in the shop, unpacking or dusting, Janny would talk about her wonderful brother, and sometimes she’d mention one of Drew’s former girlfriends.
“Ariadne is beautiful,” Janny would say, “but she’s kind of dim, and Drew needs an intelligent partner or he’d get bored. Besides, the children. I mean, he wants someone with a decent IQ, not just because he’s so smart but because he wants his children to be smart, too.”
Once, when it was raining and Janny was driving Barrett mad with her chatter, Barrett said, “I don’t know why he’s dating me. He hasn’t asked me about my IQ once.”
Janny hadn’t realized Barrett was being sarcastic. “Oh, Barrett, I’m sure he can tell you’re really smart.”
Also, Janny flirted with Paul. He stopped by the shop often, bringing iced coffee, asking how their day was going. Even though he clearly wanted to talk with Barrett, Janny crept in, batting her lashes, biting her bottom lip, leaning forward to show the view down her dress. It bothered Barrett because she knew Janny was only playing around. Janny would never love some working-class guy like Paul. She didn’t want Paul to get hurt. It was almost funny, how Barrett didn’t want Janny to be with Paul and Janny wanted Barrett to be with Drew.
But Janny was, if not invaluable, certainly helpful. Without someone else at the counter, Barrett could never take a break to use the bathroom or eat a sandwich or talk on the phone. On rainy days, she and Janny worked in sync, talking to customers, making sales, wrapping and boxing up purchases. Janny could be funny, too, and that lightened the days.
Janny was with Barrett Friday afternoon when Paul entered the store.
Before Barrett could speak, Janny leaned over the counter, her breasts bulging, and said sweetly, “Hi, Paul! Have you brought more of your gorgeous artwork for our shop?”
Our shop? Barrett wanted to tell the younger woman to peel herself off the counter so Paul could set down the box he was carrying.
“Hi, Janny. Hi, Barrett.” Paul smiled at them both. “Right. I’ve brought in a few more things.”
He brought out picture frames of different sizes, the wood carved into rising and falling waves and painted blue. Curvaceous mermaids shaped into bookends. A wooden bird’s nest holding three robin’s-egg blue eggs.
Janny cooed, “These are lovely, Paul.”
A woman entered the store just then, and Barrett could have kissed her.
“Janny, will you help our customer, please? Paul, let’s take this box to the back room. It gets so crowded in here.”
Her worktable was piled with boxes, bags, heaps of tissue paper, and her store laptop. Barrett shoved them aside. While Paul held the box, she carefully brought out each carved piece and set it on the table. The back room was smaller than the shop area, and as she moved, Barrett was aware of Paul’s body so near to hers. Her hand accidentally touched his arm, and goosebumps rose all over her body. She wanted to tell Paul how perfect it was that he worked with wood, because he was so sturdy and strong himself, like a tree. And his carvings showed he could also be gentle and patient.
“How would you like to price these?” she asked him, her voice hoarse.
“I’ll leave that to you. You know better than I about such matters. I’ve got some more in my workshop.”
She studied Paul. He was tanned. His hands were blistered and scraped from construction work.
“Your nose is sunburned,” she told him. “You should wear a cap.”
“It’s too hot for a hat,” Paul told her.
“Your nose is going to peel.” Who was she? Barrett thought. His mother? She didn’t feel maternal toward him. She felt uncomfortably attracted to him. What did that mean about her relationship with Drew?
Reaching out, she took one of Paul’s hands in her own, opening it, running her fingers over the calluses. How would these hard, rough hands feel against her body?
“Hey, listen,” he said. “I know it’s short notice but someone gave me tickets to the museum gala tomorrow night. It will be a big deal. The tickets sold for three hundred fifty dollars each. Want to go with me?”
“I’d love to,” Barrett told him. “What time is it?”
“Great! It’s six to nine but we can go anytime. It’s casual. Well, as casual as these galas can be.”
“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Barrett said, thinking. “Let me see if Janny can work late.”
She was surprised to see Janny standing at the door, watching.
“You know we agreed that Saturday nights I never work,” Janny said, before Barrett could even ask.
Barrett sweetened her voice. “But could you, just this once?”
“No. I’d rather go to the gala with Paul.” Janny grinned and put her finger between her lips, looking like a mischievous child.
Barrett felt like she’d been slapped in the face. Her voice shook slightly when she asked, “Well, could you work tomorrow night?”
Janny countered, “But what about Drew? Doesn’t he get here tomorrow? Don’t you have plans with him?” She peeked up through her eyelashes at Paul. “I would love to go with you.”
Barrett felt Paul’s entire body shift away from her.
“Oh, right, Barrett’s got Drew,” Paul said. “Sure, Janny, I’ll take you.”
Barrett wanted to tell the girl she was fired right now.
But Janny was right. What about Drew?
* * *
—
Saturday, Nantucket Blues was busy, and Barrett was glad. Janny came in at noon and worked until five. Barrett was uncomfortable around Janny, wondering why Paul so easily agreed to take her to the gala. Drew hadn’t called her. Usually he called in the morning, to tell her what time he’d arrive. She’d meet his plane and they’d go off for a late dinner or a long quiet evening on the beach.
In the afternoon, when the store was in a lull and Janny was at the counter, Barrett slipped outside to take a walk up and down the wharf. The day was delightful, sunny and not too humid, and the mega-yachts on the outer, private docks were amazing, like boats out of a Liam Neeson movie. Children were running, laughing, buying balloons, kites, and candy, their parents strolling behind, licking ice cream cones.
Life was beautiful! She should stop whining. She should be brave! She sat on a bench beneath a tree and impulsively called Drew.
“Hey, babe,” he answered. “What’s up?”
“Hey, you. I’m just wondering what we’re doing tonight.”
“Oh, damn. I meant to call you…I’ve got to go to some stupid fundraiser gala with my parents tonight. They bought tickets. Plus, it’s a good opportunity for me to network.”
Barrett blinked, confused. Drew was going to the gala and he hadn’t invited her to go with him?
Drew continued, “You wouldn’t like it, Barry. It’s all old farts and old cheese with damp crackers.” He laughed at his own joke.
She had to say something. Forcing good humor into her voice, she said, “Janny will be there.”
“I know. She told me. She’s going with that carpenter.”
That carpenter.
Paul was so much more than that. Barrett felt as if she were on an iceberg, breaking away from the continent.
When she didn’t speak, Drew said, “But I’ll try to be there early tomorrow. We can spend the afternoon together tomor— Oh, right. Do you have to be at your shop? Can’t you forget it for one afternoon?”
Barrett was so shocked, she couldn’t speak.
Drew continued talking. “Never mind, let’s get together Sunday evening. I’ll call.”
“That sounds nice, Drew.” Her mouth was dry. Her hands trembled. She felt like a foreigner in her own life. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
She ended the call and began walking again. Drew didn’t want to take her to a party where his parents were. She hated it that Eddie had been right, that Drew wasn’t interested in something real. She hated it more that Janny had weaseled her way into an evening with Paul.
* * *
—
Eddie had many sexy and sophisticated dresses in her closet, but Jeff was taking her to have dinner with his parents tonight, and Eddie wanted to look pretty for Jeff and sweet for his parents, although they had to know by now that their son was a grown man who didn’t date women only for their sweetness. She settled on a simple blue cotton dress with low-heeled sandals.
She had butterflies in her stomach when Jeff picked her up at the house. Why was she so nervous, or was she excited? She knew why! Because “meeting the parents” was a big deal. It was a test she wanted to pass and she didn’t know all the rules.
She was certain she’d met Jessie and Howie Jefferson sometime during that first year she’d lived on the island. Howie was treasurer for the town, a demanding and admirable job. Jessie loved to cook and channeled that love into running bake sales for the local churches and charities. Jessie was, in her own way, famous.
