The Summer We Started Over, page 9
“You, too.” If she’d had longer eyelashes, she would have fluttered them.
“I thought we’d go to Town,” Drew said. “They’ve got a good menu. Have you been there?”
He opened her car door and held it as Barrett slid inside. “Yes, I love it. They have great cocktails.”
Drew got in and started the car, looking over his shoulder as he backed out.
Barrett asked, “Do you spend every summer here?”
“I wish.” Drew flashed her a smile. “I used to, when I was a kid. Now I’m too busy working to live here all summer.”
“You’re from Boston?” Barrett prompted, wanting to know more.
“Right. I’m the CFO for the firm’s Boston branch. We’ve always summered on Nantucket and spent holidays here. I go back and forth.”
Drew was quiet as he navigated the narrow one-way streets. He parked on Broad Street, a short walk to the restaurant. They chose to eat inside because the May evenings could be chilly, and soon they were tucked into a quiet table in the corner.
After they’d ordered drinks, Barrett asked, “Did your sister like her sweater?”
“She did. Very much. For once she approves of my decision.”
“For once?” Barrett laughed. “I get it. I have a sister, too.”
Conversation paused while the waiter set down their drinks and took their order.
Barrett unfolded her napkin, wondering if she should ask him, and then thought she might as well find out about his soft spots now. “Is your sister hard to please?”
“No. Janny’s actually adorable. We all spoil her.” Drew smiled. “She talked her way into getting the bedroom facing the ocean. I face the street.”
It seemed only natural for Barrett to ask, “Where do you live on the island?”
Drew paused before answering, as if wanting to be careful with his reply. “Our summer house is on the cliff. The large old shingled house with roses all over one side.”
“Oh.” Eddie was right, Barrett thought. He’s from that wealthy family. “I know which house you mean,” Barrett said. “I love that house.”
Drew turned the conversation back to her. “You said you have a sister. How do you two get along?”
Barrett sipped her drink while she considered how to answer. “Just fine. We’re different, even though we’re only a couple of years apart in age. She’s ambitious and sophisticated and…she likes to go at a faster pace than I do. But I love her, and I admire her.”
“Any other sibs?”
Barrett paused. This was not a good time to mention Stearns. “No. Our parents are divorced. My father was a professor at Williams College, but he left to write a book.”
Drew looked impressed. “Nice. He must be brilliant. And your mother?”
Barrett shook her head. “She left us about four years ago. It’s fine. Motherhood was never a pleasure for her. We think she’s in Amsterdam now.”
“Wow,” Drew said. “That’s huge. Do you miss her?”
“Truthfully? Deep in my heart, I wish she’d been a more loving mother. But I get it.” She paused, wondering again if she should mention Stearns. No, she decided. It was too sad, and she wanted to be happy right now. “She loved my father, but she has a wanderer’s heart. She was a good enough mother when we were young. Now we’re grown. She’s set free. I’m happy for her.”
The waiter appeared and set their first courses in front of them.
“My mother is the opposite of what your mother sounds like.” Drew paused to dip a piece of crusty bread into the sauce around his mussels. “She’s super-traditional, glued to routine, and she’s done the iron-hand-in-the-velvet-glove bit all my life. I love her, of course. I respect her. But sometimes I wish she’d go away.”
“I get that,” Barrett replied, with a sad smile.
Drew said, “Tell me about living on the island.”
Barrett told him about moving here from Williamstown, how she’d worked two jobs and saved enough money to start her store.
“Of course, living with my father means I don’t have to pay rent, but in a way, taking care of him is like a third job. I buy groceries and cook and keep the house clean. Also, when we bought the house, it came with a horse, that was part of the deal, because the horse is…not difficult, but sensitive. She won’t let us ride her. It’s like we’re engaged in a very lengthy courtship. I put hay and corn out for her all winter and keep her water trough full and brush her once a week. She’s sort of like another dog. Our real dog is named Duke.”
“What jobs did you work here?” Drew asked.
“Ha!” Barrett said.
She leaned toward him, entertaining him with tales about cleaning houses and waitressing. Drew had tended bar when he was in business school, and suddenly they were exchanging stories about crazy or obnoxious patrons, and they were laughing together, and Barrett felt like she had known Drew all her life.
They lingered over dessert and coffee, still talking about their recent histories. Barrett slowly being accepted by Nantucket people. The things Drew had done on the island when he was a child. Which beaches they preferred, their favorite spots on the moors. The parties friends gave in the summer that lasted all night long.
Afterward, they strolled around town, checking out the store windows, all decorated for summer. As they crossed the cobblestones on Main Street, they bumped shoulders, and Drew took Barrett’s hand, and they walked together, holding hands.
They sat on one of the benches in the library’s garden as the night fell around them. The air was cool and fresh. The trees in the garden were in full blossom, providing a delicate screen from the sidewalk. From across the street, laughter and music floated.
“Are you seeing anyone?” Drew asked.
“No. Since we moved here, I’ve been too busy to date seriously. I’ve made some good friends, but no, I’m not seeing anyone.” She studied him. “Are you?”
“I’ve got a busy social life in the city, but—” He interrupted himself. “Gak. Busy social life. I sound like I’m presenting my résumé. Let me start over. I’m working eighty hours a week, and I have a few women friends, but no one special. I haven’t wanted to make time for anyone special.”
“But you came to Nantucket,” Barrett reminded him.
“Yes, for my sister’s birthday.” He paused. “I have a feeling I’ll be coming to Nantucket more often.”
“That would be nice,” Barrett told him.
A group of giggling tweens rushed into the garden, chattering past Barrett and Drew, breaking their mood.
Drew stood. “Enough talk about families. Let’s go look at the boats in the harbor.” He held out his hand.
Barrett took it, rose, and together they strolled toward the harbor. It wasn’t the high season yet, but several small yachts and deep-sea fishing boats bobbed in their moorings. When they walked to the end of the dock, they were surrounded by stars reflected in the dark water.
Barrett knew Drew was going to kiss her, and he did. Gently, he touched his lips to hers. He cupped her face in his hand and pulled her body close to his as their kiss deepened. He was an excellent kisser, in a sort of paint-by-numbers way. How many women had he kissed in his life? And why should it matter to her? The thought crossed her mind, as swift and bright as a firefly, that Drew considered kissing a competitive event in some kind of romantic triathlon.
Why was she thinking instead of feeling?
Clearly, she was out of kissing practice.
It was almost midnight when Drew took her home. He stopped at the end of the drive, out of range from the porch light.
“I have to go back to Boston tomorrow,” he said. “I’m here only for my sister’s birthday. But I’m due some time off. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
“I hope so,” Barrett told him.
He leaned toward her and they kissed lightly.
From the house, Duke began to bark.
“See you soon.” Barrett slipped into the house, glad that it was quiet and everyone else had gone to bed. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts.
* * *
—
At midnight, Eddie was in her room, scrolling through her phone, texting New York friends. She’d spent an hour on the phone with Dinah, praising her for her bravery, assuring Dinah she was safe. At last, she heard a car in the drive. Barrett, coming home from her date. She rolled off her bed and went to her window to look out. Drew kissed Barrett before she left the car and hurried into the house. The convertible pulled away.
Now Barrett would run up the stairs to Eddie’s room, throw herself on the bed, and gush all about her evening.
Eddie waited.
She heard Barrett on the stairs. Barrett passed Eddie’s door, went down the hall, entered her own room, and shut the door very quietly, as if she didn’t want anyone to know she was home.
As if she didn’t want to talk to anyone. As if this date, this evening, was private.
Eddie understood. She’d been away for two years. Barrett would be out of the habit of reviewing each date with Eddie. Still, this must have been a very good date. Barrett had been gone for five hours.
Good grief, Eddie thought, what had happened to her that she was sitting in her bedroom like an eighteenth-century spinster aunt, longing to live off someone else’s romance?
It was better, she decided, to wonder about Barrett than to imagine what would happen when Jeff returned tomorrow to start building the bins for her father’s books.
She brushed her teeth and crawled between her sheets and knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep, and fell asleep at once.
* * *
—
Eddie woke early in the morning, before the others were up. Pulling on a loose shirt and ripped jean shorts, she slid her feet into sandals and crept down the stairs. During the year she’d lived here, two years ago, before she went to work for Dinah, when the island was new to them and the house was unfamiliar and their lives sparkled with sea air and hope, she had often made coffee and brought it out to the back porch to sit and watch the morning arrive. The air was always fresh, carrying the scents of ocean salt and flowers.
It was comforting to be back, making coffee and sitting on the porch again. Duke was already here, lying on the warm boards in a patch of sun, snoring. Birds called. Duchess stood at the fence nuzzling the grass. Eddie called out a greeting. Duchess snorted.
Behind her, the door opened. Barrett stepped out to the porch.
“Good morning!” Barrett almost sang the words.
“Good morning,” Eddie answered. “You seem awfully cheery. How was your date?”
Barrett wore an ancient sundress that once had belonged to Eddie. She sank onto the wicker swing, cradling her coffee in her hands.
“My date was fine,” Barrett said. “Drew’s nice. And handsome.”
“Wow. You really like him.”
“He’s a distinct possibility,” Barrett said, using her really bad British accent.
Eddie asked, “Have you seen Dad?”
Barrett stretched. “Yeah. He’s already in his study, deep into his book.”
“Let’s leave him there. I don’t want him freaking out when we start working in the barn.”
Just as Eddie spoke, a truck came rumbling down the drive all the way to the barn. A load of boards lay in the bed of the truck. Jeff stepped out from the driver’s side. Another man jumped down from the passenger side. He looked vaguely familiar to Barrett but she couldn’t remember his name. He had black hair and sky blue eyes rimmed with thick black lashes.
“Why are carpenters always so hot?” Eddie whispered to Barrett as they went down the back steps to greet the men.
Before Barrett could reply, Jeff said, “Hello, ladies. I’ve convinced Paul to help me. I know you want to get this bookstore started ASAP.”
“Thanks, Jeff.” Eddie tried to be casual even though she almost couldn’t look at him. He made her feel bewitched. “Hi, Paul. I’m Eddie and this is my sister, Barrett.”
Paul nodded. His eyes rested on Barrett. “Hey. Barrett, I think I’ve seen you at some beach parties now and then in the summer.”
“Me, too,” Barrett said, blushing. “I mean, I think I’ve seen you there.”
Duke barked and wagged his tail.
Barrett reached down to pat the dog. “This is Duke. He’s our watchdog, as you can see.”
“Hey, Duke.” Jeff stroked Duke’s fur. “Sorry, but we’re on the clock here. We’ve got more jobs than we can handle.”
The guys walked off. The women stood watching as they unloaded the lumber from the truck.
“Look,” Eddie whispered. She nodded her head toward the fenced field.
The horse was standing nearby, watching everything.
Barrett cooed. “Aw, that’s sweet, to see her be curious. Maybe she likes those men.”
“Maybe I like those men,” Eddie said, only half-joking.
Jeff came toward them, a laptop in his hand. “I’ve made a preliminary sketch of what the book bins should look like.” He stood between the sisters, holding the open laptop so they could see his drawing. “They’ll be thirty-nine inches tall, sort of general waist level. Books are generally about seven inches wide and eleven inches high, so if you want eight bins, we’ll make thin plywood dividers, and build the overall cabinet forty-five inches wide. Does that sound okay to you?”
“I guess.” Eddie looked over at Barrett. “We have only a general idea of what we want, but that sounds okay.”
“It’s not going to take us long to build four or five of these,” Jeff told them. “If you want them stained, Paul said he could do it in the evenings. How are you doing with sorting books?”
“We’ve got several bags full…and we’ve only started. We can sort more today, right, Barrett?”
Barrett nodded. “I’ve got to get to my shop, but I’ll work here for an hour or two.”
As Jeff turned toward the barn, he said over his shoulder, “I brought some cardboard boxes for you to carry the books in. I’ll drop them on the porch. We’ll help you carry them out when you’re ready.”
“Great!” Eddie headed toward the house.
Barrett was turning to follow her sister when Paul asked, “What kind of shop are you opening?”
His question was serious. She studied his face. He wasn’t flirting. He was asking for information. She realized that Paul was an island guy, and she wanted his approval. “It’s a kind of gift shop. I’ve called it Nantucket Blues. It’s in the little mall next to Aunt Leah’s Fudge.”
Paul grinned. “So you sell bluefish?”
“Right.” Barrett smiled back. “No. No fish. Sweaters made by Louisa Sheppard. Framed photos of the island by Barbara Robinson. Some island jewelry by local artisans.”
Paul crossed his arms over his rather magnificent chest. “Do you have a quarterboard?”
Barrett shrugged. “I couldn’t afford that. I made a wooden sign, painted it dark blue, and stenciled the store’s name in pale blue. The Historic District Commission has approved it.”
“I could make a quarterboard for you,” Paul offered.
Barrett shook her head. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly pay for that.”
“How about I do it for nothing?”
Barrett’s goosebumps got goosebumps. The way he was looking at her…he was hitting on her. Hitting on me with a quarterboard, she told herself, laughing. She’d remember to tell Eddie that when they were in the house. “That’s…”
“Think of it this way, it would be good advertising for me.”
Oh, Barrett thought. Of course. He was networking.
“Don’t you have lots of work scheduled?”
“I do. But I can fit this in.” Reaching out, he put his hand on her arm near her elbow. His touch was light and warm. “I’d like to do this for you. I know how important it is to get all the business you can in the summer. We islanders should help each other.”
Barrett stammered, “I…I’m…not an islander, really.”
Paul shrugged. “I’ve noticed you’re here in the winter.”
He had? Barrett knew she was glowing with pleasure. “I’ve only lived here three years. To be honest, I thought islanders resented newcomers.”
“Only the arrogant ones,” Paul told her. “I’ll make a quarterboard for you. If you like it, you can take me out to dinner at Crosswinds.”
Barrett laughed. “It’s a deal.”
“Paul,” Jeff yelled from the barn. “Are you planning to work today?”
“I’m on it!” Paul shouted back. To Barrett, he said, “I’ll have it for you in a couple of days.” He walked off to the truck to heft a stack of boards onto his shoulder.
Eddie approached. “We can’t stand here watching their muscles flex. Let’s get busy on the books.”
“Eddie,” Barrett whispered, “I’d like to get busy with Paul.”
Eddie laughed and linked her arm around Barrett’s neck. “Let him get the work done first.”
They returned to the dining room and seated themselves on the floor in front of the piece of furniture they still referred to as “Grandmother’s china cupboard.”
“Look at these!” Eddie cried. “All these children’s books. Cat in the Hat. The Runaway Bunny.”
Barrett picked up Where the Wild Things Are and ran her hand lovingly over the cover. “Mom used to read these to us every night and when we were sick.”
Eddie said, “Well, we don’t need them anymore. Hand me that cardboard box.”
Barrett flinched. “We can’t get rid of these books! We’ll read them to our children.”
“I’m not having children, remember?” Eddie put some books into the box.
“You’ll change your mind,” Barrett argued.
“No, I won’t.” Eddie bit her lip. “I refuse to be the kind of mother our mom was.”
