Page 65 of The Summer Swap

“A picnic sounds fun. Can you spare the time? Leave this place?”

“I employ good staff.” He nodded to his assistant and to a girl who was currently discussing a painting with a customer. “I’ll be back later, Francine.”

She was young. Cecilia judged her to be a little younger than Hannah and Lily.

“Francine is elegant. Incredible bone structure. Have you painted her?”

“No. These days I focus more on other people’s work than my own. She’s the daughter of an artist friend of mine. Her mother is French. They live in Paris part of the time, but they’re over here for the summer and Francine is helping me out. She is the assistant of my assistant, which makes me feel important. Let me pack a bag and then we’ll go. Does a picnic rug work for you or would you rather a chair?”

She laughed. “Forty years of yoga, Seth, some excellent health genes and a splash of good fortune. A rug is just fine.”

They picked up fresh lobster rolls and artisan coffee and took them to the beach, finding a spot away from the crowds. Cecilia didn’t mind the crowds. She’d always been a people watcher. Her mind wandered. “I painted this scene once. A couple on a rug reading, a child building a sandcastle, someone flying a kite.”

“I remember it. A red ball in the foreground.”

She turned to him, astonished. “You remember that?”

“I remember all of it. They were happy times.”

They were happy times.

She felt the sun on her face and the sand under her feet and felt lighter than she had in years. As you traveled through life you picked up scars and damage and baggage, and the weight of it could be crushing. But here, she was transported back to those early days when life had been uncomplicated.

“I love it here.”

“Me, too. I love it even more at five thirty in the morning when I have the place to myself.” He spread the rug on the sand, and she slid off her shoes and settled down. For a moment she felt like her twenty-year-old self.

“That’s the best time of day. The light. Salty air. The sound of the ocean.”

They shared a look, a memory, and then he handed her a napkin.

“Here.”

“Never saw you as the napkin type. Did Sonya finally domesticate you? Seth, who never intended to settle down? Seth, who didn’t even want to plan what he was doing that evening, let alone for the next twenty years?” The gentle teasing came naturally, which surprised her because after so many years their relationship shouldn’t feel this comfortable, surely?

“To an extent, she did.” His smile was an acknowledgment of his past self. “People change, don’t they? But I’ve been on my own for ten years. It’s funny how doing your own laundry can motivate a guy. Also, you’re wearing a pale blue dress and although my fashion expertise is limited, I’m guessing it isn’t compatible with the contents of a lobster roll.”

“It’s not precious. Clothes are to be worn.” She didn’t say that she’d forgotten she even owned this dress. That she’d grabbed it when her mind was on Cameron and the Cape and secrets.

“It suits you. You look good, Ceci.”

For a moment she was worried he might think she’d chosen her outfit especially for him, and then she realized that she had chosen it for him. And what was wrong with him knowing that?

“You and Sonya lived here the whole time?”

“We had a house in Brewster. A year after she died, I sold it and used the money to convert the space above the gallery into an apartment. Didn’t see the point in rattling around in a house that was too big for me.”

She empathized with the lost feeling that was so much a part of grief. “It’s hard, I know.”

“Yes. And moving was hard, but it turned out to be the right thing to do. In the house I always felt as if something was missing, which of course it was. She was. Moving to a new place has helped me feel—” he paused “—more ‘me’ I suppose. Less ‘us.’ It’s not about replacing what went before, it’s about adding to it. Creating something new. If that makes sense.”

“It makes perfect sense.” It was what she needed to do. Discover who she was without Cameron. “And you’ve done that.”

He nodded. “Not that I’m suggesting it was easy. My girls have been wonderful. The grandchildren have helped. Try the roll,” he said, handing it to her. “I can guarantee you won’t have tasted anything better. You’re still living in that enormous place outside Boston?”

“Yes. Ridiculous, I know.” She spread the napkin across her lap.

“I don’t think so. It’s early days. Doesn’t pay to make big decisions too quickly, or so everyone told me.”

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