Page 30 of Bright Lights and Summer Nights

EMMA

“I really wish your grandfather was here for this,” Gram notes from my side, looking at the people gathered around the small, intimate table with a longing look in her eyes. She looks to Peyton, her eyes slightly misting over as she smiles.

Peyton blows her a kiss, placing a hand over her heart. “I really wish he was here, too. He would’ve been the life of the party.”

Dinner has been nice—and not at all as intimidating as I thought it’d be. When Gram said it was intimate, I didn’t imagine it only being immediate family. We’re sitting under the stars, twinkling lights strung around us at a circular table that’s low to the ground. Pillows of different shades of white and blue circle the table, making the dinner seem far more casual than the party earlier.

Gram stays quiet for a moment, her mind clearly elsewhere.

Preston is the one to break the silence from my other side. He reaches across my front, his forearm brushing against my breasts, as he takes his grandmother’s hand. “You should tell Emma about the night you and Grandpa met.”

Peyton excitedly claps her hands, pushing off where she rests against Jackson’s chest for a moment. “Yes, please do, Gram. You know it’s one of my favorites.” Peyton’s eyes meet mine, a soft smile on her lips. “Something tells me you’re a romantic, Emma. You’ll just love this story.”

“Just a little bit of one,” I answer, holding up my thumb and index finger and creating the smallest amount of space between them. I’d like to think of myself as a romantic, but I think a large part of that is because I’ve never really had a steady boyfriend. I’ve never had someone do big gestures for me—or even little ones—and I’ll continue to wait, and hope, for the person who does.

“You have to tell it, Gram,” Peyton prods.

“It really is a special story,” Preston’s mom chimes in.

Gram pulls her shawl closer to her shoulders. Her eyes roam over her family members seated around the table. “Are you sure all of you want to hear it again?”

Everyone nods as I lean in close to her and nudge her with my shoulder. “I’d love to hear it if you’re willing to share.”

Gram sighs, looking to the sky for a moment before looking back at me.

“I was eighteen and was visiting the Hamptons with my family for the summer. I’d never had a boyfriend—and I didn’t want one either, despite my parents’ wishes to marry me off.”

Everyone is quiet as she looks off into the distance, as if she’s picturing that day in her head. “There was a bonfire on the beach one night. Everyone who was in for the summer attended. It was a big deal, and my sister had to drag me to it.”

“You didn’t want to go?” I ask. I only met her yesterday, but Gram seems to love a party. I’m a little surprised she wouldn’t want to go to one.

Gram swats at the air. “Of course, I didn’t want to go, darling. I wanted to stay home and read a book.”

“But you went, and tell her what happened next,” Peyton demands, leaning forward even more.

Gram raises an eyebrow at her granddaughter. “Am I telling this story, or are you?”

My teeth rake against my bottom lip as I try to hide my smile. I like her sass.

“Sorry, Gram,” Peyton apologizes, leaning back and letting Jackson wrap his arms around her once again. “I just love love, and I absolutely adore this story.”

“Then let me tell it, child,” Gram remarks, winking at Peyton to soften her words.

I sigh, loving the banter between this family. I never knew what it was like to have big family dinners or events. We didn’t have family Christmas, weddings, funerals, or any of it. Holidays were spent with just Aunt V and me. On some occasions, she had to work, so I’d spend Christmas watching Hallmark movies or trying—and failing—to make Christmas cookies.

“I went to the party so my sister would stop pestering me about it. I was sitting right next to the pier, completely minding my own business…still reading my book, of course.”

I laugh. “You’re an icon for going to the party and still bringing the book.”

“It was a mystery novel, and I had to know if my theories were correct. You can imagine how annoyed I was when Joseph walked right up to me and asked if I wanted to dance.”

“What did you say?” I ask, fully invested in the story.

“This is the best part,” Preston responds, leaning close to speak right into my ear. I don’t know why he feels the need to do it. His comment can be heard by everyone; it’s not like it’s a secret.

“I ignored him, of course,” Gram responds with a careless shrug. “My book was more important, and I didn’t even think he was talking to me. But then he had the audacity to snatch it from my lap when I didn’t answer him.”

I gasp. “No, he didn’t.”

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